#spin bike for home use

[mysicklove]

trying out spin today!!!!!!!!! i am 95% going to get my ass kicked 💖

[lalunanymph]

SNAP AND BREAK

SYNOPSIS you piss caleb off by going on a risky mission so he makes you pay. dearly.

WARNINGS caleb x fem!reader, fights, arguments, tension, misunderstandings, secret relationship, pseudo-cest, punishment, unprotected sex, improper use of evol, gagging, cockwarming, restraints, bondage, bdsm scene, size difference, verbal humiliation, pussy job, dirty talk, multiple positions, orgasm edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, nipple play, marking, biting, forgiveness, aftercare

DAWN SAYS another one for the cfgc <3 caleb punish me challenge mode: extremely hard. also, big thanks to bb vienna for tossing back some ideas and helping me shape up this bad boy ❤️

x / a03

It’s not often Caleb comes home for the holidays, and when he does, you want to make sure everything’s perfect for him. 

Sweat dots your brow, dripping down your neck as you spring around the house like a frantic OTTO-PHO, cleaning every inch of your old home and picking up after any mess left behind. With Gran in elderly care and your childhood friend stuck in Skyhaven, the onus is on you to keep the space spick-and-span—a duty you sorely neglected due to your erratic mission schedule. 

Damn it, you scowl, glancing at the clock. It’s already 9PM… Caleb could be home anytime soon…

Huffing, you bring out a box of Christmas lights, completely entangled together in a wiry mess, and you groan at the thought of spending hours trying to get one end loose from the other. Sure, Christmas Eve is a time for families to gather together and enjoy the festivities with merriment, food and one too many glasses of bourbon, but as much as you would love to spend time with Caleb on his rare days back in Linkon, there’s a lingering thought in the back of your mind, connected right to the Hunter’s watch on your wrist.

As you check through the notifs, you miss the front door clicking open, the soft scuffle of boots on the wooden floor only reaching your distracted ears when the person was a few feet from you. Despite your wicked fast reflexes, Caleb is quicker, caging you in his arms, pulling you tightly to his chest as his boyish laughter grazes your ears. 

“Really, pipsqueak? Being distracted could cost you some Hunter brownie points.”

“Caleb!�� you squeal, whirling around and smacking his chest, your eyes sparkling at the sight of him. “When did you get here?! I didn’t even hear your bike.”

He releases his grip on your waist, spinning you to face him, taking you in with his warm gaze. You didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes, stress-induced from nights in a world so far above the ground, with secrets you sense he could never tell you. 

“Guess someone was more distracted than I gave her credit for,” he teases, ignoring your probing gaze.

You tighten your grip on his arm, and pull him closer, scrutinizing him from head to toe. “And you look like you haven’t slept in days.” 

“Jeez,” he worms out of your grasp, though his cheery disposition remains unflappable. “Are you trying to steal my thunder? I’m the one that’s supposed to be the nagger, not the other way around. And you look like you’re short of a few days of sleep, too, Pips.” 

It never surprises you how at ease he makes you feel. Banter and laughter flow freely between Caleb and you, and where words fall short, the silence remains warm and companionable. The scent of food is in the air, and you take a moment to inhale the fragrance of warm bread leaving the pan greedily. Caleb makes your favorite baozi, the sweet dough mingling with the succulent fattiness of the pork belly sandwiched between the two buns melting on your tongue, sending sparks of serotonin straight to the pleasure center of your brain. 

He watches you eat with a twinkle in his eye. “Good?” 

"Heavenly,” you practically moan, and take another bite. You miss his eyes darkening, the quick aversion of his gaze from your blissed-out face.

“Mhm. Glad you love it,” he raps the table with his knuckles and stands, focused on the tasks ahead. “We’ll pick up Gran from the care center tomorrow and return home. Can I trust you with the turkey, Pips?” 

You nod, dusting your fingers free from crumbs and standing, too. “Got it. Turkey. What about the cupcakes?” 

“Oh, I can get them delivered. Don’t worry,” he reassures with a grin. “Wouldn’t want Gran to worry about us stuck in Christmas traffic.” 

He’s got a point. When Christmas Eve arrives, the streets of Linkon bustle with throngs of bodies hurrying down the sidewalks, a sense of urgency and excitement in the air. You’re carrying the turkey back to your bike when a familiar vibration on your wrist pulls your attention from strapping the bird tightly into your rear basket, and your heart falls when you see the fluctuation pattern. 

Wanderers. 

Your mind rushes with the implications of what comes next, and in your ear, the ever-present comm beeps, Nero’s voice on the other end briefing Team Alpha. 

“... interrupt Christmas break… urgent deployment to Chansia City—team of explorers—Caves—” 

It comes in bits and pieces. You’re struggling to listen while kicking your bike into gear, revving back home to pack for the overnight mission. 

“Nero, slow down—which part is overrun?” Jenna demands, her voice crisp from the other end of the line. 

“—Chapel Bay. We need reinforcements—”

Kicking up dirt in your wake, you zip back home, arriving in time for Caleb to poke his head past the door, his greeting dying on his lips when he sees the tension radiating off you in waves.

“Pipsqueak, what’s wrong—?”

There’s no time to consider softening the blow when an entire neighborhood is at risk of being wiped out by Wanderers.

“I just got a call to go to Chansia. There’s been a huge Wanderer attack.” You pry the turkey from your bike’s rear basket and hand it to him, sprinting back into the house to pack when a tight grip on your wrist stops you.

“Slow down, Pipsqueak,” Caleb urges, his eyes wide with trepidation. “Did you just say Chansia?” 

You nod, and something in his expression darkens.

“You can’t go.” 

“Wh—?” 

Before you can protest, Caleb slams the front door closed, barricading it with his broader build. “Pips, that area is certified Wanderer territory after the Profield Fall six months ago. Going there would be signing your death sentence .” 

His words ring in your mind, leaving behind a tremor of fear. But, your stubbornness and need to help takes precedence over whatever hesitation you might feel, and you shake your head.

“Caleb, it’s my job—”

“ Y/N, please.” 

No Pipsqueak, Pips, or short stack …

Your eyes widen as the realization hits you square in the chest. Caleb is completely serious about this. You take a step back when he corners you against the wall, those amethyst eyes shining with a desperate plea for you to listen to him—just this once.

“Trust me when I say this—the DAA knows what’s going on there and we’ve escalated it to Zone Three status. You could die there, Y/N—”

“Caleb, I can’t just leave my team behind!” 

He swallows hard, crossing his arms and in a tone brokering no argument, he utters: “Give me Captain Jenna’s number right now.” 

You gape at him, wondering if he’s lost his mind. “ Are you trying to get me fired? ” 

“Family code for the Hunter’s Association means family members can refuse to allow a Hunter to serve—”

“Now you’re just making things up!” 

Your cheeks burn hotly with indignation, eyes narrowing at the sight of his wilful glare. Deep down, Caleb is just worried for you, his overprotective big brother tendencies leaving him resolutely firm on not allowing you to go. But, you’re not a kid anymore, and this is the duty you swore to uphold. Family or not, Caleb has no right to stop you from leaving.

“No,” you reiterate, standing your ground. “Caleb, this is unacceptable. You can’t just dictate when I can do my job just like that!” 

“Oh, I can and I will.” 

You feel a firm tug around your waist, and to your horror, his Evol snatches your phone from deep inside your pants pocket. “Hey—!”

He holds it above your head, no longer goofing around like he usually does when he teases you like this; expression serious and unyielding. “Tell me your phone password now.” 

You seethe, wondering if he’s lost his mind. “Absolutely not!” Palm to his chest, he grunts, feeling the first stirrings of your Resonance piercing through the atoms binding his telekinesis together, goading him to explode. He grabs your wrist with the other hand, a mutinous and unfamiliar glare twisting his mouth into a sneer.

“Oh, don’t even think about using your Evol on me, little missy.” With a staggering strength you thought he would never use on you, Caleb drags you closer, pressing your thumb on the phone’s biometric sensor. It lights up and your phone unlocks, leaving him privy to your contacts.

In one swift motion, you kick him right in the bend of his knee, knocking him off balance. Caleb yelps and the turkey you so carefully transported back home goes crashing to the ground along with his knees hitting the carpet. Moving fluidly, you grab his shoulder, restraining his arm behind his back, forcing him to relinquish his grip on your phone where it clatters onto the floor. 

“Pips—”

You push your knee right in between his shoulder blades, forcing him to the ground. 

Caleb grunts in pain, but you’re too angry to even care about his discomfort.

“How dare you come in the way of my job?” You spit out, increasing the force of your knee into his back. “You have no right, Caleb. None.” 

“I was just—”

“What’s going on?!” 

You both glance up to find Gran staring at you in horror, frozen in her wheelchair. It’s been years since she saw a fight this bad between you and Caleb—the last one being when you two were angsty teenagers. At the look of dismay on her face, you hesitate and ease up, letting him go. Caleb rises with a derisive scoff, and without a second glance, tosses your phone back to you, remaining indifferent when you fumble to catch it. 

“Fine. But, don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you’re going through with this, then I have nothing else to say to you.”

He walks away, his head bent, broad shoulders tense with frustration. You watch him disappear back into the kitchen and glance down at the mess of the turkey scattered on the floor—reminding you of the chaos you’ve brought to what was supposed to be a day of family and celebration. How you single-handedly ruined Christmas Eve. 

“Gran, I’m—”

She raises a hand to stop your string of excuses and apologies. “Whatever you need to do, go and do it. Just come back in one piece, dear.” 

You glance at the deep set lines of her face, the kindness in her eyes you didn’t deserve. “Could you tell him…?” You trail off, and flicker your gaze to the kitchen. Gran nods, imperceptibly understanding your request. 

“I’ll speak to him, don’t you worry.” 

Taking one last look at her, you nod and hitch the strap of your purse higher, thoughts already racing on the logistics of returning to the Association base and retrieving your hunting gear. As you straddle your bike, you steal a final glance at the kitchen window, wondering if he could see you pulling away. But, the curtains are drawn, and the lights dim.

Feeling the melancholy of separating on such awful terms with him, you kick up the bike stand and zip down the highway to your unknown fate, ready to fight Wanderers despite how much every fiber in your body was screaming at you to turn around and make things right with Caleb. 

Caleb stares at the phone in his hand. It’s been three days since he last heard from you; since he last saw you. 

He’s gone through the entire cycle of grief the whole time you’ve been missing from his side: denial that you had the nerve to hurt him after all he’s done for you, anger at the way you dismissed his concerns and complaints about him mother henning you when all he wants is to ensure your safety; bargaining with the voices in his mind to forgive and forget; a crippling depression at the lack of consideration you had for him by not even bothering to reach out and finally acceptance that come what may, you had to return home.

He wouldn’t rest till he sees you again—till he makes sure you’re safe and whole.

But, when the fourth day trickles by with still no sign or contact from you, anxiety gnaws him right to the bone and he can’t focus on anything else but the chirp of his phone, heart pounding wildly and breath hitching as he picks it up, hoping to see the golden notification which will indicate you’re still alive. 

He’s disappointed time and time again. 

Yet, he doesn’t switch off his phone or mute it. Caleb reasons if you ever did call him, he would always be on standby to berate you. 

(And ask you when you’ll be coming home again so he can prepare to see you). 

His heart echoes a dull thud that grows murkier and darker with each growing day of your absence. Till he can’t take it anymore and punches in the emergency number you left on the fridge, hearing the dial tone that echoes forlornly in the background of this empty kitchen soaking in the last rays of sunset.

The call doesn’t go through, and he tries the other number you left for him. 

“Hello?” 

Mercifully, a woman answers and his white-knuckled grip on the phone tightens. 

“Hi,” he stutters and feels like a fool. “My name is Caleb. I’m… Y/N’s friend,” clearing his throat, he presses on. “I haven’t heard from her in days and I’m starting to, uh, get worried. Is she—?”

He barely gets the question out when the woman interrupts him, not unkindly. 

“Caleb, isn’t it? You’re her adopted brother. My name is Jenna and I’m the captain of Team Alpha. Unfortunately, I cannot disclose any further information about our Deepspace Hunters except that they are currently on a very important mission.”

Jenna’s tone is steepled in regret, and Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. I know, damn it.” If she finds his cursing crass, she doesn’t comment on it. “But, it’s been four days already. I just need to know—”

“Mr. Caleb, we understand your frustration, but please, do let us handle the mission on our end, and if there are any updates—”

“You’d only tell me if she returns in a body bag.” 

The transparency of his resigned statement floats uneasily like a greasy film over a thick coating of lies he’s very well accustomed to in the military and law enforcement world. The reality is this: he would never know if you were alive until you came back home.

Caleb thumps his forehead against the frosty kitchen glass, watching the white snowflakes dance in front of him with listless, pained violet eyes. The necklace you gifted him hangs from his neck like a noose, threatening to choke the last of his composure. He struggles to hold onto his temper, as he swallows and nods.

“Alright. Roger that. Thank you, Captain.” 

He doesn’t give Jenna a chance to reply, ending the call and, in a fit of rage, slams his phone onto the table. His sudden fit of anger doesn't go unobserved, Gran’s weary eyes watching him pace restlessly through the kitchen, not noticing her sitting in the dark corner. She wants to comfort him but doesn’t know how. After all, it was you who usually took the mantle of calming down this unnerving, determined young man during his rare, but terrifying bouts of rage. 

Gran sighs quietly and stares up at the ceiling as if she could see past the layers of plaster and unease and into the graying, snowy sky.

Caleb slams the front door on his way out to god knows where. Like always, she remains reticent and disengaged, sitting in the furthest corner where his disconcerting emotions could never reach her. 

You weren’t expecting anyone to wait for you back in your apartment when you finally returned home. 

Light snow coats the front of your lobby stairs, and the second he sees you, the doorman waves to catch your attention. 

“Oh, Miss Hunter! You have a care package waiting for you in the mail room.” 

Curious and weary from your arduous mission, you trudge to the mailroom to retrieve the package under your name. Clasping it in one arm, you drag your tired and bruised body straight to your apartment and push open the door, switching on the lights and air conditioning. The space smells of stale air and an underlying current of tension, greeting you with a lingering melancholy you couldn’t quite shake off. 

You carefully close the door behind you and set the package on your dining table. Glancing out at the twinkling lights of the street below, the feeling of missing out on an important holiday creeps back in, and you fight back the urge to sob.

Now’s not the time…your inner voice chimes. You need to eat something… shower and rest. Wiping your damp eyes, you take a deep breath. The time to break down and mourn over your guilt can come later. 

Tearing the package open, your heart skips a beat when you see a bento box filled with dehydrated vegetables, powdered cranberry sauce, dried turkey, and a side of instant mac ‘n’ cheese. A note, written in a blocky scrawl you recognize as Caleb’s, makes the lump of guilt in your throat thicken even more. 

Merry Christmas, Pipsqueak. We missed you. — C

You boil some water, microwave the food, and rehydrate the greens again, taking your sad pre-packed Christmas meal on the balcony. The food is good, and you have an inkling of Caleb freeze-drying it for you—begrudgingly making sure you could still enjoy your holiday even after the catastrophic fight you both had. 

As you chew listlessly on a slice of turkey, you glance up at the sky where you imagine the outline of Skyhaven to be, snowflakes clinging onto the ends of your lashes, falling like powdered sugar onto your bare hands. 

Caleb… your mind echoes forlornly. Did he return to the base? Is he still here in Linkon? 

One quick look at your Moments feed, and you see he’s still here, catching up with old classmates and grinning brightly in his photos like the two of you hadn’t been at each other’s throats just a few days ago.

The temptation to call him up is at odds with your bruised ego from the smothering behavior he exhibited days earlier. A part of you wants an excuse to see him again despite the growing distance since the argument—to thank him for the meal he prepared for you. 

Snowflakes melt in your hair, an unceasing chill creeping up on you. Despite the unusual distance creeping insidiously into your relationship, the chill, the reproachful silence—the meal he sent you was more than a peace offering. It was his version of an apology. 

Your mind floats a million miles away, thinking about Caleb, wondering if he is still mad at you. You heave a sigh. As much as you dread it, there’s only one way to find out. 

Pulling out your phone, you click on his number. The dial tone drones on and on, plucking on your nerves, and you reflexively nibble on your nails, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hello! ” You expel a rushed breath, an apology on the tip of your tongue when you’re hit with the realization that you’ve reached his voicemail box instead. “—probably busy. Please leave a message after the beep—”

Silence. You catch a staggering breath. “Caleb? It’s me. If you get this, let’s meet up, ‘kay? Talk to you soon.” 

There’s a hum in the night air, a tension drawing lines around your taut figure. You wait and wait for his return call, glancing at your phone every minute, checking on your messages in case he left one when your back was turned. The warm shower you took could barely flush out the thought of Caleb, your anxiety peaking when you decide to check on Moments, seeing him post a picture of his dinner with his friends, but leaving your message on read.

Crap. You’re in deep trouble now. Sighing, you run your fingers through your hair, rubbing your face.

There isn’t a hint of doubt that he’s punishing you now with the silent treatment. Caleb is never the type to avoid confrontations—he thrives on them. He loves arguing, challenging your worldview, and trying to prove his point, just to rub it in your face that he will always be right. 

The indifference is odd; this distance is not like him.

Before you can stop yourself from calling him again, you slip on your coat, tug on your scarf, and rush to your bike. 

I’m going to make him talk to me if it’s the last thing I do, you think viciously, revving up the bike aggressively—kicking up snow and dirt in your wake to break this frostiness between you two.  

In fifteen minutes, you find yourself in front of your childhood home, the kitchen lights glowing warmly. Gran is probably already back at the elderly care center, and since Caleb is still treating you as public enemy #1, he’s staying here to keep his distance from you. You kill the engine and march straight up to the door, unlocking it with your spare key.

Inside the house is warm and toasty, the faint smell of food drifting from the kitchen. You freeze when the sound of heavy footsteps reaches your ears, looking straight into his wide, amethyst eyes.

Caleb exhales a sharp breath, his mouth dropping open slightly. “Pipsqueak…” 

You remain nailed to the spot, wondering if he would kick you out—ask you to leave for daring to show your face here again. But, he does no such thing, beckoning you to close the door and come in. Though he doesn’t outright reject you, he doesn’t welcome you with open arms, either, the usual exuberance and grins he reserves for you nowhere to be found on his unsettlingly serious expression. 

Caleb goes back into the kitchen, picking up a towel to wipe down his hands. The paper plane bracelet you got for him years ago peeks past the sleeve of his gray hoodie, a reminder of happier times between you two. 

You hesitate for a single second by the doorway, wondering when the thought of home left you this cold and disorientated. 

Like a lost puppy, you trail after him, removing your jacket and setting it on the back of a dining chair.

“Thank you… for the meal,” your hoarse voice breaks the icy silence. 

Caleb glances at you from behind the kitchen island and nods. “You’re welcome.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, and the easy familiarity from years of knowing each other fades into a glacial stillness. You hear your breath leaving your lips, and sense the way he’s avoiding your eyes.

“Caleb—”

He scoffs at the sound of his name leaving your lips, and turns around, putting all his focus on the bread he’s baking. You know him well enough to understand he only bakes when he’s completely stressed out over something.

Without thinking, you touch his wrist, not anticipating the sharp way he draws his hand back from you.

“Caleb…” 

He doesn’t glance at you—barely gives your pain a second glance. “What’re you doing here, Pipsqueak?” He murmurs gruffly. “Aren’t you supposed to be writing a debrief report right now?” 

As much as his distance stings, his dismissal hurts even worse, feeling like a knife carving through your chest. 

“It’s Christmas season,” you whisper. “The offices are closed—”

“And yet, risky missions still prevail, huh?” 

His words bite straight to your core, and you wince. “Caleb, it’s not—”

“Save it,” your childhood friend cuts you off, jerking his chin towards the dining table. “Sit down there and don’t disturb me. I’m making sourdough focaccia and if something goes wrong, I will 100% blame you.”

Despite the warning in his tone, you can’t help but smile faintly.

“Okay…”

Taking a seat at the table, you watch him work. The sleeves of his hoodie stretch tautly over his bulging biceps, rolling up to expose his forearms as he works the dough into a malleable ball. The silence is something new, a phenomenon born from the supernova of your hasty mistakes, leaving gaping black holes of awkwardness surrounding the two of you. Any light coming through from your attempts to make conversation is shut down with a dismissive hum or grunt from Caleb. 

You can tell he’s avoiding any attempts to talk, focusing on making the bread and ignoring your presence in the corner of his eye. The childish part of you that grew up with his undivided attention screams, tearing and twisting in your chest, needing to reclaim his interest and care again. You pout, sulk, and heave numerous heavy sighs. But, he doesn’t turn to look at you, much too busy focusing on brushing basil oil onto the bubbling surface of the dough. 

So, you amp up the distractions. You circle closer and closer to him, pressing your face near his shoulder to watch him decorate the dough with slivers of cherry tomatoes. You linger when he turns to grab the container of sea salt flakes, playfully sticking your finger into the concoction to pop a bubble forming.

“Okay, that’s it—” 

He grabs your wrist and tugs you back into the living room, making you sit on the couch with a scowl on his face. The look of pure wrath in his expression startles you, and you barely have time to murmur an apology when he shakes his head, glare intensifying. 

“Stay out of my hair, Pipsqueak. I mean it. ” 

“But—”

He whirls around, silencing you with a deep and unmistakable glint of rage in his usually gentle purple eyes. You fall into a stuttering disquiet, unable to stop the hurt from flashing across your face.

“Caleb—”

“Don’t give me that look. And stay away from the kitchen.” Stay away from me. He doesn’t say it, but the warning is implicit. 

You’ve never seen him this enraged before. Your breath falls out in a huff, and you give him an incredulous look. Caleb turns around, completely ignoring you, and returns to his focaccia. A voice in your head chimes in, telling you to just own up to your mistakes and apologize to him. But, the stubborn part of your consciousness, the one who insists she’s right despite how poorly she had treated one of her oldest childhood friends, remains stubbornly set on not breaking the ice first.

Easier said than done. 

It’s hard. 

It’s hard for you to sit on the couch, quiet and seething when Caleb is just a few feet away. It’s absolute torture to not be in there with him, yapping off his ear with updates to your mission, or trying to sneak eat a few cherry tomatoes when his back is turned. You miss him, and you miss his shitty jokes and dopey smile. You miss him. 

You find yourself sneaking glances at him, wondering if he’s making an extra batch for you—hoping he isn’t too mad to deny you from having a focaccia slice. You know you’re being selfish and immature again, thinking he will be okay with you after the stunt you pulled on him when the reality of his dejection runs deeper.

Shamelessly, you stand and venture back into the kitchen, unlike a stray kitten who could never take a hint. You stand by his side, hovering around until he pays you a morsel of attention—gifting you back his sunny smiles and easygoing laughter.

But, Caleb remains steadfast in his efforts to ignore you, and you decide it’s time to bring out the big guns. Pressing closer to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek into the soft material of his hoodie.

“Gege… don’t be mad at me…”  

He stiffens, and yet, you persist with your efforts. Playfully nipping the back of his ear, you find his weakness in an instant, hearing his breath catch in the back of his throat.

Caleb pretends you don’t exist, letting you fight for his attention, but you can tell his resolve is crumbling. You hear the hitch in his quiet groan when you lick the sensitive shell of his ear, the heat of your body seeping past the thick fabric of his hoodie.

Gran isn’t here, and you don’t have to hide your desires from her, free to mess around with Caleb as much as you can. 

You stand on your tiptoes, tracing the tip of your tongue down the curve of his neck, scraping your teeth against his sensitive skin.

Caleb hisses, and you fight back the urge to grin in triumph. His hands grip the marble island’s edge with a white-knuckle hold. You feel his resolution to ignore you falling apart, piece by piece, simmering in the knowledge of you offering yourself to him as a way of apologizing for the things you said—how you hurt him both physically and emotionally before your mission. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, gege,” you murmur against the salt of his skin, feeling his body heat under your touch. “Can you ever forgive me? Can you ever forgive your mei mei? ”

He bites back a groan, narrowing his eyes. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Pipsqueak…” he hisses under his breath. 

The way he says it, full of anger and warning, sends a sick, dark thrill up your spine. You resist the urge to lay off him, needing him to fully crack and give in to your whims like he always does—like he always will when it comes to you because you’re nothing if not Caleb’s spoiled rotten mei mei who always gets what she wants.

“Pipsqueak—” his words cut off into a low growl when he feels your arms belting around his waist, your hands sliding further down… fingertips teasingly brushing the bulge tenting under his pants. “Watch it.”

But, his warning lacks bite, and you gnaw on your lower lip, feeling his patience slowly dissipating. Caleb is once again putty in your hands, easy to mold to your desires. You grin against his back, feeling the same revulsive knot twisting in your stomach, the stench of the impending perverseness making your nostrils flare. 

“ Gege… ” you whisper again. 

It’s the final nail to the coffin of his attempts to resist you. Except when he snaps, he does it in a way you never expect. 

Caleb grabs your hand and spins you around, pinning you right to the counter edge. Without a second’s hesitation, he drags your pants down, baring your vulnerable backside. The stinging pain of his hit on your left cheek draws you up short, and you cry out, cursing profusely. 

“My, my,” you can hear the grin in his dark tone. “Such a mouth you have on yourself, mei mei … you need to be reprimanded.” 

Another sharp spank lands on your right cheek this time, and your head jerks up, a yelp slipping past your clenched teeth.

“C-Caleb—”

“Don’t you dare Caleb me,” he sneers and drags you like you’re a ragdoll to the bedroom—his bedroom. Inside, you’re faced with gege’s full wrath, as he stands before you, tall and imposing, those amethyst eyes barely wavering when he takes in your warm cheeks and the glimmer of pain simmering in your gaze.

“Strip,” Caleb commands, lifting a dark brow. “ Now .” 

You want to argue, to tell him to ease up, but the look on his face remains flinty and firm. 

Swallowing your trepidation, you start by pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Caleb’s expression doesn’t shift, not even when his eyes rake over the lace bra you’re wearing. His jaw tightens, and he gestures at your pants, silently telling you to go all in if you want to earn his forgiveness back. 

You reluctantly tuck your thumbs into the waistband of your pants and drag them down, leaving you shivering in your matching lacy panties.

He scoffs, running his eyes up and down your scantily-clad form. “You sure you weren’t thinking indecent thoughts, you shameless minx? Good girls don’t try to seduce their older brothers by looking like this.”

You flush warmly at his degrading words, feeling your bravado slipping. “I-I wasn’t—”

Your words die in the back of your throat when you feel the restrictive force of his Evol grasping your wrists, drawing them above your head. Caleb’s expression and outstretched hand don't falter, and he takes another step closer, bearing down on your helplessness.

“Be quiet,” he snaps. Flicking his fingers, he pushes you against the wall, hearing the gust of breath rushing out your lungs when your back hits the hard plaster. You grunt in surprise, struggling and failing to fight your way out of the bonds he has your wrists in. 

“Scared?” He goads, approaching you, taking your chin, and tilting your face up. The look in his eyes is borderline terrifying—you’ve never seen Caleb ( your sweet, lovely, kind, and sunny Caleb )—look this angry in your life. “This is what you wanted, right?” Grabbing your wrists in one large palm, he tightens his grip on you. “Teasing me… hurting me… you have a knack for breaking your gege’s heart, huh, Pipsqueak?” 

You shake your head, wanting to protest when he silences you with a punishing kiss. Caleb bites down on your lower lip, your words and coherence lost in the slurry mess of his tongue fighting yours, tasting the warmth and wetness of your mouth. 

“Mhm,” you moan into the kiss, tilting your head to the side to get more—taste more of him. He runs the tip of his tongue over the hard ridges of your teeth, squeezing your cheeks in a possessive hold, forcing your mouth to remain open and giving as he continues to take what he wants without a care for your pathetic whines.

“Don’t think I’ll go nice on you, Y/N,” he warns, tipping your head back, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of your ear. “You treated me like dirt before you left. You hurt my feelings—” He growls, biting down hard on your earlobe. “You selfish, bratty little Pipsqueak… I won’t go easy on you, do you hear me? Nod if you understand.”

You can’t do anything but nod, helpless in the face of his anger. The corners of his mouth twitch at the sight of your submission, the dark monster within he tries hard to suppress rearing its jealous head, beckoning him to devour you. With a surprising show of dominance, he tangles his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back with a grunt, exposing more of your throat to his wandering lips.

He licks, nips, and sucks his marks onto the pristine column of your throat, needing to see his marks bloom on your skin. Caleb is relentless in his attempts to remind you who you belong to.

The force of his touch sends sparks of thrill up your spine, and you gasp with every hot press of his open-mouth kisses to your vulnerable jaw and neck.

Caleb’s teeth scrapes your sensitive skin, drawing guttural gasps from your kiss-swollen lips.

“Ca-leb—” you break off into a hiss when his Evol rearranges your limbs, spreading your thighs wider; your arms restrained above your head. The last time he had you in this position was a summer ago before he left for a mission to Vagrant Land. You swore after that night when he was done with you, that you had to double your Plan B dosage less your body betrayed you and you conceived his baby. 

“Please—” 

He doesn’t hear your begging, taking a step closer, his bigger build pressing harder into your body. 

“I said: Shut. Up. ”

In one swift motion, his telekinesis holds your lips shut, your struggles and indignant squeals barely triggering a reaction from him. The look on his face sparks both terror and desire, your body responding to his unexpected dominance; proof of your arousal shining from between your thighs.

“Already wet? How pathetic…” 

He smirks, coating his fingers with the proof of your desire pooling right between your folds. 

“Mhmph—Cwaleb—” your desperate squeak shoots his ego straight up to the moon, and Caleb is on cloud nine. 

Such a desperate, little Pipsqueak. You want this so badly, huh? Mhm hmm. That’s right. That’s fucking right. You like my fingers in you? Good girl. Such a good, little Pipsqueak. You’re doing so well—fuck.

His anger aside, Caleb can’t help but praise you. It’s his default; his DNA. You drive him insane and he wants to punish you for getting under his skin—where you’ll always belong, not if he can help it.

“Something you wanna say, Pips?” he sneers, pumping two long, lithe, and callused fingers inside of you, catching on a spot that makes your toes curl. 

“S-swo…sworry,” you manage to spit past the pressure clamping your mouth shut, tears swimming in your eyes, “Cwaleb… mhm .”

He can’t say he doesn’t enjoy your struggle. The flush on your cheeks, the wetness glimmering on your lips. Caleb wants to see you completely and utterly ruined for him. 

“Beg,” he commands, slipping into his Captain persona with ease. In his eyes, you were nothing but an unruly cadet in need of a stern fixing. “Beg me and I might give you what you want.”

Thumb on your clit, he’s driving you delirious with feathery, teasing circles. Your eyes roll back into your head. 

Cwaleb, you groan against his Evol. Pwease—mhmph!

The pressure of his fingers gets meaner, the look in his violet eyes muffling the last of your protests. Giving up on trying to get him to relent, you submit with feeble sighs, letting him take full control. Caleb grins, feeling you succumbing to his ministrations, your squeaks and sighs growing louder and more distraught. 

He loves having you like this—on the edge, overstimulated, and completely relying on him.

Years of knowing your body and what makes you tick is enough for him to push your buttons—taking your limits past the breaking point.

He’s meticulous and sure with his punishment, doing whatever it takes to hammer in the anger and shame he wants you to feel—the lesson he’s trying to impart to your desperate body and distraught mind.

As he releases the pressure on your mouth so you can moan and gasp freely, Caleb’s quick with a foot of rope, using it to bind your hands in your front, allowing you just enough give to grip a pen in your shaky hand as he makes you sit on his cock and write ‘I will always obey my gege’ over and over again until your eyes swim, and your cunt is pulsing from every slight movement. 

He teases you with shallow thrusts, lips in the crook of your neck, and warm, large palms covering your heaving breasts; playing with your distended nipples till they blossom into a pretty blush shade. 

Driving you further into a pleasure-filled delirium, he rubs your clit with teasing circles, smacking your thighs when they start to snap close.

“I said—keep 'em’ open unless you know what’s good for ya, princess,” he sneers, leaving another stinging mark blooming on the plush flesh. 

“Please…” The plea drops from your swollen lips and he chuckles. 

“Struggling already?” 

Caleb peers over your shoulder at your almost illegible writing and shakes his head. “I thought you were better than this—didn’t you once win the best handwriting award in high school? Tch.” 

To your mortification and horror, he picks up the sheet of paper and tears it in half, ruining your hour-long effort of completing a hundred lines.

“Again,” he orders, and grabs a blank sheet, placing it in front of you. “And make sure your writing is pretty Pipsqueak. I wanna frame this.”

A strangled whimper tumbles from your mouth, and behind you, Caleb smirks at the sheer frustration at the sound.

Good.

Now, you would understand a sliver of the anguish he felt when you went missing for days. Now, you would feel the exasperation and outrage he did—and god, does it feelgood to watch you come undone for him. 

You pick up the pen, and with a teary, little huff, start to write again. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, breath warm and distracting against your neck. 

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, chest rumbling with deep satisfaction. “Look at’cha. Doing so well… I oughta reward you after this, hmm?” 

He teasingly trails his palm up your thigh, squeezing your flesh—enjoying how your pretty, tight pussy squeezes down on him with every rasp of his palm on your skin. The sight between your thighs is lewd, a creamy mess coating the base of his cock, dribbles of arousal gathering at the lips of your entrance which ripples around his thick girth. Caleb is equal parts mesmerized and thrilled by the sight, watching how your little clit shivers when he teases her with the rough pad of his index finger; how your body shudders, and the pen in your hand shakes.

“Much better,” he compliments your penmanship, giving your clit and nipple a squeeze. 

“Ah— mhm! ” You choke through your tears. This minute reaction costs you a firm smack on your thigh, his fingernails digging into the singing flesh. 

“Did I say you could take your eyes off the paper?” Caleb demands, and in a low tone, barks out, “ Write .”

Tears mist your vision, your hips twitching and muscles tightening around the fleshy intrusion lodged deeply in your tender pussy. Caleb wraps his hands around your waist and gingerly lifts you up and down, fucking you on his cock as the words on the paper get blurrer and blurrer.

I will always obey gege.

I will always obey gege. 

I will always—

The words get subconsciously stuck in your head, your lips shaping and breathing them out in shaky puffs. Black strokes of your obedience begin to fill up half of the page, and soon the whole sheet is covered with the affirmation. Caleb presses his lips to your jaw, giving you a much softer kiss, catching you off guard with his gentleness.

“There you go… lookin’ good, darlin’.” 

He takes the paper from you and scrutinizes each word, well aware of your body trembling; your sweet, tight cunt squeezing pitifully around his cock. You’ve made such a mess on his lap, Caleb is surprised how the powerful orgasm you’ve been holding back for the past two hours hasn’t taken you under yet. It seems like one single touch and you might blow.

He chuckles, chest vibrating against your back, and sets your work down, gripping your hip tighter.

“Good girl,” he croons in your ear. Those maliciously thick and long fingers slide up the length of your thigh, reaching to wrap around your neck.

“I did what you asked,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and moaning at the sensation of his lips kissing down your throat. “A-am I forgiven yet?” 

Hmm, Caleb hums, his smirking mouth pressing on your pulse point. He loves how despite your lofty title as Linkon’s shining Hunter, you’re still so much smaller than him; your entire body dwarfed between his bigger build and the hard edge of the table. “... suppose I could show you some mercy.” 

He traces random patterns on your thigh and a sliver of hope takes root in your heart. Maybe you’ve done enough to fully earn his trust and love back. Maybe he might be merciful and kiss you—

As if you weighed next to nothing, Caleb’s strong arms carry you back to bed, setting you down on his lap again. He buries his nose in your hair and inhales like a starved man tasting honey for the first time, his tongue darting out to trace the jut of your jaw, trailing down your throat.

“You’re so sweet… so sinful…”

His grave murmurs send sparks of desire straight to your core, and you clench your thighs, whimpering.

“Caleb…” 

Your whisper is a fleeting plea of desire that disappears under his smothering kiss. Caleb devours your mouth, swirling his tongue with yours, his fingers holding your chin in place. Hungry, open-mouth kisses smear down your neck, right to your collarbone, where the ghost of his breath on your perky nipples makes you shudder.

He takes his time, playing with you while you’re all tied up and helpless. Caleb grins against your sternum, hearing your breath hitch when he parts your thighs and sinks a finger inside you with barely any prep. Your body takes him without resistance, and he nuzzles your bare breasts, relishing how soft your skin is against his cheek.

“You’re so eager… so ready for me…”

His dick throbs, but he pays it no mind, completely zeroing in on your pleasure. Caleb’s entire focus is on you—your whimpers, your sighs, how your poor, puffy pussy clenches down so nicely on his thick fingers.

You’re just ready to burst, darlin’ ... he murmurs huskily into your ear. Must be frustrating, hmm? Not being given the chance to come… I’m sure you’re aching…

His thumb circles on your greasy, little nub, hearing your soft moans and sighs in his hair. Caleb guides you to the bed, your bound body falling in a heap under him. He positions himself over you, forearms on either side of your head as he goes back to licking and sucking at your neck. 

The sting of his teeth leaving another bite leaves you light-headed with lust, your body throbbing for the slightest bit of relief.

Please… you whimper again, trying your luck. Caleb… I need you…

Yeah? He murmurs huskily. Where’dya need me, princess? 

You squirm, moving your hips and he feels you writhing underneath him. “Inside. All the way.”

His breathing hitches, blood growing hotter at the desperation and need in your tone. 

“All the way? You know what to say to get a man going, sweetness.”

“I— ohhh .”

Your words die in the back of your throat at what he does next. 

Caleb grins as he pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them. He carelessly tugs his pants down, ripping off his clothes to toss them to the floor, gifting you inches and inches of bare, tanned skin and defined muscles to gawk at. Ready, baby? Giving his cock a few good pumps, he lines the tip to your entrance, catching it on the rim of your pussy. 

Teasingly, he works the flush, sticky head up and down your weeping clit, circling your opening, pushing it in past the tight ring of muscle with taunting ‘pops’. Your gasps reach his ears, and he grins, enjoying drawing out your pleasure far too much.

Like that? He licks his lips, eyes half-hooded and heated. It’s all going in you, baby… just… at my… pace.

He punctuates each languid word with a few more inches sinking inside of you, coaxing more sweet sounds from your slack jaw.

Oh, yes… yes… fuck me, Caleb. Fuck—oooh.  

Your drawn-out hiss springs a wicked smile to his face. The way your eyes roll back; how your hips twitch. 

Spasming wildly, your sweet pussy draws him in, and Caleb can’t get enough of you. It’s excruciating how much he’s edging himself as much as he’s torturing you. But, the moment he bottoms out inside of you, all the tension condenses right to the point where you’re connected to him. 

Caleb sets a rhythm that leaves you gasping, legs wrapping instinctively around his fitted waist. His biceps and abs ripple with every thrust, those pesky lips you love too much finding the hollow of your throat, leaving behind his claim on your delicate skin for the world to see. His mouth presses to yours in a heated display of ownership, tongue delving past your lips to dominate yours. 

His taste—musk, salt, man—coats your tastebuds, and you’re swimming in his heat and scent. 

Caleb is everywhere and anywhere over you, all at once. 

His bigger build completely dwarfs you on the bed, expert hands pushing your thighs apart and pressing your knees to your chest, leaving you flushed and completely vulnerable to him.

He laughs when your clit trembles under his scrutiny, the little bud exposed with nowhere to hide. 

Zeroing in on your tender bundle of nerves, he presses his thumb to it, feeling the greasy little button twitch under his fingertip. 

You look so pretty like this… all tied up and vulnerable… just for me. 

“Caleb…” your moans begin to stutter, your hips beginning to spasm. You’re so close, all it takes is one misstep on his end to lead you down the biggest orgasm of your life.

Hours of teasing and drawing out your pleasure renders you an incoherent, babbling mess. 

Faster, faster… oh god, please. Yesyesyes. Caleb—Caleb… 

Anyone passing by the room could tell you were barely holding on by a thread. You look so beautiful under him like this: hair fanning across his pillows, cheeks warm and lips flushed. The glassy look in your eyes.

God, he’s so in love with you. 

Having you here, under him where you belong, heals the fissured part inside of him that still aches from your cruel dismissal of his concerns.

His thrusts grow more punishing, the tip of his long, girthy cock hitting your cervix. Caleb tilts your pelvis, making you take him deeper.

There ya go, sweet thing, he coaxes. Can you feel me here—? He touches your womb. Feel me where ya need me. Oh, darlin’... I’m gonna make sure you feel me for days.

Picking up his pace, the bed creaks and rocks under you. Caleb makes sure to tease your clit as well with every punishing thrust, feeling your thighs tremble around his shoulders. 

He’s so deep, so flushed against your body, he thinks you could suck him up and take him in your body forever.

Caleb is hard-pressed to admit he doesn’t want that—there is nothing in the world he desires more than to be one with your bones and breath. His movements get erratic, needing to bring you to the edge and back.

He can tell you’re close. 

The look on your face, the warmth in your cheeks. You’re holding back and he couldn’t be any more prouder.

“What do you want, princess?” He asks, eyes soft with affection.

You struggle to put your desires into words, completely wrecked at the end of his cock. 

“I… mhm— close… ”

He feels your muscles squeezing down on him, and chuckles breathlessly.

“Yeah? I can tell, princess. You want to cum—you need to cum, huh?” 

You give a teary, little nod that tugs on his heartstrings. But, Caleb isn’t done with you—not by a long shot.

He grins and without warning, switches the position, putting you on top of him. When you falter and almost fall face-first into his chest, the familiar stirrings of energy hold you upright, his Evol keeping you centered and balanced on his cock.

“Ride me,” he whispers huskily. “Show me how much you want this—prove to me how badly you want to cum.” 

The challenge in his tone drives you dizzy with lust. Licking your lips, you murmur a whimper which makes his grin stretch wider, and shift your hips, testing the give of his Evol.

Sturdy and sure, his grip on you doesn’t falter, and you quickly find a rhythm that makes his eyelids flutter shut. A groan slips from Caleb’s lips, his pretty purple eyes prying open to drink at the sight of you riding him feverishly.

Arduous and urgent, you move your hips like a pro. Caleb’s sure he’s never seen you this determined—the look in your eyes searing through him.

The sight of his dog tag and the apple charm you gave him years ago shining silver from his neck catches your eye, a stark contrast to his tanned and flushed skin. 

God… you’re killing me…

Caleb smirks at your breathless words. I do? Glad to know, princess…

His large palm collides against your plush ass, watching the flesh jiggle with each precise spank. Your sharp inhales and whines spur him on as he takes his frustrations out on your pert ass, venting the fear and anger he felt when you left him behind for that torturous week onto your willing body. 

Try to leave me again. His nostrils flare, eyes dark with promise. And I’ll make sure you’ll never have any use for your legs, you hear me, Pips

Possessive and passionate, he tangles his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the vulnerable skin of your neck. His Evol loosens its grip, and you go falling into his arms, his lips practically devouring your neck with heated kisses and nips.

You gasp when he works in another mark over one he just made a few minutes ago, the stinging bite of pain enough to get you fluttering all over his cock. 

“ Mhm… ” you groan. You’re lost to the sensations, drunk off the high he’s giving you.

Caleb is no better. He’s almost cross-eyed from the pleasure, drunkenly leaving marks on your jaw and collarbone. 

Sloppy. Languid. Caleb fucks you like he’s got all the time in the world.

He runs his hands down your back, over your sides, fondling your sore and stinging ass. Moving underneath you like a strong wave, he slowly rolls his hips up against you, pulling you closer onto his lap. 

“You’re so good… taking everything so well… my perfect pipsqueak…”

Caleb’s moans and praises get lost in the crook of your neck. He uses his free hand to grip and squeeze your breast, drawing your turgid nipples into his mouth one by one; his other hand continues to spank and grope your ass.

It’s too much—all too soon.

You’re on the edge and he still hasn’t permitted you to come. The need to be good is at war with your primal instincts to give in to the pleasure, your gasps and moans are a desperate symphony to his heated ears.

His thrusts get more erratic, the wet sounds of your bodies joining together bouncing off the walls. The windows of his bedroom start to fog up, the bed creaking maddeningly with every thrust.

“Caleb,” you gasp, feeling the familiar tension coiling in your lower belly. “Oh… oh… ”

He hears the note of panic in your tone and chuckles gravelly. Dark hair in a disarray, amethyst eyes shining with mischief. Caleb is the picture of ravaged underneath you, and there’s little doubt you’re in a much worse state above him. 

Licking his puffy lips, Caleb shakes his head, abs undulating from the release he’s also trying to hold back. 

“Uh-uh-uh, princess,” he taunts, voice dropping an octave lower. “Not yet…”

You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut in despair. He grins, lips moving back to your neck, murmuring against the salt of your skin.

“I love seeing you like this… hearing you gasp and whimper… feeling you writhe so desperately above me…”

Caleb… you whisper his name like a prayer, one you hope he grants.

“Yeah, princess? Say my name… I love it when you say my name.”

“Caleb… oh… Caleb… ”

He nuzzles your neck in an unexpected gesture of adoration, feeling how tense your body is. 

“You’re so close, hmm?” He murmurs, unlike how a pet owner tries to soothe a fretting kitten. “I know you are, Pips. I can feel ya. So close… oh… and yet so… far .” 

At the last second, before you succumb to your pleasure, Caleb’s Evol lifts you off his cock, the sudden, gaping loss ripping the earth-shattering orgasm right from under your trembling body. 

No! You cry out in a thick voice, and you swear real tears spring in your eyes. No… no… please…!

Begging him shamelessly. That’s what you were reduced to. 

Caleb chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He loosens his grip on you and guides you back onto his cock. You hiss from the intrusion, eyes rolling back in your head. Nothing but a puppet to her Master’s strings; Caleb is firmly in control.

He manipulates your body to his own pace, using his Evol to fuck you on top of his cock like you’re a lifeless doll, made only for his pleasure.

“Oh… oh… y-you ass—”

Caleb laughs, cutting off your tirade by gripping your hips tighter. 

“Don’tcha love it, princess? Don’t lie to me—you adore it when I tease ya. Make you work for my lovin’,” he mutters hotly into your neck. “You can deny it all ya one, Pips, but I know what you want… I know what you want deep, deep down…”

As he drawls out ‘deep’, his Evol loosens, making you slide down his cock until you bottom out. 

“ Ngh! ” You cry out, the tears in your eyes dripping down your cheeks. Caleb clicks his tongue and wipes the proof of your frustration away with his calloused thumb. 

“No need to cry, Pips. I gotcha. Gege’s got ya, don’t he?” 

You struggle to reply, the last of your coherent thoughts scrambled by his cock working you back to the edge again. 

Caleb… Caleb… you cry out, his name a mantra, a chant that grounds you as his cock continues to fuck you up. 

It seems like forever passes by when he brings you to the edge, abandons all motion, and does it again until you’re practically sobbing from the overstimulation. Caleb is a mastermind of your own body—he knows just how to get you trembling from the onslaught of pleasure without ever letting you fall over.

The torturous cycle starts and ends the same: with your begging and whining doing nothing to move him.

“Please…” you finally gasp, hanging your head, strands of your hair tickling his chin. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I’m so sorry…” Fighting back the lump in your throat, your shiny eyes beg him to show you some mercy. “I’m sorry I hurt you… s-sorry I— ah… mhmmm… treated you like shit… I’m so sorry—”

Caleb sweeps you into his arms, his Evol completely releasing its grip on you. “That’s all I wanted to hear… all I needed…”

He registers how you’re choking up and rubs gentle circles on your back. “Hey—ssh. Ssh. Apology accepted, Pipsqueak. Don’t cry, okay… come here…” Gripping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his, he gives you a soft smile. “You did so well… I’m so proud of you, hey? You wanna come, sweetness?” 

Without a shred of stubbornness left, you eagerly nod. He chuckles, and positions you back on his cock, purple eyes glistening with the pure adoration he has for you. 

“Alright—come on, baby… ride me good this time, okay? And don’t hold back—you deserve this… deserve all this for being such a good, little girl—”

It doesn't take long for you to get to the edge, hours of suppressing your release make you needy and very sensitive.

Come… come for me… he encourages you, rubbing your clit, pinching your nipples—doing everything in his power to get you to lose control.

The tension in your belly snowballs to something beyond your control, and you tilt your head back, expelling a long, drawn-out moan. 

In the ropes and under his cruel yet tender ministrations, you find the courage to fall apart—his name rebounding across the room like a screamed cry of relief. Caleb feels you shuddering all around him and gives in to his baser need to fill you up, grunting low and deep into the crook of your neck as ribbons of warmth coat your walls.

Drops of white dribble to stain your inner thighs and his lap, but neither of you cares.

Undoing the rope and relinquishing his Evol’s hold on you, Caleb catches you in his arms, burying his nose into your hair, soothed by your delicate scent.

The afterglow settles like a haze, enveloping your body like a warm, fluffy blanket.

Caleb traces patterns on your bare back, pressing soft kisses to your temple and cheek. He breathes in your light scent, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“You alive, Pips?” 

Nodding, your eyes flutter close, the comfort found in the crook of his body intoxicatingly cozy. Your heartbeat starts to slow, lulled by the gentleness of his breathing. His pulse steadies under your cheek, his arms tightening around you, pressing you closer to his chest.

“You did so good, princess…” he murmurs, stroking your head. “So proud of you—I’m so proud of my little Pipsqueak…”

His praise hits your system like a shot of red wine, warming you up from the inside out. Flushed from his gentle words, you eagerly rub your face against his throat, his boyish chuckles easing the guilt still swimming in your soul. 

“Caleb?” He looks down at you, taken by your small voice.

“Yes, Pips?” 

“Am I… forgiven?” 

He nods without a beat of hesitation. “You sure are. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about anymore, okay? Let’s put this behind us and start fresh, princess. How’s that sound?” 

Relieved, you nod, and the love you feel for him intensifies, radiating brightly from deep within. 

One thing you’ve learned about wounded hearts is this: with Caleb’s smile, everything can be healed.

— feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ❤️ your support means a lot to me

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or feed my works into AI

[mecachrome]

notes from nicole piastri's interview on red flags pod

oscar started playing monopoly and chess when he was 4-5 but he was too good at chess (relative to nicole) that she boycotted it

nicole opened her twitter account because oscar wasn't replying to her at boarding school and she needed a place to chastise him ("can you not answer... i KNOW you're on your phone") (it worked because he started replying to her there)

instead of unflappable she calls him "conservative"

even during christmas and birthdays he was never super excited, one time they went with a group of 5 mums and 5 kids to a hi-5 concert (popular australian kids' musical group) and while all the kids were "going nuts" oscar just sat there "focused the whole time" and didn't smile or move lmfao. they were like 3 years old

didn't know what she was doing with oscar as a baby because he was her first child and her mothers' group was her only reference and they went "isn't the best part of the day when you wake up and go to their crib and they smile at you?" and she was like ??? because oscar would wake up and just SCREAM every single day needing to be out of there immediately and she thought that was just normal... then she had the girls and went "ahhhh... so that's what they're talking about"

when he was younger than 2 he needed them to read car magazines to him and was already obsessed with all things automotive and while they were driving would just name off and point out car brands by their badges

for a long period of time he behaved like he was a car and would "spin" his wheels and pretend to accelerate and run like a car lol

did a big burnout the first time he was on a bike (it had training wheels but he still learned very early)

as a mum she wishes he'd chosen golf or tennis since it's much safer than f1 and sometimes people tell her that she technically had a say in that when he was a kid and she said "but i didn't! it was just in him!!!"

won an academic award when he was 13 and she was president of the parents' community so she presented it to him, normally these events are super formal and you simply shake hands but she gave him a big kiss and instead of acting embarrassed or spluttering he looked at the crowd, nodded silently, and walked off

came back for the summer a few years ago and they were biking on the beach together when she had to brake hard to avoid a kid and went over, when she recovered and got back on he went "are you all right?" very deadpan but after they got home they checked his heart rate monitor and saw that he was totally steady the whole time except for when she crashed and his heart rate went through the roof, told him "ah so you do have a heart... we just don't see it"

"there's no sibling that can piss him off?" "well he's a boy with three girls so he just doesn't go there because he's never going to win"

met lily in person for the first time when he came home for the melbourne grand prix (was still alpine reserve), at midnight oscar was like "hey mum you know the dts film crew are coming tomorrow morning right?" and she was like WHAT... and he was like yeah it'll be chill they just want to film us having breakfast like a normal family or whatever and she was like Mate you haven't lived here for 5 years now do you know what breakfast looks like. it looks like your sisters storming downstairs and grabbing an inappropriate breakfast and storming out the door giving me the finger!!! and then the next morning lily comes down and nicole is like "oh is oscar up?" and lily is like no... i think he's still in bed... (many such cases) and then mae refused to be in it so she got dressed and ran off to school 2 hours early to escape them. and then the mclaren fiasco happened and the whole thing got cut out of dts anyway

when she said "oh my god you met matt damon!" he was just like (shrugs) "yeah... yeah..."

they communicate by facetiming and he's Always lying in bed. one time in bahrain he was leaning back on an ornate tapestry and she asked what hotel he was staying at and he was like oh i'm at the royal palace i'm like a guest of the crown prince. she freaked out and was like "oh my god!!! get your head off the tapestry!!!" and he just looked back like ? no it's fine it looks pretty old lol

called her to tell her that he signed his f1 contract and when he said mclaren she Realized and was like oh no i love daniel!! and he straight up deadpanned "yeah everyone loves daniel. that's going to be a problem..." and said verbatim "of all the f1 drivers ever daniel is the worst one to be replacing"

one time in f4 chris couldn't go to a race and billy monger had just had his crash so she flew to the uk for the weekend to support him and when she was driving him back to boarding school she was happy because she had 2 hours to spend with him and she wasn't sure when she'd see him again but instead he slept the whole way through and the moment they got back to school he went "ahhhh... home sweet home" and she wanted to slap him lmfao

first day of primary school when he was 5 years old he said he didn't need her to walk him to school and she was like "well i actually do mate" so he forced her to walk behind him the whole way and the moment they got there he turned to her and went "all right i'm here you can go now" 😭

the chinese & italian & yugoslavian is on chris's side of the family while nicole's is scottish & irish ("that's where the pasty skin comes from")

red flags pod sent her a shirt with oscar's face composed of His Tweet and she showed it to him and he immediately said he wanted it

he gave her a small warning before he posted the tweet but it was just like "mum so this is going to happen just don't worry about it. it's all under control. it'll be fine" and was very calm the whole time

"we just had to trust that his personality would come through at some point, because the way he came across was not at all what he's like. people will work out who the real you is so just continue to do what you do" 🥺

all of the kids were obsessed with Cars (2006)

likes his mum's golden syrup dumplings and grandmother's rumballs

AT THE SINGAPORE GP IN 2023 HATTIE DISAPPEARED FOR HOURS TO GO SEE A K-POP CONCERT 😭😭😭😭 i think it was p1h lmfao (nicole was asked for her favorite group and went "i have no idea. five boys") ((it's txt)) meanwhile oscar is only into house music and she thinks everything he plays is the same song

did pilates when he went home but never with her and thinks it's a lot harder than it looks

takes him minimum 24 hours to respond to anything she sends

she had an exact conversation with oscar where she asked who he wanted to be teammates with and he said "well if i go up against lando i don't even have to get close the first year because everyone knows how good he is" 😭

oscar you are so you 🧡

[strwbrychffoncke]

"seems so unfair ,i want to cry,, 2.7k words synopsis: after you learn the truth about the explosion at your childhood home ,you seek out a certain crow with something important to say contains: angst -> fluffy ending! lnds sylus x mc!reader (fem-coded reader) ,established relationship ,based after caleb's return ,written before caleb is added to the game (so mind any inaccuracies when he is..) & mc talks w him ,brief mention of zayne ,mc has a breakdown ,v soft!sylus ,sylus comforts you ,he bathes you (all fluffy) ,carries you ,slight evol use but its to lift u up for 2s ,references to the main story (namely the explosion + when u meet sylus) ,slight reference to sylus lore but no spoils ,apologies ,lots of kisses ,cuddles ,i think thats it?? note: (proofread, not edited!) this is braindump based off of a tweet i saw today let me live :x

-

this was bad.

this was terrible.

no, this was beyond that.

this was awful.

your mind was spinning ever since caleb's return- the man from your childhood who you'd been sure you'd watched die before your eyes- his interrogation, and learning everything that you could in the long time you'd spent together in that room.

your mind was swimming with information overload: of the EVER group, the fact that caleb was alive, the emergence of colonel caleb no less...

but most of all, you think back to the explosion.

and the man you initially thought who had caused it.

your heart was heavy in your chest, overwhelmed with guilt that felt like it was physically weighing you down, prompting you to lay a hand over your beating heart and take in slow, deep breaths.

in spite of everything- of the information you'd learned from caleb swirling, questioning everything you knew and giving you a headache- your mind was clear enough to do one thing:

you had to see him.

you couldn't stop thinking about him, speeding on your motorcycle through the N109 zone back to the familiar base, thinking back to when you'd first met: your immediate resentment towards him, your sudden distrust, your desire to get any and all answers from him at any cost-

and namely, how you had accused him of the explosion from that day.

you vaguely remember at the researcher's shop the look of hurt that flashed in his eyes when the man had suggested you were afraid or disgusted by him on a subconscious level.

back then, you didn't know what to believe, and even long after he'd said it, the words of his lingered in your head.

"you really are a naive linkon citizen."

you think back to his warning of being wary of the ones closest to you after today's meeting, and even back when zayne had given you the enclosed research papers of your grandma's after she had passed.

there really was too much that you didn't know and too much information to properly process in your mind right now, but you pushed that aside for the moment thinking back to the leader of onychinus.

the boss that you had, somehow, grown much closer to and much more fond of than you could've ever thought possible.

your engine revs as you speed up, sun dipping just below the horizon as your determination leads you to the place you've subconsciously recognized as a second home, a singular thought circulating your head.

i have to see him.

-

when you finally arrive, you practically leap off of your bike, barely putting it in park and snatching the keys from the ignition before racing through the doors with the memorized numbers of the familiar keypads, heart racing in anticipation, head whirling from the ride-

but you couldn't stop now, not before seeing him.

as you race through the empty halls, peeking into every open door in case he may be lingering in one while you head straight towards his room, you run into something firm.

"ah!"

while the collision makes you stumble, the firm object- or rather, person- doesn't even flinch, hands automatically steadying your body as he looks down at you, a mix of mirth and slight surprise in his expression.

"oh? is a little kitten in a rush today?"

you gaze up at the man who'd occupied your every thought, panting breaths escaping you before you get lost in his eyes, mind emptying itself at the sight of him: of the man you've grown close to, the one you've sworn yourself to protect and watched him do the same for you.

you're overcome with a sense of warmth and longing, though the one you yearn for is right before you.

he's staring right back into your eyes, noticing their distraught appearance, taking in your slightly disheveled hair, the way you're catching your breath, and most worrying:

the way he sees your eyes begin to water.

"hey..."

his voice is that deep, gentle tremble he reserves just for you, dropping the teasing completely, noticing that something is really very wrong here.

"what happened? tell me."

he's begun softly massaging your shoulders, but only does so for a mere few seconds before you're clutching onto the fabric of his shirt tight.

your hands are scrunching the fabric so hard its causing wrinkles, but he couldn't care less when the tears break free and your face falls into his chest, your body shaking.

even if you wanted to tell him everything, you can't handle it right now, the information not even close to being processed by your own jumbled brain, and you're so overwhelmed that you can't help but to break down in front of the one you've come to trust the most.

the tears won't stop flowing, quickly staining his shirt as he holds you, and when he hears the first sob break from your lips, he swears his heart completely shatters at the sound.

sylus begins rubbing your back, reserving the questions for now, seeing that you're in no state to talk

even if his own mind was racing and heart pounding at the thought of someone or something hurting or threatening you- his initial response, seeing as it's rare to see you break down to such a degree in front of him.

after a couple of minutes of sobs wracking your quivering body, sylus feels you being speaking, a repeated mantra escaping in broken gasps from you, and his concern increases tenfold.

"i'm sorry... i'm sorry.... im so sorry... sylus, i'm-!"

you're mumbling apologies into his shirt between your loud hiccups and pathetic sobs, over and over and over again, unable to get any other words out than the ones you mean the most from the deepest depths of your stricken heart.

and even though he's overcome with worry, hands trembling ever so slightly wanting so badly to take your tears away, he doesn't ask now, he doesn't need to.

instead, he holds you, rubbing your back, softly shushing you and trying to soothe your cries.

"it's okay... let it out. i'm here."

at his reassurances, your apologies slowly die out, drowned out by your continuous sobs.

-

once you finally manage to calm down, sylus fetches you a glass of water, urging you to drink before he wordlessly carries you to his bathroom, starting up a bath for you. he takes heed to add a few drops of essential oil to help soothe you further (anything to make you fele more at ease in this state) as he adjusts the temperature of the water to be just right before slowly shedding you of your clothes.

he speaks here and there the entire time, small questions between every action as he rids you of each layer of clothing to make sure its okay with you, mixed with his reassurances that he's here with you before gently laying you inside of the tub and settling behind you to begin washing your hair.

his hands do wonders for your head, headache gradually subsiding as you close your eyes against his ministrations, sniffling nose taking in the calming aroma of the oils as you lean back against him to relax further.

when he's rinsed the soapy residue from your head, he massages a hair mask into your scalp before rinsing his hands and moving to massage your neck, your shoulders, and down your body, gradually cleaning and scrubbing away as he goes.

you feel yourself dozing off just as he's finishing, his fond chuckle filling your ears as he holds your heavy head steady with one hand, moving to drain the tub with the other.

"not yet, we still have to dry you off," he murmurs into your ear, warm breath pulling a slight shiver from you. he lifts your damp body once again, wrapping you in a fluffy towel and sitting you down on the counter.

you allow yourself to be towel dried by him, melting at the sound of his gentle yet off-key humming as he works, gently brushing away the spare droplets before he reaches for your lotion, squeezing some into his hands, warming it between his palms and again massaging it into your tired body.

you take a deep breath, all too aware of the love and care this man- known to be feared and intimidating to many- has for you as he wordlessly pampers you, knowing nothing but that you needed to relax a little, refraining from asking you about anything before he was sure you were ready to tell him yourself.

"arms up."

you blink back to the present, not realizing he'd finished moisturizing your body. you obey without question as he slips your nightgown over you, pulling up your damp strands of hair that get caught under it and grabbing another towel to dry it for you, closing your eyes again as he does so.

always so gentle when it came to your hair.

once he's satisfied, he helps you slip on a fresh pair of panties (you almost don't realize he's used his evol to lift you up for just a moment to slip them over your seated thighs before you're softly placed down once again, opening your eyes to see his soft expression looking back at you).

as he gives you a once over, you can't help but to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. his hands come up to hold your wrists, but make no move to remove them.

"what's wrong?" he finally asks, worried eyes looking into your now slightly-calmed yet equally tired ones.

you blink once, pulling him towards you as you lean forward, soft lips meeting his warm ones in a longing kiss.

he returns the gesture with equal fervor, eyes closing as he revels in the flavor that is you, lips moving slowly and rhythmically against yours, allowing you full control of how this goes. after a few long moments, you pull back to look at him.

the faintest grin appears on the corner of his lips, still wrought with worry but just slightly reassured at your gesture.

"bedroom?" he murmurs.

you nod, and he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and chin hooked on his shoulder as he shuts off the light, carrying you out towards the bed and gently resting your body on the soft mattress.

he moves to stand straight but your arms are still locked around his neck, eyes staring up into his. he lets out a soft scoff, gripping your arms once more in his hands, but again making no move to remove them from their place, staring back at you with a grin.

"how can i get the lights like this?"

at the sound of your soft laugh ringing through his ears, he feels his heart beat again.

"just leave them," you whisper, and the little smile has him obeying in a heartbeat.

you were truly is one biggest weakness.

"well, it's hard to lay down when you've trapped me like this, sweetie."

"no, its not," you rebuke, teasing glint in your eyes as you continue smiling up at him.

a happy smirk plasters itself on his face.

"wanna bet?"

before you can answer, a surprised sound escapes you as you're lifted with his evol, unlatching your hands and allowing him to take his spot sitting up at the headboard as your laugh rings out through the room.

"sylus!"

he chuckles, pulling you towards him and draping you in his lap, arms quickly winding around your waist, pleased hum escaping you as you lean your head against his chest.

the two of you stay like that, cuddled up together when the weight of the day slowly comes back to you, your mind once again beginning to reel, thinking back to what you needed to say to him when his soft timber breaks the cozy and comfortable silence.

"are you feeling alright now?"

you look up at his face, shaky breath escaping you.

"i... learned a lot of information today."

he hums in acknowledgement, hand coming up to caress your slightly-damp hair.

"about.. a lot. my family, EVER, and the explosion..."

your voice trails off as you lift your head from his chest, sitting up to face him completely before your soft hands reach up to cup his face.

"and it made me think- about back then, when we first met. i was so angry and desperate for answers, and-"

you take a deep breath again, feeling your voice begin to waver and eyes filling with regretful tears, but he holds your gaze and doesn't interrupt, taking in your every word.

"and- i'm sorry, sylus."

his eyes slightly widen at your apology, but he let's you continue.

"at the time, i blamed you, accused you, when in the end, you truly had nothing to do with it..."

"sweetie..."

his soft, glazed crimson eyes gaze back into yours as the picture begins to paint itself.

sure, you were right, it wasn't him, but he couldn't blame you for your assumption back then, not really...

even if it did kill him to consider you thought so negatively of him then.

still, he listens.

"you were right: i was just a naive linkon citizen, and your warning before- about 'the closest ones to you,' i just-"

his hand moves to caress your back once again, the other brushing stray hair over your shoulders.

"i'm so sorry," you sniffle, tear-filled eyes gazing into his own warm yet sad ones.

"even if you did kidnap me, and mess with me," you smile at the soft chuckle that rumbles through his chest. "you were always on my side, even when i wasn't on yours. you've looked out for me, taken care of me, spent time with me, loved me-"

the tears flow freely now, thumbs caressing his cheeks.

"i could never despise you, be afraid of you, or ever be disgusted by you, not in a million years."

his breath hitches slightly at that.

even though you both were well past that time, even though you both had grown impossibly closer- inseparable, even- since you'd met, his heart thrashed wildly at your bold declaration of reassurance.

"i'm sorry that i hurt you back then without knowing anything," you whispered.

momentarily at a loss, mind slowly processing your words, he doesn't get a chance to respond as you gently pull his face towards yours, planting another soft, loving kiss on his lips.

you pull back from him, smiling at the way he momentarily chases your lips as your hold on his face never breaks. your legs shift under you to sit on your knees, leaning into him before you plant a kiss on the corners of his lips, his chin, his nose, and slowly covering every crevice of his visage with your love.

his hands are holding your wrists firmly now, eyes fluttering shut and feeling your presence, feeling your kisses, feeling your love, your tear-stricken face no longer causing a full sense of anxiety but rather causing his thoughts to fear his heart might be seizing to function.

but if he were to die right here, right now, just like this, he supposes he couldn't complain.

truly, he had no fear of that moment anymore, but having this reassurance from you and seeing you so distraught by something that seemed to have occurred so long ago- he allows you to reassure him, and revels within it, each kiss a welcome warmth as he pulls you closer towards his body.

you pull back slightly to look into his love-filled gaze once again.

"i love you, sylus," you whisper into the night.

"and i love you," he responds, taking charge to kiss you first this time, heart feeling as full as it had when he'd first met you all that time ago.

and you stay in each other's embrace, soft whispers seeping into the night, something having shifted beneath this moonlit night, reveling in each other's comfort.

everything you had learned, everything that had happened, everything else that may or may not: you pushed it aside for now. you could always let him know later on, and you fully planned to.

but for now, you were satisfied to hold each other just like this, longtime bonds feeling mended, your normal chatter and whispered confessions filling the hours late into the night under the guise of the moon.

-

a/n: based off one single tweet that i saw today.. (couldn't find the og but it was basically saying they need to hear mc apologize to sylus for accusing him of causing the explosion once we learn more ab the actual cause) didn't realize i'd make a whole short fic of it at nearly four in the morning when i have to be up in four hrs yet here we are :x

[thrivefittribe]

Best Spin Bikes under $500: Affordable Options for Home Workouts

Introduction

When it comes to men’s or women’s fitness, spin bikes have become a popular choice for cardio workouts and lower body toning. However, with the average cost of a spin bike being well over $500, many are hesitant to invest in this equipment. Luckily, there are affordable spin bike options available for under $500 that provide an effective and efficient workout experience. In this article, we’ll explore the top spin bikes under $500, along with the important features to consider when selecting a spin bike for home use. We’ll also discuss the benefits of home workouts with spin bikes and provide tips for staying engaged and motivated during your workout sessions. Whether you’re a beginner or an experienced spinner, this article will help you find the best spin bike under $500 to fit your needs and budget.

Criteria for Choosing Spin Bikes under $500

When looking for a spin bike under $500, it’s important to consider certain criteria to ensure you get a quality piece of equipment that meets your needs. Here are some of the most important factors to consider when selecting a spin bike in this price range:

Resistance Levels: Look for a spin bike that offers multiple resistance levels, as this will allow you to increase the intensity of your workouts over time.

Flywheel Weight: The flywheel is part of the bike that creates resistance and momentum as you pedal. A heavier flywheel provides a smoother and more realistic riding experience.

Adjustability: The spin bike should be adjustable to accommodate your height and body type. Look for a bike with adjustable handlebars and seat, as well as the ability to move the seat forward and backward.

Durability: The spin bike should be made with sturdy materials and be able to withstand regular use. Look for a bike with a steel frame and a weight capacity of at least 250 pounds.

Console Features: While not essential, a console with basic features such as time, distance, and speed can help track your progress.

Top Spin Bikes under $500

Now that we’ve covered the essential criteria for choosing a spin bike under $500, let’s take a look at the top options available on the market:

Sunny Health & Fitness SF-B1002 Belt Drive Indoor Cycling Bike – This spin bike is a popular choice for its durable construction, adjustable resistance levels, and smooth belt-drive system. It has a 49-pound flywheel and can accommodate riders up to 265 pounds. The bike also features adjustable handlebars and a seat for a customized fit.

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JOROTO X1S Indoor Cycling Bike – This spin bike is a great option for those looking for a budget-friendly bike that still delivers a quality workout experience. It has a 35-pound flywheel, adjustable resistance levels, and a comfortable seat. The bike can accommodate riders up to 300 pounds and has a sturdy steel frame.

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YOSUDA Indoor Cycling Bike Stationary – This spin bike is a popular choice for its quiet operation and smooth ride. It has a 40-pound flywheel and adjustable resistance levels, as well as a padded seat and adjustable handlebars. The bike can support riders up to 350 pounds and has a steel frame for durability.

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Cyclace Exercise Bike Stationary – This spin bike is a newer option on the market, but has quickly gained popularity for its solid construction and affordable price point. It has a 36-pound flywheel and adjustable resistance levels, as well as a comfortable seat and adjustable handlebars. The bike can support riders up to 330 pounds and has a steel frame.

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pooboo Indoor Cycling Bike – This spin bike is a budget-friendly option with a sturdy steel frame and adjustable resistance levels. It has a 35-pound flywheel and can support riders up to 350 pounds. The bike also features adjustable handlebars and a seat for a customized fit.

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Benefits of Home Workouts with Spin Bikes

There are numerous benefits to incorporating spin bikes into your home workout routine. Here are some of the key advantages:

Convenience: With a spin bike at home, you can exercise whenever you want without leaving the house.

Cost-Effective: As we’ve discussed, there are affordable spin bike options available for under $500. This is a one-time investment that will provide a long-term fitness solution, as opposed to costly gym memberships.

Cardiovascular Health: Spinning is a high-intensity cardiovascular workout that can help improve your heart health and overall fitness level.

Low Impact: Spinning is a low-impact exercise, meaning it puts less stress on your joints than high-impact activities like running.

Customizable: With adjustable resistance levels and seat and handlebar positions, spin bikes can be customized to fit your individual fitness level and body type.

Motivation: Having a spin bike at home can help you stay motivated to exercise regularly.

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Conclusion

Overall, spin bikes are an excellent investment for individuals looking to improve their fitness at home. With affordable options available for under $500, you can enjoy the benefits of a high-intensity cardiovascular workout without having to leave the house. Spin bikes are customizable to fit your individual fitness level and body type, and offer a low-impact alternative to high-impact exercises like running. By incorporating a spin bike into your home workout routine, you can improve your cardiovascular health, burn calories, and stay motivated to exercise regularly. So, if you’re looking for a cost-effective and convenient way to improve your fitness level, consider investing in a spin bike for under $500 today!

[kikidoul]

── HELPING HAND.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established relationship non-idol au college/university au jungwon rides a motorbike here ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content unprotected sex (stay safe!) petnames used fingering pussy eating cum eating brief dirty talk (like 1-2 sentences?) public sex jungwon being a tease whoops. . .!? 1769 — mlist.

note. this was inspired by the airport pictures of jungwon when he was going to the prada pop-up store in taipei. his outfit reminds me of a boyfriend who rides a bike, so yeah! taglist. @tfwbluu

You let out a long and heavy sigh, rubbing your shoulders as you paused to stretch your arms, raising them above your head. Groaning at the muscle cramps, you leaned back in your seat and stared at the ceiling, getting lost in your thoughts. Your examinations are around the corner and you have been spending the past few weeks staring at your notes, occasionally neglecting your own health. Needless to say, your boyfriend took it upon himself to check up on you. He didn’t want you to collapse halfway. 

Bzzt, bzzt. 

You grabbed your phone, squinting your eyes against the blinding light as the screen lit up. 

Jungwon: Get ready in five, I’m coming to pick you up. 

You stared at the message, bemused and decided to call him. Jungwon picked up at the first rang. 

“Wonie, what’s with the message? Where are we going?” You asked, idly spinning your pen in between your index and middle fingers. You could faintly make-out the sound of his motorbike’s engine purring in the background along with the sounds of traffic. 

“I’m taking you out so you can relax for a while. I know you’ve been studying nonstop. Besides, is it a crime to see my girlfriend?” Jungwon replied, his smooth words making your cheeks flushed red. 

“Fine, see you later then,” you hung up, changing into more appropriate clothes.

You grabbed your keys and phone, slipping on your sneakers and stepped out of the house. You were just in time when a familiar motorbike came to a stop outside your home. Jungwon remained seated, pulling his helmet off, leaving his hair all messed up. He grins as you stop before him, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” you greeted, laughing when he pulled you closer with one hand wrapped around your waist. 

“I think you missed a spot,” he pointed out, ducking his head to kiss you squarely on your lips. It was a sweet and short kiss but it was enough for him to express his feelings towards you. Plus, it was also enough to make your heart flutter. 

“What a sap,” you teased, moving away and wearing the helmet he handed you. Jungwon drove off, leaving a trail of smoke behind once you were seated, with your arms wrapped around his waist. 

~

“W-Wonie, wait! Ngh!” You gasped through the kisses, unable to move away as you were being firmly pressed between his bike and your boyfriend’s chest. 

You should have known he was up to something amiss when you realised he brought you to the rooftop of a multi-storey car park. There were no signs of life, considering how normal people were already asleep as it is two in the morning. Jungwon mischievously grinned into the kiss, his warm hands snaking its way underneath your shirt. 

You gasped at the contrast of his palm against your cold skin and Jungwon used this as a chance to lift you up, making you sit on the narrow seat of his bike. To steady yourself and not fall backwards, you wrapped your legs around his waist, lips still interlocked. You obediently parted your lips, allowing him to explore the insides of your mouth. You tilted your head back, allowing Jungwon to trail kisses down your neck. 

Your breath hitched in your throat when his lips landed on your pulse point near your throat, flinching as he sucked and bit on your unblemished skin, no doubt leaving a mark behind. Invisible alarm bells went off in your mind when you felt his hand snaking down, tracing the hem of your shorts. You immediately stopped him, grabbing his wrist and breaking the kiss. 

“Wonie, are you serious? Right here?” You hissed in disbelief. 

His boba-like eyes glimmered, lips curling up. “Why not? You can be quiet, right?” He emphasized on the final word, pushing his hand down your shorts to rub your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. 

The contact made your mind blanked out, head leaning back as a high-pitched whine was drawn from the depths of your throat. Jungwon’s eyes remained fixated on your expression, greedily drinking in every minor change. He grinned when he felt your panties getting wetter and wetter. Without hesitation, he pulled down your shorts and panties, dropping them to the floor, ignoring the offended “hey!” from you. 

“Fuck!” 

You yelped, blindly flailing your hands about to find something to grab onto when you felt a familiar wet muscle gliding along your folds. You ended up digging your nails into the leather material of the seat, letting out uneven breaths as Jungwon eats you out like no tomorrow. He parted your puffy lips with his left index and middle fingers, sliding one long, thick finger in from his right hand to prep you. At the same time, he slid his tongue further in, humming as you bucked your hips forward at the delirious sensation.

“J-Jungwon—hah—p-please,” you pleaded, eyes rolling up as he inserted another finger, moving them in a scissor-like motion. The fact that you felt full from just his fingers made him chuckled—the vibration drawing a pathetic mewl from you. 

“Look at you, for someone who hesitated, you sure are eager,” he coos, faux sweetness in his voice. “All you needed was to be stuffed and you’re already a mess. Am I wrong?” 

You were tempted to reply with something snarky but the moment Jungwon twisted his fingers at the correct angle, you were a goner. 

“Wonie, oh god, please, please, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, feeling the familiar way your muscles tightened. Your legs twitched as Jungwon harshly sucked on your clit and that was enough to make you spill into his awaiting mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. 

You felt like you were floating, panting heavily to catch your breath. Your ears faintly make-out the sounds of Jungwon unzipping his pants. You yelped when he manhandled you, forcing you to stand on your trembling legs with your back facing him, leaving you to rest your elbows on the seat to support yourself. 

“Jungwon, wait—” You protested, nervousness seeping into your voice as you felt him nudging your legs apart, followed by him teasingly gliding his cock against your folds, collecting your juices to act as lubricant. 

“What? Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” he said, reaching out to grab your chin, turning your head around as he forced you to look at him.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow and you squirmed on the spot, feeling shy with how his intense gaze never left your face. You looked to the side but he wasn’t pleased. He tightened his grip, hard enough to elicit a hiss from you but not hard enough for pain to linger. 

“Look at me,” he demanded, his eyes darkened. 

You gulped, tongue darting out to lick your lips. The way his eyes followed the movement didn’t go unnoticed. “P-Please…” 

“Please what?” 

You whined, going the extra mile by batting your eyelashes at him, putting on an innocent act. “Please fuck me, Jungwon. Stop teasing me.” 

He hums, pleased with your response and kisses your forehead—an action so sweet and loving despite your current situation. “Well done, princess. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

This piece of shit! 

Your left eyebrow subtly twitched, anger flaring up but it was gone the moment Jungwon slowly pushes in, stretching you wide open to accommodate him. You hissed in pain as you struggled to adjust to his size. No matter how many times you’ve done this, it was impossible to take him; something that your boyfriend never fails to tease you about. 

“Fuck, how are you still so tight even after I’ve prepped you?” He cursed, already sounding ragged as he watched the way his cock slowly disappeared, inch by inch as he sunk into your warmth. 

Both of you groaned when he was fully in but the moment didn’t last long, not when Jungwon started thrusting, his hips snapping against your skin. Your elbows were violently quivering as you tried to hold yourself up but it was futile, not when you could feel him hitting the same spot, over and over, enough to make you see stars in your vision. You would have been face-planted if he didn’t pull you towards him with one hand wrapped around your waist. 

The rooftop was filled with the obscene sound of smacking flesh and your melody of sounds. Jungwon had to silence you with a kiss when you were getting too loud, not wanting anyone to walk in on the two of you. He swallowed your breathless mewls with his persistent lips, his free hand running down your body to rub your swollen clit in small, hurried circles. 

“Wonie, I’m not gonna last,” you whined into his mouth, gripping onto his broad shoulders for dear life as he continued his ruthless pace. 

He turned you around, returning you to your previous position as you sat on the edge of the seat. You wrapped your legs around his waist and the change of position allowed him to hit deeper, drawing another series of moans from you. 

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?” He pants, eyes never leaving your face as he continues to rub your clit. 

You frantically nodded your head, eyes squeezed shut. “Mhm! Please!”

“Then cum, I want to see you fall apart.” 

At his order, you reach your orgasm and Jungwon follows suit a few seconds later. You whined, your walls fluttering around his cock as he emptied himself inside you. At this point, your shirt was clinging onto your sweaty skin and you groaned at the uncomfortable feeling. Your boyfriend pulled out and you instinctively clamped your legs shut, shivering as you felt his cum trickling down your legs. He was kind enough to help you wear your panties and shorts and gave a playful slap to your ass. In return, you smacked his shoulder. 

“You’re ridiculous! I can’t believe you dragged me out of the house just to have sex,” you scolded him, arms crossed over your chest as you scowled. 

Jungwon chuckled, pulling out a packet of wet tissues as he cleans you, himself and the seat with different pieces before tossing them to the nearest bin. “I did say I was taking you out to relax.” 

“And this is your idea of relaxing?” You rolled your eyes. 

He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your cheek. “I didn’t hear you complaining though.” 

“Yang Jungwon, I’m going to kill you.” 

[unknownunidentified101]

ITS ME, NOT YOU

CHARACTER | Xavier, Zayne, Sylus and Rafayel x reader

SCENARIO | in which they confess their love for you after you wanted to move away from them

WARNINGS | hurt to comfort, suggestive?

ZAYNE

This is terrible. You groaned as your helmet was set on the rear end of your rigged bike. It was around midnight and you had received a call regarding your own physician.

Usually you wouldn’t mind picking up your estranged friend, Zayne, however your mind alerted you of your previous banter

Perhaps it was his late night shifts getting the better of him, regardless, his chilled persona faded at the mention of your work opportunities . Recently you had searched for a way to spice up your work life, taking in new commissions and staying up late.

These recent missions caused you to linger from doctor to doctor, leaving you to completely ghost Zayne for god knows how long. It didn’t bother you but it sure bothered him.

The way you preferred to visit another doctor or completely ignore his precautions and recklessly throw yourself into danger heated him to a breaking point.

Perhaps after getting use to your presence, Zayne yearned for more of it.

The only reason for your avoidance of him was because you wanted to ignore the blissful feelings of seeing him. Your relationship was strictly professional yet you find yourself fantasizing the presence of him.

You hated his cold personality yet you felt warm in those stern eyes when he brought up details that you had told him ages ago.

It was difficult maintaining your feelings for him, so in turn, you thought leaving him be would be for the better. This ended horribly however after he confronted you one day.

The confrontation left you storming out of his office after he continuously nagged you after every prolonged visit. It was hard to like someone that seemed to only want to make your life difficult.

Regardless, you roamed the empty streets of Linkon. Your eyes were peeled for any sight of the doctor. Surprisingly it wasn’t much of a challenge as the man seemed to be the outlier in an empty play ground

Your breath lingered in the foggy air for a moment, feet crunching towards the swinging man whose face was flushed with a red hue.

It was clear he had a few too many drinks, presumably from his colleagues. “ Zayne you’re going to catch a cold” you call out

Zayne’s head spins upwards, his eyes squint at you when you become more clearer to him.

“ you…” Zayne mutters a few words that are inaudible before you crouch in front of him

“ you are the girl from my dreams” he feels the need to point out. These words make you frown, ‘the girl of his dreams? What did he mean?’

“ it’s time to get you home” you ignore his murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in an attempt to support his standing weight

“ stop that” Zayne holds your wrist, halting your movements. “ stop what?” The purity in your voice makes Zayne focus back to your eyes

“ why do you avoid me?” You could smell Zayne’s intoxication, his eyebrows furrowed.

He was drunk, really drunk.

“ Zayne lets take you home” you try to focus on the matter at hand, rejecting your hand from his tight grip. Zayne’s hold on you was strong, balancing out in firm and being painless

“ these past few days, I worried about you. Whether you were eating well or if you missed me” Zayne’s voice softened, eyes pleading for some sort of reassurance from you as the moon coated him in its spell

“ and now you come back like none of that mattered” Zayne felt hurt, his breath being more ragged and shallow

“ Zayne you know I’m fine I just…been changing doctors because of my missions-“

“ so..? I’m your one and only physician. No place is far for me to go to you. I’m here to treat you” Zayne gently guided your hand to his swollen cheek. He was avoiding your gaze as if he was guilty of his actions

“ Zayne…you are drunk” you were skeptical, heart on the verge of plunging out your own chest

“ regardless if I’m drunk, I lov…” Zayne couldn’t finish his sentence. The words he meant to say caught up in his throat. Every single lifetime he was bound to a dreaded curse that forbid him from uttering those three loving words

I love you.

He wanted to say that. He knew even if he was sober he would never admit his true feelings towards you in fear of hurting you. He couldn’t stand for it.

“ Zayne what are you saying?” You leaned more closely, trying to hear him better with the view of his beautifully sunken face.

Zayne avoids your alluring gaze, instead, placing a light kiss on your cheek. “ I’m saying that I want to be yours” . There it was, that false sense of security that made you yearn for Zayne even more.

‘ Did he mean it? Was he that drunk?’ Your mind was spinning on a axis

“ I will never have the courage to say that to you when I’m sober so I’m letting you know now” Zayne’s large hands supported your own hands like it was a delicate snowflake

“ let me take care of you. Let me see you everyday, all the time” Zayne knew it was wrong, he knew he couldn’t but faced with the sight of you again, he couldn’t avoid losing you to someone else.

He wanted you again despite the pain he felt again and again.

He loved you so much even if he couldn’t utter those three words, I love you.

Silently after confessing, Zayne laid his head on your shoulder, accepting your invitation to take him home in the chilling weather.

Whether what he was true or not, you find your own hands repositioning around his shoulders in a hugging position. In one breath you let out, “ I like you too Zayne. I know now it was foolish of me to avoid these feelings” your arms tightly bound to him as you gave out your own confession

“ I promise I will have you for me only, I will not visit another doctor” you vow, feeling Zayne’s lips curve upwards at those words

“ and I promise I’ll cherish all I days the spend with you, my love. My only love.” Zayne replies, his delicate response leaving butterflies in your stomach. His hands coat your face, stroking it with a tender gaze

Zayne had reunited with his love again. This time, not intending to let go, sealing his promises into the form of peppered kisses

Sharing a longing kiss, Zayne felt greedy, stealing more than he intended.

XAVIER

Xavier knew he messed up. He hated it. How he couldn’t adapt to the new environment that you lived in. He couldn’t help his urge to sleep nor the lack of emotions he tended to exert

He felt bad it ruined the dates you had with him, how he would always be late despite numerous reminders. He felt bad and knew you were upset about it

Maybe that’s why you distanced yourself from him. Taking in more missions, spending more time with your other co-workers. He couldn’t blame you for that.

Xavier felt trapped in his own world due to the lack of communication. These feelings left him having the tendency to isolate himself away from you as well. However this night was an exception

“ careful” you and Xavier clashed around his apartment, stumbling to his bathroom

“ I’m sorry” Xavier profusely apologised for getting injured. The words that escaped your mouth seemed hurt and one sided to him

“ you should’ve alerted me. You know I hate seeing you hurt” you tone was lecturing, sounding more hurt than what Xavier actually felt

“ I’m sorry” Xavier repeated with innocent eyes, his back meeting the cold tiles of his restroom. “ stop saying that” you gritted your teeth as you couched before him

“ may i?” Your hands hover over his stained shirt. Xavier had nothing to do but bob his head slowly. You wasted no time, your hands tearing at the soft fabric, revealing the shallow gash on his chest

Your eyes averted the sight, feeling sorrow for him. If only he didn’t risk his life for a small wanderer. “ this is going to hurt…so brace yourself” your hands grasp the med kit you had brought over

Xavier observes your subtle movements, witnessing your hand unwrap the graze and alcohol. He itched to confess something, the feeling of guilt he had been feeling recently and the way he hated his habits

“ okay” you look into Xavier’s eyes as a form of mercy, pressing the cloth over his chest, cleaning the surrounding wound

Xavier’s groans were fairly quiet but his actions weren’t. You felt a tight grip around your free hand. Xavier had grabbed the closest thing to him, that being you

“ I’msososorry” Xavier quickly flocked back to his stilled state, realising his awkward actions.

“ no it’s okay” you reassure, only bring caught off guard. In an attempt to soothe his fragile state, you took his hand back in yours

“ you can hold my hand for support, I don’t mind” you reminded, continuing your patching

Xavier’s eyes wondered to your gentle behaviour in contrast to your previous actions. Your coating behaviour left his eyes drowsy as he felt at ease - at peace .

After you were done you decide to stand up in order to clean the area. That was your plan until a hand reaches out to you

“ [y/n]. I’m sorry I always nap. It was never my intention to skip out on our dates.” Xavier feels the need to bring up, knowing it was now or never

“ and I’m sorry I can’t express my emotions like you do. In truth I like you a lot. I really do and I’m willing to do anything for you” Xavier confesses all at once, making you even more stunned

“ is this what’s it’s always been about?” The change in your tone made Xavier shiver

“ Xavier I was never mad at you. I was mad that we couldn’t spend more time together and that’s…my fault” your words make Xavier’s ears perk

“ I’ve been avoiding my feelings for you all this time, I’m sorry if that affected you in any way” Your hands cup his soft face without any retaliation from the receiving end

“ You don’t have to apologise” Xavier’s lips curve into a smile. “ you too” you reply, placing a soft peck on his empty lips

Xavier pulls back so suddenly, surprised by your wits. Although it doesn’t take long for him to quickly adapt and move in to steal another kiss

“ alright then. Let’s both not avoid our feelings for each other and embrace it” Xavier’s hands cups your own while the other tangles around your waist

Your eyes close before your lips are invited into another lasting kiss. This feeling is all too familiar to Xavier, in fact, he remembers his past lives with you.

It’s a cozy and warm feeling, shielding him with that sense of security. This feeling leaves him smiling softly

“ I love you and I will never leave you, again”Xavier vows, hands wrapping around your waist in an attempt to pull you down on top of him

The kiss soon turns deeper when your body is supported by Xavier’s touch’s and reassurances.

“ beautiful” he calls out, taking in your breathtaking appearance that coats him with love. Your lips erupt a giggle, enough to make Xavier feel butterflies in his stomach. The feelings of butterflies was a moto he didn’t understand until now

“ let me indulge you tonight” Xavier whispers, coating to hands in his as he drags you into the endless night of stars

SYLUS

“ you told me to find someone to keep me occupied so I did? What’s wrong with that?” You yelled, standing your ground before the man in front of you

Sylus pauses, weighting his decisions. He wanted to tell you he meant himself, he wanted you to be with him. and yet his feelings created a wall he couldn’t cross

“ god Sylus you never understand do you? You keep me here and you always keep everything to yourself despite us being friends” Your frustrations were being let out.

In truth you weren’t mad at Sylus for ruining your date, you were just mad about work and evidently without thinking straight, you took it out on him

“ in fact we aren’t friends, our situation is more like enemies…you said you didn’t like me nor my guts” you voice softens

“ I never said that” Sylus is quick to defend, his tone neutral

“ yeah but it seems like you do.” You found yourself getting even more angrier than before. This wasn’t you, and you knew it. Opening your mind and thinking clearly you end it at that

“ just don’t go that again. And don’t send Mephisto after me again.” you coldly grab your bag, heading to the door. Sylus stands there Idly, having no words to express his emotions as he watches you leave.

It had been a few weeks by now, not that you kept count. Lately you had been miserable, taking in more work commissions to cover the pain from that night.

‘Why did Sylus worry all the time? Why did he always make time for you?’. All these questions made your feelings prominent, you were falling for Sylus and you couldn’t admit that fact

Perhaps you should’ve stayed to listen to Sylus. But what did it matter he seemed to stop bothering you, keeping his promise.

Although only occasionally did you receive letters checking on your welfare.

Walking through the pathway to your home you couldn’t shake the familiar feeling of eyes watching you. Strange because you seemed to be surrounded by swaying trees

Did Sylus send Mephisto again? You couldn’t help but long for an answer

“ l want you to leave me alone” you remembered your vow. Speaking out loud to the feeling you all too well. You knew Sylus was behind you, not Mephisto this time

Sylus shifts slightly on the gravel pavement, unmoving. He appears out of the blue, like a movie to you.

“ Sylus what are you doing here?” Your feet shuffle backwards, unsure if you were in a dazed and crazed state

“ I can’t bare this any longer.” Sylus’s hair is raffled, cheeks pink and appearance unkept as he moves in to your position

“ are you drunk Sylus-“

“ yes you were right back then, your argument was totally valid. I shouldn’t have ruined your date nor should I have sent Mephisto after you.” Sylus refutes, grabbing your attention by moving closely to you

“ but..You are the existence of my being. I love you dearly and I can’t spend a day without hearing you, touching you and seeing you. So no I can’t grant your request” Sylus admits as his tone softens. It almost sounds unbelievable, leaving you stunned

“ Sylus you look drunk, did Luke and Kieran sent you to do this?” You couldn’t help but have worry laced in your tone.

“ I don’t want to fight like this any longer” Sylus ignores your questioning, taking your hand in one motion, catching you off guard

“ sweetie, I’m sorry for making you feel this way” Sylus guides your hand to cup his face.

His smooth word swayed you. Sylus had never raised his voice at you and sometimes you hated that. His charming persona and sweet talk

“ don’t say things-“

Sylus acts on your word. Placing a quick peck to your lips. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back, escaping his loose grip

“ I truely adore you” his eyes shower you with a warm feeling.

You feel all your regret come to light. “ I didn’t know you felt that way…I’m sorry” you suddenly realise your true feelings for Sylus as well

“ perhaps you should go out with me instead” Sylus proposed, taking the burden of your worries off your shoulders

Those final words make the corner of your lips turn upwards. Finally you had smiling after a long time.

“ you could’ve started with that” your hands attach to Sylus, speeding him into a hug

“ then…can I request a kiss?” Sylus’s face shifts to in lock your eyes. You chuckle sheepishly, leaning upwards to place a lasting kiss to his lips

Sylus cups your head, supporting you as he prolongs the kiss. “ and one more request” Sylus makes another statement

Your face smiles, a mischievous look on your face before Sylus pushes tightly against his chest. “ could I perhaps…have you for the rest of the night too?”

RAFAYEL

“ have you ever thought of getting married?” A question sticks in Rafayel’s head. Marriage, a far fetched term that he longed for. Rafayel’s lips turn into a thin line

- “ no”

“ I pronounce you husband and wife” the middle announces, allowing the bride and groom to make amends. A purple haired man stands in the distance, swirling his cup as he simply observes

“ congratulations on your wedding, Thomas.” The sign reads. Rafayel couldn’t help but feel envy for his manager, although he gave him a hard time, Thomas always had better end of the stick

Rafayel’s eyes scanned around, his hands twitching at the thought of marriage. In his mind, he imagines a lavish wedding that is limited to his close circle. His bride? The girl of his dreams

Rafayel couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. You and him had an argument before you left abroad. It had been weeks since he saw you and it was unbearable.

He only had the courage to look ‘ properly ’ for his friend, despite his crippling state. After all Rafayel owed Thomas for showing up as he hadn’t been keeping up with dead lines for his art projects

He had no motivation to paint, not after his muse was gone. Oh how he regretted it all, that petty argument and that painful bond that linked your lifetimes together

He had lost you again and he had no one to blame but himself.

All night he had spent looking at his phone, all the missed calls and texts he would send to you were never opened or replied too.

“ thank you for showing up” Thomas was now by his side, walking around to show his sincerity. “ I owe you” Rafayel simply nodded, the sassiness in his tone gone

Thomas gives an awkward smile, his attitude towards Rafayel had changed after Rafayel’s personality shifted to a rather cold one. “ well, have a good one” Thomas could only pat Rafayel’s shoulder in reassurance

Rafayel dismisses it, watching the crowd ahead of him dance happily with their partners. Such a grim reminder leaves Rafayel clenching his own fists

His heart couldn’t take it anymore, you were his purpose and now you were gone.

“ care for a dance?” A voice comforts him. That voice…it’s way too familiar to him. Rafayel spins around and meets an alluring pair of eyes

“ oh…it’s..you” the voice recognizes him in shock

“ you…

It’s you, [y/n].”

—- later

“ it’s so cold” you cursed the harsh weather of the night. If only you dressed for such an occasion. “ how am I going to get home” you huff, your driver who was your friend was too drunk to get you home. Adding more, you dreaded the fact you lost your phone

“ here” a cape drapes over your shoulders. The stern voice is difficult not to recognize. It’s Rafayel and he found you again

“ you found me” you mutter, shyly avoiding his gaze. “ your lucky other people got to me before we could dance” Rafayel stands beside you, reversing the roles of you being his body guard

“ why am I lucky” your sentence was quiet as you peered down at the cars racing past. Rafayel takes a peek at you, savoring every bit of your features

“ they stopped me from leaping forward to hug you” he confesses, erupting a long forgotten flutter in your chest

“ why did you come back?” Rafayel is confused to say the least, turning around to face you properly, one on one after some awkward silence

Your mind races for responses for him, “ I never went away”

“ really.” Rafayel’s tone is quiet while he collects his thoughts. “ I lost my phone so I..couldn’t talk to you-“

“ you should’ve visited me.” Rafayel interrupted, his voice sounding genuinely hurt after waiting you for endlessly

“ I’m sorry, I should’ve done that…that’s why I came to this wedding, because I knew you be here” your sweet words get to Rafayel. No matter how much Rafayel wanted to resent you, he couldn’t

Your voice was a siren that casted him into an irresistible trance.

“ if that’s the case..” Rafayel uses his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace in a split second. Your body feels limp after being caught off guard

“ let me take you home” Rafayel whispers softly into your ear, his hands cupping your hand

“ okay” you close your eyes, cherishing the long awaited hug.

—- Later

The clashing of kisses trailed down your neck. “ thank you for this” Rafayel praises, allowing you to climb on top of him

“ I’m really sorry” Your hands are bare on his chest, his chest who rapidly moves up and down in amusement. “ it’s okay, it really is”

Rafayel uses his hand to coax your face, his eyes softer than before, his personality had seemingly all but faded.

Instead he had a different look in his face. One that was complete admiration.

“ please…” Rafayel inhales. “ please don’t ever leave me waiting like this again” Rafayel inhales once more, his hands covering your cheeks

“ I won’t” you promise, your torso bending downwards to meet the man in a loving kiss

[flickering-chandelier]

Full Throttle

✨ Sequel to Was Any Of It True? ✨

Pairing: Modern badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: honestly no plot, just smut and fluff. Little snapshots of life with these two cuties.

Based on this request! 🩷 And also this lol 🫶🏻

Warnings: smut, swearing, brief mention of family abuse (very vague about Az's past)

Word Count: 5.1k

Azriel smiled as he read your text.

The essay is complete! I'm all yours. 

He'd never get tired of that thought, that you were his, that he was yours. He texted back immediately:

That might be a new record, bookworm. I'll be there in 10.

“Aaaaand, he's ditching us for the girl. Again,” Cassian groaned before Azriel had even said anything.

Rhysand chuckled. “Why are you surprised?”

Azriel didn't bother to hide his grin. “What can I say, boys? She's much prettier than you.”

His friends laughed and made fun of him for a few more minutes, and by the time he was making his way to his motorcycle, you had texted back.

Maybe I just couldn't wait to see you. 

Azriel's heart swelled. He couldn't believe how lucky he was.

When he pulled up to the library, he slid off his bike and leaned against it, waiting for you to come outside.

Even from a distance, he could see that your eyes were bright as you made your way toward him, a bounce in your step that proved you were proud of the work you had accomplished today. Azriel felt pride rush through him.

He met you halfway, taking your heavy backpack from your outstretched hand, slinging it over his shoulder as you twined your fingers with his. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You grinned, tilting your chin up as you walked back to his motorcycle, silently asking for a kiss. Azriel smirked, leaning down to give you one.

Azriel handed you your helmet when you got to his bike, as you said, your smile bright, “I got so much done today, Az!”

“Proud of you, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling your body against his to kiss you again. “You are a beautiful, beautiful genius,” he said in between kisses, holding your face in his hands.

You were getting breathless, he could tell. You sighed happily, leaning into him even more. 

“Take me home,” you said into his mouth, your voice raspy.

He groaned, taking the helmet from your hands and sliding it over your head.

You laughed as he hopped onto the bike quickly, impatiently waiting for you to settle in behind him.

He was going to get you home as soon as humanly possible. 

On the short drive home, your hands may have wandered a bit.

Smiling to yourself, you laid your palms flat on his stomach, moving lower, lower…

Your hands settled on his growing bulge and he reached back, gripping your thigh hard. It was an effort not to squirm. There was no quicker way to get him going.

Azriel growled when you finally made your way into your apartment, pinning you against the door immediately, his hard body pressing into yours, kissing you with such ferocity that it made your head spin.

“You used to be such a good girl,” he teased, nipping at your neck. “Now you're getting me all riled up in public.”

A moan escaped you as he gripped your ass with one hand, while the other tangled in your hair, pulling on it to expose more of your neck to him. He continued his trail of little bites and kisses as you groaned, “It was hardly public. Nobody was around.” 

He laughed into your skin, and you went in for the kill, knowing it would set him off. “And I'm still your good girl,” you panted.

He halted his movements, his eyes darkening with need as he pulled back to look at you with a devious smile. “Prove it.”

You took a moment to give him your sweetest, most innocent smile before you dropped to your knees and unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and his boxers down his thighs. Your mouth was around him in a matter of moments.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his hands moving to gently hold the back of your head.

You hummed somewhat smugly as you took as much of him as you could down your throat, stroking the rest of his length with your hand. 

“Fuck,” he leaned his forearms against the door, pushing himself deeper down your throat, starting to thrust in and out, the back of your head now resting on the door. 

“Look at me, baby,” he grunted, and when your eyes rose to meet his, he groaned loudly, thrusting in and out a few more times before pulling out of your mouth and helping you stand up, kissing you fiercely when you were upright. 

You pushed his pants down the rest of the way and pulled his shirt over his head, desperate to feel his skin.

He smirked as he grasped your ass with both hands, lifting you in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom.

As soon as he set you on your feet, you were reaching for your own clothes, but he grabbed your wrists, halting you. You looked up at him curiously and were nearly knocked off your feet at the lust in his gaze. 

Azriel moved your hands to your sides, then slowly curled his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his eyes laser focused on your body as he revealed your skin inch by inch.

“Az,” you whined. This was taking too long, you needed him now--

“Shhh,” he said as he finally lifted your shirt over your head, leaning down to kiss down your neck, over your breasts, down your stomach, as he unhooked your bra with one hand and let it slide off your form. 

He trailed his lips back up, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking hard as he slid your pants down your legs agonizingly slowly. 

When you were left in nothing but your underwear, you felt dizzy with need. “Az, please.”

Az laughed darkly before he picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. You landed on your back and before you could even react, he was over you, sliding your panties down your legs.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gruffly into your neck. 

“I want all of you,” you gasped, wrapping your arms around him, resting your hands on his back. “Now.”

He moaned, sliding fully into you in one swift movement. You gasped, clutching to him.

Azriel moved slowly at first, giving you time to adjust to him. He gazed into your eyes, twining his fingers with yours, raising your hand above your head. 

You raked your fingers through his hair, pulling his head down to meet his lips with yours. He kissed you gently, a perfect juxtaposition to him pounding into you faster now.

You moaned into his mouth and you felt him smile, his hips slapping against you harder. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmured, and you gasped, raking your nails down his back.

“I told you so,” you said breathlessly.

He laughed, kissing down your chest, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

You groaned, arching your back off the mattress.

“Mmm, I know what that means,” he growled. “You ready to come for me, bookworm?”

All you could do was moan, spurring him on to move even faster against you. 

He held your chin gently, looking into your eyes as you came undone, and he followed right after, groaning loudly.

When he had finished, he slumped on top of you, breathing hard. 

After you both caught your breath, he slid out of you with a grunt, going to your bathroom and coming back with a wet towel, cleaning you up gently before crawling back into bed with you.

Azriel kissed you softly, gently moving your hair off your face, before pulling you to his chest. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, too,” you said sleepily, listening to his heartbeat against your ear as you fell asleep.

---

Azriel groaned, tightening his arms around you as your alarm went off.

You pulled out of his reach to turn it off, but as soon as you did, his arms were around you, pulling you back against his chest. 

“It's too early,” he murmured, kissing your neck. “Stay with me.”

When you sighed sleepily, he knew you were contemplating it. 

“I need to go over my notes before class,” you grumbled.

Azriel shifted, turning you to face him, “you're the most brilliant person in the world,” he said, kissing you softly. “You can go one day without looking at your notes before class.” 

You giggled and his heart soared. “I'm not that brilliant.”

“You are,” he said, kissing you again, his hand wandering down to your hip.

“Brilliant people check their notes before class,” you smiled.

“Brilliant people stay in bed with their boyfriends for as long as possible,” he smirked. “I read a study about it yesterday.”

You rolled your eyes, and he couldn't resist kissing you again. “You've never read a study in your life,” you murmured against his lips.

He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were pressed against each other. He held your face in his hands. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours. “Just this once.”

When you bit your lip, he knew he had convinced you. “Okay,” you said quietly. 

He grinned, crushing you into his chest, and you laughed. “I love you too, but I can't breathe.”

“Oh shit,” he said, easing his hold on you.

You spent the rest of the morning in his arms. You traced your finger over the tattoo on his shoulder, trailing up his neck and down his bicep. “What do they mean?” You asked quietly.

He smiled, watching your finger trail over his body. “Luck. Cassian and Rhys have similar ones. We all got them together.”

Your eyes met his then. “Luck for what?” You asked, and he could tell you wondering if it was about his elusive family. 

“A better life,” he said quietly, leaning in to brush a soft kiss to your lips. “I guess they worked.”

You flushed, hiding your face in his chest. He laughed, grateful he could still get you flustered like that. 

“My family,” he said quietly, and you went perfectly still, your face still hidden to him. He gently stroked your hair. He cleared his throat, steeling himself to tell you what he had never told anyone else. “My family was… abusive. To me. My stepmom and step brothers hated me. They didn't see me as one of them, so… they were awful. Really, really awful,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Rhys and Cassian's upbringings weren't much better. So as soon as we turned 18, we got these tattoos and we left without looking back.”

He tilted your chin up to look at him and his heart melted when he saw the tears on your cheeks. “I'm sorry,” you whispered. “I had no idea.”

He smiled lightly, kissing the tears off your cheeks one at a time. “Nobody does,” he whispered. “Nobody, but my new family,” tears walked up in his own eyes now as he gazed at you. “My brothers… and you.”

You choked on a sob and he brought his rough hands to your cheeks, wiping the fresh tears away with his fingers as he kissed you softly. 

It was torturous to be apart from you from that moment on. 

---

You felt closer to Azriel than ever, since he had told you about his past, and had called you his family. It made butterflies flutter through your stomach every time you thought about it. 

Apparently it also showed on your face because Az slung his arm around over your shoulders and kissed your cheek, whispering in your ear, “What are you all smiley about?”

“You,” you smiled.

Cassian and Rhysand groaned. “You two are disgusting.”

You laughed, leaning your head on Az’s shoulder, who looked thrilled. You had been spending more time with his friends, wanting to get to know them better. It was also partly because you felt guilty that Azriel kept ditching them to spend time with you.

The doorbell rang then, and Azriel went down to get the food you all had ordered.

After he left, Rhysand turned to you, “I know we give him a lot of shit, but we are really glad that he has you.”

Cassian smiled at you genuinely for probably the first time. “You've changed him. He's never been this happy in his life.”

You flushed, and before you could reply, Azriel was back. He noticed the look on your face and raised an eyebrow, “What just happened?”

“Time to eat!” Cassian cut in, taking the bags from Az’s hands and divvying up the food.

Azriel looked to you, and you smiled, patting his shoulder. “I'll tell you later,” you whispered.

Later, the boys were playing a video game that you had tried to play with them, but you died so much that you slowed everyone down, so you opted to read a book instead.

Azriel cuddled you in every spare moment that the game allowed, sometimes accidentally letting Cassian or Rhys die while his hand was on your thigh, or when he was pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

The boys were not hesitant to show their frustration, but Azriel would just shrug, kissing you again.

You felt so unbelievably in love. 

It was well into the night when you two ended up back at Azriel's apartment. 

You were exhausted. He tossed you one of his t-shirts and you stripped down to your underwear before slipping it on over your head. He stripped down to his boxers, his eyes trailing your body with a faint smile on his face the whole time.

You both got settled in his bed, facing each other. You felt so tired, but couldn't close your eyes, couldn't peel them from Azriel’s. His hazel eyes were twinkling even in the darkness.

“What did they say while I was gone?” Az asked quietly, stroking your cheek.

You smiled. “They said they're glad that we're together. And that they've never seen you so happy.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, leaning closer to you, “I never have been this happy.”

A blissful sigh escaped from you as he gently touched his lips to yours, kissing you slowly. Lovingly.

His hand found its way to your hip, easing your body closer to his, like he had all the time in the world.

For a while, he kissed you and kissed you, tongue entwining with yours gently. 

Eventually his hands trailed down to the hem of your shirt. Well, his shirt.

His eyes were trained on yours as he gently pulled it over your head and tossed it aside.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured into your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, your stomach. 

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and he looked up at your face, smiling, like he had been waiting for it.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, brushing a lock of overgrown hair out of his face. “So are you,” you said, your eyes trailing across his broad shoulders, his massive biceps, his toned stomach. 

He chuckled, moving up your body to kiss your lips again. “Thank you, bookworm.”

Azriel took his time kissing you again, his hand trailing down to your panties, sliding them off slowly. 

You gasped as he pressed a thumb to your clit, then slipped a finger inside you.

“Az,” you moaned quietly as he started pumping his finger in and out of you. 

He smiled softly, watching your expression. “Good?”

All you could do was nod, biting your lip. His smile grew; his fingers moved faster. You gripped the bedsheets, watching him.

You whimpered and he halted his movements. "You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathed, reaching for him.

He smiled dreamily, sliding off his boxers and hovering over you, settling his elbows on either side of your head. 

His eyes bore into yours as he slid into you. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against yours.

Your hands found their way into his hair as he moved inside you, kissing you lightly on your lips, your neck, your breasts.

Azriel pulled back to look into your eyes, holding you close to him. “You're everything to me,” he murmured, his hips meeting yours in a slow, steady rhythm.

You felt your bottom lip tremble and he wiped his thumb over it gently, his eyes laser focused on you. “You're everything to me,” you admitted, breathlessly.

His mouth turned up into that half smile that you loved. “Even more than books?”

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, gently pulling him down for a kiss. “Even more than books,” you said.

He moaned, picking up speed slightly. Then he laughed. “That turned me on way more than I was expecting.”

You laughed too, and within a few minutes, the two of you were climaxing together, holding each other tightly.

After you caught your breath and cleaned up, you said, “I want your shirt back.”

Azriel laughed, delight flooding his expression as he tossed it back to you. “Good. It looks better on you than it ever could on me.”

---

When you didn’t meet Azriel for dinner, he was worried. You were always on time. Always. 

He was thankful the two of you had shared your location with each other ages ago. When he checked, you were in your apartment, and seemingly hadn’t moved in hours. 

There was no answer when he knocked. He fished the spare key you’d given him out of his pocket and went into your apartment. 

He found you in bed, fast asleep. You looked pale, a shiny gleam of sweat on your brow. He frowned, feeling your forehead, and swore. You were burning up. 

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut even tighter. “Az?”

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, stroking your cheek.

Scrunching your nose, you mumbled, “I don’t feel good.”

“I can tell,” he murmured. “One second, I’ll be right back,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before he went to your kitchen.

He came back with a glass of water and ibuprofen. “Can you sit up, baby?”

You opened your eyes slowly, then reached for his wrist, laser focused on your own hand as you touched him. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I thought I was hallucinating you,” you said matter-of-factly, your eyes sleepy.

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh, despite his concern. “Oh, wow. Okay, this is worse than I thought.”

He set the water and medicine on the bedside table, then climbed into bed with you, sitting against the headboard, then gently pulling you to a sitting position, settling you between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. You groaned, leaning your head back against him, too.

“Drink this,” he said softly, holding the cup in front of you, his other hand resting on your thigh. 

“I don’t like water without ice,” you mumbled.

“I know. If you’d open your eyes, you’d see the ice in the glass.”

After a moment, you said, “Oh.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as you took the cup from his hand, taking a few sips. 

“Take this,” he said, holding two ibuprofen in front of you. 

You swallowed them without argument, leaning back against him like it took great effort just to do that.

“You wanna lay back down?” He asked.

“Please,” you said quietly. 

He shifted, easing you back against the pillows as gently as he could. “Anything else I can do?”

“I’m too hot,” you grumbled. 

He rifled through your drawers, pulling out shorts and a tank top for you before sliding your pajama pants and your t-shirt off. Getting the new clothes on you was more effort than he had anticipated. He wasn’t used to putting your clothes on.

You let out a satisfied sigh though, when you had changed. 

He refilled your water glass and set it on the table before he slid into bed next to you, holding you in his arms. 

“You don't have to stay,” you mumbled.

“Don't be stupid,” he said, brushing the hair off your face. “Of course I'm staying.”

“I love you,” you muttered, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“I love you, too,” he said, kissing your head softly. “Go to sleep.”

It was a long night, not only because it started around 7. Azriel barely slept. He was too busy feeling your forehead, bringing you cold towels, willing your fever to go down. 

By the morning, you seemed to be doing a bit better, but still not back to normal. 

You mumbled something incoherent, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Hmm?” he asked, tilting your chin up so he could hear you. 

“Shower?” you asked, your eyes finally opening and focusing on him. 

He kissed the top of your head before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your bathroom. 

It was the least sexy shower he had ever taken. You were slumping over, leaning against him to stay upright. He had one arm looped around you, running the soap over your body with his other hand. 

It worried him that you could hardly hold yourself up. 

He had watched you like a hawk all morning until, a few hours later, still slumped over in your bed, you said, “What time is it?”

He checked his phone. “Almost 11.”

“Shit,” you said, sitting up, grabbing for your own phone. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You stood up, looking exhausted. “I have to go to class.”

Raising an eyebrow, he watched as you looked around for your backpack. “You’re kidding, right? You can barely sit up for fifteen minutes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, a little frantically. “This professor is strict, I can’t miss any notes.”

He stood up, crossing over to you, settling his hands on your shoulders so you’d stop and look at him. “Sweetheart, you need to stay here and rest.”

You shook your head, your eyes welling with tears. “I can’t, Az, I have to go.”

Heart breaking for you, his hands moved to your cheeks. “Baby, you can miss one class. You know you can’t go like this.”

You slumped back down on the bed, exhausted. “I know,” you said, your voice breaking. “But this class is so much work. If I miss one class, I’ll be so behind.”

Azriel sat next to you, helping you lay back down in your bed. “Do you know anybody in the class? I can go get the notes for you.”

You swallowed, then shook your head lightly. “No. I don’t know anybody who would give me the notes.”

“You sure?” He asked. “Nobody?”

Sighing, you settled back against the pillows. “Claire is the only person in the class that I know,” you said quietly. 

His stomach dropped. He hadn’t thought about Claire in a long time, hadn’t seen her in almost a year, not since the party that nearly ruined your life, and his. 

“I can ask her,” he said quietly.

“No.”

“If you’re this worried about it, I’ll ask her,” he said soothingly, running his hand back and forth on your leg.

“She won’t give them to you,” you grumbled. 

The hurt in your voice, in your eyes, made his heart crack. He knew you were remembering it all, all the hurt that he and Claire had caused last year. “Let me try? For you?”

You looked into his eyes, studying him. Finally, you said quietly, “Okay.”

Azriel would do anything for you. This proved it. Claire was the last person that he ever wanted to see. 

He would convince her to give you those notes. He didn’t know how, but he would figure it out. 

You had given Azriel the room number for your class, and he lingered outside just before it ended, waiting for class to let out. 

When Claire walked out, he cleared his throat. She turned to him, her smile positively feline. “Azriel. I haven’t seen you around this year.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said shortly. “I need a copy of the lecture notes from today.”

She raised her eyebrow. “The bookworm’s got you running errands when she skips class now?”

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped. “Are you going to give me the notes, or not?”

Claire looked at Azriel, studying him. “Why should I?”

“You owe her. This is the least you can do,” he said, not trying to hide the edge in his voice. 

She shook her head, incredulously. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, she does. And she’s half delirious with a fever right now, but she’s still stressed enough about these notes that I’m here, talking to you. So, give me the notes.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his harsh tone. She looked at him for a beat longer before, wordlessly, she took her notebook out, flipped to the most recent page, and handed it to him. 

He took a picture of it with his phone, then handed it back to her. “Thanks, Claire.”

Without another word, he turned on his heels, going back home to you. 

You were asleep when he let himself back into your apartment, and he was thankful to see a little more color in your face than when he had left. 

He closed the door behind him, and your eyes opened slowly, a faint smile spreading on your face when you saw him. 

“How’d it go?” 

Azriel smiled, showing you the picture of the notes on his phone, before texting it to you. 

You grinned, “Wow. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

He laughed, his heart thundering in his chest at your words. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “And you’re mine.”

--- 

“Fucking hell,” Azriel said, his eyes trailing down your body. “That’s what you’re wearing today?” 

“What?” you asked, looking down at your sundress. “You don’t like it?”

He smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. He kissed down your neck, nipping lightly. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you.”

You giggled, heat running through you at his touch. “If you hadn’t made dinner reservations, I would say that we should skip date night, but…”

He groaned, threading his fingers through your hair and kissing you deeply. “Why’d I have to think ahead and be responsible?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with me,” you sighed as he continued kissing you. 

“Impossible,” he said happily, peppering kisses all over your face. 

All throughout dinner, Azriel’s eyes were boring into yours, his eyes dark with lust, his leg brushing yours under the table, his hand holding yours. 

It was maddening.

As soon as you were back in your apartment, Azriel bent you over your kitchen table, flipping your skirt up before smacking your ass lightly. 

He growled as he slid your panties down your legs, immediately putting his mouth on you, sucking hard.

You groaned, clinging to the table, focusing on keeping yourself upright just as much as you were focusing on the feel of him devouring you.

When he moaned against you, your legs started trembling. “Az, I need you inside me,” you panted. 

He stood up immediately, and you shivered as you heard him undo his belt, dropping his pants, pulling off his shirt. 

“Fuck,” he moaned through gritted teeth as he entered you completely with one powerful thrust. He pounded into you in hard, fast movements, his thighs slapping against your ass over and over again. 

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the feeling of him inside you. 

He wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling gently, his other hand gripping your waist tightly. 

You whimpered, but as he sped up his pace, slamming into you even harder, you let out an involuntary shriek. 

“That’s it, scream for me, baby,” he growled. 

So, you did.

---

You sighed, resting your head on your arms for a moment. Finals were quickly approaching and you were exhausting yourself. 

A knock on your door made your heart leap. There’s only one person who would show up without warning. 

There was a newfound energy, a bounce in your step as you opened the door to find Azriel on the other side, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he smiled, offering the flowers to you. 

“What are these for?” you asked, your heart thundering in your chest. 

He leaned down to kiss you. “Figured you’re driving yourself insane with studying by now,” he said, smiling. “And also because I love you.”

You beamed, rising to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I love you. Thank you, Az, this is so sweet.” 

Wandering into the kitchen to get a vase, you sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming up behind you, pulling you into him once the flowers were settled on the table. 

You shrugged. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” He asked, his brow furrowed with concern. 

You couldn't help but smile, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “Not unless you want to do my homework. Or figure out what I should do this summer.”

‘What are you thinking for the summer?” He said.

“I don't know. I want to stay close by…” you trailed off, smiling at him. “There's kinda this guy I want to spend time with as much as I can.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss you. “So, stay close by. What is there to figure out?”

“My lease is up at the end of the semester,” you said, sadly. “And everything in my budget is pretty much booked.”

“Well,” he said softly, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. “What if you moved in with me?”

Your eyes widened, your heart pounding. “Really? Do you think we're ready for that?”

“I mean, we spend all of our time together already. All of our nights,” he said, shifting to press a kiss to your forehead. “I know that I'm more in love with you than I could have ever imagined,” he smiled. “If it's not what you want, that's okay. But, I think it could be kinda great.”

You pictured it, living with Azriel, sharing your life with him in that way. “I think it would be really great,” you beamed up at him.

His face lit up, his eyes shining. “Yeah?”

“Let's do it,” you said.

He grinned, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around, his deep laugh bouncing off the walls. “I love you,” he murmured, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “I can't wait for the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart soared, your knees weak. “Me either, Az.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02

Want to see more? Check out part 3!

[captain-hawks]

oh well... I mean... how about oliver x snowed in? do we manage not to punch him in the face by the end of it?

over easy 🎀 oliver aiku x f!reader

In which domesticity creeps into the all the cracks in you and Oliver's casual arrangement as you find yourself snowed in at his apartment.

1.4k — fluff, soft oliver, fwb, mentions of sex

It’s no good for your stupid, reckless heart—this predicament.

“Over easy? And two sugars in your coffee, right?” Oliver’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

It’s so fucking domestic, the way he says it. 

Like you’re not just some girl he fucks into his king size mattress in the middle of the night twice a week.

Like you’re not just going on your third morning of being stranded at his apartment because your car’s buried under several feet of snow that just keeps on coming down.

Like it’s okay that your heart fumbles meekly behind the confines of your ribcage whenever he tugs you back into his bed to stay the night. 

(That beats so hard it aches when he spins you around to kiss you in the doorway on your way out.)

You’re not dating.

You can’t date him.

Oliver doesn’t date.

But he’s handsome and charming and polite and funny and the sex is so good that you’ve never come so hard in your life and—

There’s no fucking Oliver out of your system unless it’s with Oliver himself.

And if you have some inconvenient feelings dangling on the sidelines, that’s your cross to bear on your own time when he’s not fucking you stupid in the backseat of his car or eating you out on his kitchen counter.

You don’t ask Oliver what he does on nights that he’s not with you. And you tell yourself it’s because it’s none of your goddamn business, not because you know his answer would probably hurt you too much to hear.

You assume, anyway.

But now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve lost any and all hope of digging your car out by tomorrow for your family dinner—not that you really wanted to go to that, anyway. 

And Oliver’s humming a Christmas song under his breath while he makes you breakfast, while you stand in his living room wearing nothing but one of his practice jerseys while perusing his bookshelf. 

It feels dangerously, terribly, awfully domestic.

And part of you thinks you’d be better off trudging across town home on foot than bearing the full weight of this walk of shame when the snow melts.

You’ve spent hours on his couch over the past few days, and he can’t seem to stop touching you. He scoots closer if you sit down too far away, places a hand on your ankle if it’s in reach, tucks your feet under his thigh. He puts his head in your lap or tugs yours down into his when you start yawning. He plays with your hair and your fingers—

And the two of you have been making your way through your favorite show, one that he’s never seen, one that you didn’t even think he would like. But it was his idea.

You even went down to his apartment building’s gym last night—something which didn’t feel strange in and of itself until Oliver kept appearing out of nowhere any time a guy tried to strike up a conversation with you, going so far as outright making out with you while you were on one of the stationary bikes. 

(The two of you barely made it through the door back up in his apartment before he was fucking you right there on the floor in the entryway.)

And you’ve yet to examine the feeling that stirred in your gut when you found oat milk in his fridge, knowing full well he doesn’t drink it. 

“Oh yeah, almost forgot to tell you. That’s for you, I picked it up the other day. I know you hate using regular milk in your coffee.”

—and the bag of mini dark chocolate bars you spotted in his cabinet last night.

“Yeah, yeah, you were right. Dark chocolate’s better.”

—and the brand-new, full-size bottle of your body wash that was staring you in the face when the two of you climbed into his shower the first morning, a mirror to the tiny travel bottle that you’ve taken to keeping in your purse for accidental sleepovers.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to have to carry soap around in your purse—”

You hadn’t even realized he knew you did that.

And yet now, as your eyes stray to the Christmas tree that sits in the corner of his living room between two large windows that overlook the city below, it’s the sight beneath it that promises to be your undoing.

Nestled between several gifts addressed to his parents and sisters is a box wrapped in gold paper with a blue bow on it. Your name is written carefully in his handwriting on the white tag stuck to the top of it. 

Your heart catches in your throat.

—and oh god you’re going to kick his ass if it’s some stupidly expensive piece of jewelry that he probably didn’t even pick out himself in there, one that’ll make you feel like you’re his even if you’re really not.

And you didn’t even get him anything because this is fucking casual—

“Wanna open it now?” You jump as Oliver’s voice comes up beside you, his chest against your back while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” you stall, your noses brushing when you turn to look at him, but he spins you back toward the tree. 

“Yeah, I’m too impatient though,” he sighs, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as he reaches past you, arms hugging your sides while he places the package in your hands.

It’s oblong and light.

You’re glad, if nothing else, that he’s not directly facing you to see your uneasy facial expression. Slowly, with the tip of your finger, you begin to peel back the wrapping paper.

White bristles and bright green plastic greet you beneath it.

A toothbrush.

“Be my girlfriend,” Oliver whispers, nose brushing against your cheek. 

You choke out a laugh as your heart swoops. “You got me a toothbrush?”

Girlfriend.

“You would have thought jewelry was a tacky way to ask,” he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You tilt your face into the kiss, murmuring against his mouth, “I didn’t get you anything.”

You almost did.

Several times, actually.

But nothing screams casual hookup gone rogue like a fucking Christmas present—and that was the last thing you wanted him to think.

And yet—

Oliver shrugs, spinning you around and cupping your face, the toothbrush still clutched in your hands. “You’re my gift.”

There’s no hiding the ridiculous smile that creeps across your face as he kisses you, tugging you with him as he walks backward into the couch, pulling you into his lap.

His lips are warm and soft as his mouth engulfs yours, kissing you in a way that you know now is far too familiar to be casual. Far too easy and gentle and intimate as he cups the back of your head and feathers a thumb against your hip bone and nips your bottom lip and laughs and—

He stops kissing you and looks at you seriously. “Oh, I also got you that dough mixer you kept looking at videos of when we were laying in bed that one night, but it’s going to be late because of the storm. I don’t want you to think I actually only got you a toothbrush.”

You blink at him.

“Oliver!”

He grins. “What?”

“I’m leaving right now to get you a gift,” you grouse, trying to hop out of his lap.

The room spins as he lifts you up, and you find yourself caged in beneath him on the couch.

“We’re snowed in,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“I’ll walk,” you frown.

“Nope,” he counters, hands sliding to pin your wrists above your head. “I’ve got the perfect gift already. Have you met my girlfriend yet?”

He reaches down into his pocket to pull out his phone, and you’re met with a photo of you laughing that you hadn’t even realized he took.

And it’s his wallpaper, for fuck’s sake.

Girlfriend.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs as he puts down his phone and cups your face, lips brushing against yours. “And smart.” Kiss. “And funny.” Kiss. “And—”

“I didn’t say yes.” 

Oliver stills, blinking several times as he looks down at you with a serious expression.

You roll your eyes as you thread your fingers in his hair and tug his mouth back down against yours.

“Yes.”

A pleased sound of satisfaction rumbles in his throat as his mouth skirts away from your lips, leaving a chaotic, hot, messy trail of kisses across your face, down your neck, across your collarbone—

The smoke alarm goes off somewhere in the kitchen.

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

noise complaints (part 2)

A/N: Fine you gay people win. Here’s part two… sorry if it’s horrible, I am NOT a writer and I did NOT spellcheck this. Also I now realize she was technically going by Agnes at the time bc she was still under the spell when she was in her cop era… too lazy late to fix it ❤️

Summary: After Agatha finds you and Rio outside of the party she busted surrounded by two guys from your high school, she feels she has a few lessons to teach you two. (Reading part one is highly suggested!)

Warnings: smut, strap-on use, degradation and praise, vouyerism, impact play, fingering, oral, punishment, mean!Agatha, gunplay if you squint and spin three times, orgasm denial, bondage, masturbation, Rio being too bratty for her own good, use of “Y/N”, I don’t know if I can be more specific than this, it’s filth!

Pairing: Older!Cop!Dom!Agatha x Younger!Sub!R x Brat!Sub!Rio

NSFW below the cut MDNI!

After the cruel scolding that was sure to be only the beginning of the harsh words you and Rio would face that night, Agatha drags the two of you back to her patrol car by your wrists. You stumbled over your feet, trying your hardest to keep up with your furious girlfriend; Meanwhile Rio dragged her feet along reluctantly, trying desperately to keep up her careless, tough exterior and get a rise out of the cop.

Rio is thrown into the passenger side of the car, her hair nearly caught in the door as Agatha slams it, leading you towards the back door.

“At least one of my sluts is eager to please… Keep it up and maybe you can get what you want tonight.” She shouts the last part, addressing you, but directing the comment towards your brattier counterpart, who was now fidgeting in the front seat.

Agatha gets in the car, starting it up and taking off on the short ride back to your shared home. Rio’s placement in the front of the car was meant to keep her in check, keep her in Agatha’s direct line of vision and in close reach for reprimand. Rio had different ideas of how to use her forced proximity.

Your older girlfriend’s breathing had just reached some sort of equilibrium, no longer audibly seething through her breaths alone, when Rio reached over the console and slid her hand into Agatha’s lap. Much to your horror, Agatha just laughs.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, doll. You have five seconds to take your hand and keep it to yourself before I decide you’ll be sleeping in the guest room for the next week.” Rio, of course, waits until the very end of those five seconds before dragging her hand back across Agatha’s lap, making sure to brush her covered core ever-so-slightly before bringing it back to her side of the console to pout. You shudder under the reflection of Agatha’s hooded gaze in the rear view mirror as she grinds her teeth down against each other in a fiery frustration.

The silence and tension grows more and more palpable as the drive comes to an end when Agatha throws the cruiser into park at the top of your driveway, right next to Rio’s precious bike. She wasn’t exactly being careful to swerve away from it.

Before you could even think of reaching for your door handle, it was thrown open and you and Rio were being forced into the home. You were at the front, being pushed into the house by Agatha’s right hand, which was tangled in your hair and gripping it into a ponytail. Rio was being dragged in the back by Agatha’s tight grip on her ear. If you didn’t know better, you’d be giggling at the way the slightly taller girl resembled a misbehaving child being scolded by her upset mother. If Rio knew better, she wouldn’t have acted like a misbehaving child.

It was clearly too late for this when Agatha practically tossed you two into the house, all in the same manner as you’d seen her do with her bags after a long day at work. She ran her tongue between her top teeth and her top lip as she looked you and your girlfriend up and down, almost as if deciding between a library of options for how to deal with the two of you.

“Both of you, go to my room now and be ready for me in the next minute… Y/N, pick something pretty out from my drawer, would you, hun?” With that, she had decided.

As you and Rio made your way into your bedroom and Rio made her way to the edge of the bed, you slid the drawer open and instinctively grabbed your favorite from the assortment, a small and quiet but powerful bullet that Agatha could control from her phone. You were hoping she’d use it on you again, but there was no point in asking once she walked in, because it would almost surely earn you the exact opposite.

She walks in to find you sitting on your heels at the same spot at the edge of the bed where Rio sat, manspreading and fidgeting with the seam on her shirt. She takes the small purple toy from your hands and kisses the top of your head, a chillingly gentle gesture in contrast with her bubbling anger that night. Her hand slips from the side of your jaw to the underside of your chin, tilting your head up just a bit so that you were looking up and meeting her eyes with your own. “Such a good choice, sweet girl.”

She then turns to Rio, who hasn’t yet given up her false tough demeanor. “Kiss her. How you were before I walked in early tonight. Pretend I’m not even here, and God help you if you hold back even the slightest bit.” With that, she sat down in the large armchair directly in the eye line from where you sat.

Rio smiles slyly and slides her hands into the back of your head, tangling her digits in your hair as she meets your lips with her own. Your own hands, shaking, find her hips as she deepens the kiss and straddles you as you’re still sitting on your knees with rigid posture that reflects your nervousness outwardly. When you finally melt into her touch the slightest bit, losing yourself in her confident dominance, you hear Agatha stand and are suddenly enveloped in her shadow as Rio is yanking away from you.

Or rather, being yanked away. You note Agatha’s grip around Rio’s waves as she speaks in an even more gravely voice than usual, “That was your final chance to prove yourself as something more than a greedy bitch. Get in the chair.”

She swallows, devoid of any of the dominance from seconds prior, and climbs into the chair Agatha had just risen from. The latter takes Rio’s seat next to you, but lifts you onto her lap with your right leg slotted between her own, your center falling onto the top of her right thigh. Once you could see clearly again as the rush of her rough fingers around your waist simmered the smallest bit, you realized you were sitting on something… hard? and let out an involuntary whisper.

Agatha looks down at where your legs meet and then back at you, grinning like the devil, as Rio writhes in her seat. Agatha immediately clocks the movement from over your shoulder. “If you ever want me to make you come again, you’ll sit still and enjoy the show I’m so generously giving you after your disgusting displays tonight.” Rio reluctantly complies. She returns her attention to you, now digging her fingers into your hips with bruising force, and guides you ever-so-slightly back and forth against the pressure below you. “Agatha?” you breathe out.

“Yeah, angel?” The title almost makes you forget what was supposed to follow your initial words. The hardness below you reminds you quickly. “Are you… did you wear the strap to work?” you nearly whisper, the question barely audible to your other girlfriend, who sat still now and held onto every word from you and the woman below you uttered. “No, baby, try again.”

It seems as if all the blood in your body rushes to your face as you realize that what you were grinding down onto wasn’t the strap you’d been mercilessly filled with time after time, but her patrol weapon. It was mind-blowingly filthy and embarrassing to you, which brought both Agatha and Rio more pleasure than any other act the three of you had carried out together could. “Keep moving those pretty hips, hun. Don’t shy away from being a slut now, it’s a little too late for that.” You bit your lip hard enough to taste the same metallic tang from before you left the same room earlier that night as you hid your blushing face in the crook of the cop’s neck.

“Hey, come back, angel, I’ve got a question for you.” You look up reluctantly, dreading the eye contact you knew she would demand as you spoke. “Yes ma’am.” She chuckled lowly at this, “Oh, what, now you wanna be good for me? Nice try. What I was wondering…. was if you think our greedy girl over there should get to join us.” You look over your shoulder at the desperate woman, your eyes glossing over at the sight of her thighs pressed together so tightly they could surely suffocate you if your head found its way between them as it so often did. You turn back to Agatha and offer only a nod, not trusting your breath to stay loyal to you.

Agatha curled a finger, beckoning your girlfriend over and watching as she scrambled to the bed. “Now, Y/N, do you think I should use this” she held up the toy you’d previously picked out from her collection “on Rio here? Think it’d be fun to see her crumble under the stimulation and forget all about her little stone-cold act?” You nodded quicker than you knew possible. “No, I need words.” You swallow and breathe in shakily, hips still moving on their own accord. “Yes. Please, wanna see.” She just smiles and lifts you off of her leg as she readies her attention on the other girl.

“I think she has to earn it.”

Ok guys this was like… part 1.5, the first half of part 2 of the OG post. The rest of the warnings will apply to the next part if they weren’t in this one, and I’m hoping to have that one out like the middle of next week! LMK what yall wanna see in the next part beside what I have planned :)

Also for those who wanted to be tagged: @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wandaslittlelove @babybeeelle @believe-in-magic13 @reeselov3salexvause @ahintofchaos @girlwithissuesworld @lovelyy-moonlight @teenybean @jorddddddddd

[nadvs]

home before dark (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since your kiss. After a moment of tense silence, he collected himself and you headed back to the party. He found his friends. You found yours.

It’s been over an hour, the sun now nestled below the horizon, and you keep catching his eye in the dark, crowded backyard. You remind yourself that his gaze is so persistently on you due to your arrangement. He’s looking out for you. That’s all.

But he didn’t have to kiss you. He could have opted for something less… intense. Because now your mind won’t stop repeating it and everything that lead up to it. Stoic, unattached, cold Rafe cried. Actually cried. And then he kissed you so gently that your head still feels like it’s spinning.

You look at him again from across the yard. He’s surrounded by the same guys he always hangs out with, but for once, you can see just how lonely he actually looks.

It hurts to think about how he considers you to be the only person who cares about him - you, a reminder of the worst thing that happened to him.

What about his friends? Or his family? Do they all neglect him, unwilling to see past his hard exterior?

When Rafe trails your car to your house after the party, it’s a few minutes past midnight and his body is already feeling the itch for more coke. It’s the best way to numb everything. But he can’t afford to. Not when he’s taking care of you. Not when you looked at him the way you did when you said he could quit.

You glance up every so often to see Rafe in the frame of your rearview mirror, his bike rumbling behind you, his headlight bright.

You reach your home, relieved to see that the mailbox is closed, and pull into the driveway.

After you both come through the front door, you arm the security system, then turn to face him.

“Do you want to take the guest bed?” you ask, having rehearsed it in the car. “Or just sleep in my room again?”

Rafe doesn’t make much eye contact with you. He’s still embarrassed.

“A distraction would be good,” he admits. He can’t fall asleep alone, sober, with nothing but his own mind replaying the humiliation of crying in front of you.

“So, boring you to sleep was a smart idea?” you ask with a small smile. Knowing you’re helping him, even in this silly little way, is gratifying considering how much he’s helping you.

Rafe huffs amusedly, tilting his head. You make your way up the stairs and he follows, chewing on his lip before he can say his next words. The guilt is killing him. Especially when you have nothing but patience and compassion for him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to…” He stops in the hallway, wanting to get this out before he gets ready for bed. “This morning… I shouldn’t have left like that.”

Rafe’s lids are low and he shuffles in place, like this is the first apology he’s ever given someone and he’s not sure if he’s doing it right.

The way he left your home was abrupt. His tone was harsh. But it was because you did the only thing you’re not supposed to do. You brought up the past. And you can’t blame him.

You decide to try to dismiss the tension between you.

“Couples fight,” you joke. “It’s okay.”

Rafe nods, his gaze still on the floor. You realize right behind him, up on the wall, hangs the photo of you and him and your mothers. His smile used to be so bright.

He steps towards the guest room and when he closes the door behind him, you take the photo off the wall and shove the frame in your dresser. You’ll do anything you can to protect him from any and every reminder.

When Rafe enters your dark bedroom, you nervously take a breath before you speak.

“You can just sleep up here again if you want,” you say. “The floor’s probably not that comfortable.”

“Sure,” he says, hoping he sounds indifferent even though he’s the farthest thing from it.

Kissing you was a thrill and just the thought of sleeping next to you makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire. Being close to you is like its own drug and he can’t get enough.

You smell minty toothpaste as Rafe settles next to you in bed. You stay on your side, faced away from him, as he lies on his back, resting a hand on his stomach.

“I’m trying to think of a boring story,” you say. You shake your head to yourself. “This is weird.”

“Weird?” he echoes, on edge that you’re regretting inviting him to sleep next to you.

“Yeah,” you admit. “My ex used to tell me that I talk too much. I’m still getting used to the idea that someone actually wants to hear me ramble.“

“He said that to you?” Rafe turns his head, looking at your silhouette in the dark.

You stare ahead, eyelids fluttering. It’s a hard subject, but you almost feel like you owe it to him. He was so vulnerable earlier tonight. You want to balance the scales.

“All the time,” you recall. The thought of that idiot berating you ignites rage in his core.

“It was like a power play or something,” you continue. “I think he liked to say things just to hurt me, then get me to forgive him. I… gave him too many chances. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to get me back.”

“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” Rafe says before even a second can pass.

You breathe out slowly. You know he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say. “I guess it’s easier to feel like I’m responsible in some way because then I’m not just a victim.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, a gap slowly opening.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve that.” The gap closes and your heart skips a beat. Rafe isn’t the type to say something just to say it. You know he really thinks that.

“Thank you.” You pick at a string on your duvet cover. Expecting him to open up is a losing game, but it’s one you can’t stop playing. “Have you been… in a relationship?”

You’ve never seen Rafe with a girl for longer than the duration of a party. But maybe he kept his commitments under wraps. He’s an expert at hiding from the world.

“No,” he says with a cynical chuckle. He’s hooked up loads of times. But a relationship? Not even close.

“Why not?” you ask. Despite his scary reputation, Rafe’s undeniably attractive. And some girls like the scary thing. Maybe you would if you didn’t know there was nothing to be scared of.

“Just haven’t,” Rafe answers. You stifle a sigh. It was a matter of time before he closed up again.

“So, um, I can talk about my day?” you offer. “You fell asleep to that last night. I’ll try not to be offended again.”

Rafe smirks at your joke and taps his fingers against his stomach. You never push him to talk. He appreciates it.

Brushing you off is a reflex. He doesn’t want it to be. You clearly spent more than enough time dealing with a jerk and he doesn’t need to be one to you, too. So, he decides to answer your question. Honestly, this time.

“I think it’s because I… just…” he begins, trying not to stammer, “I can’t stop how fast my thoughts are sometimes. I can’t control how mad I get. There’s no point in getting serious with a girl because the second she hears what my head sounds like, she’ll bail.”

The more you learn about who Rafe is today, the more it hurts. Does he think there’s nothing worth loving in him? That everyone will abandon him?

“The right girl won’t,” you say into the dark. “She’ll want to hear it all.” You hear Rafe chuckle in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically. His mind is a place of high highs and lower lows. He can hardly survive it himself. He couldn’t expect someone else to.

“It’s true.” You’d be that girl if he’d let you. But your very existence plagues him. You’ll never be that girl for him and he’ll never want you to be.

“I know people call me a psycho. They’re not far off,” he admits.

“You’re not that.” You don’t even want to say the word. “If you were, you would’ve laughed in my face when I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. But you didn’t. You’re here.”

You feel Rafe shift his weight. His back is to yours now.

“So, your day?” he says.

He’s done talking. And even though you’d like him to share his thoughts with you until sunrise, you’re relieved you actually got somewhere with him. Bit by bit, he’s baring his soul to you, and it’s just as gentle as you remember.

You tell Rafe about your time at the mall today, once again going into meaningless details just to make the story drag.

His heart is hammering in his ears as he lies in your bed, eyes shut, listening to you speak. He’s never admitted to anyone why he’s never wanted a girlfriend. Not even to his closest friends. If they ever asked, he’d say he wasn’t into commitment.

He can’t believe now that he said it out loud, it was to the one person he thought he’d spend the rest of his life avoiding.

Again, Rafe isn’t in bed when you wake up. You find him downstairs, waiting for you just like yesterday.

Before you lock the door behind him, he offers you a simple bye. It’s a reminder that even though he cried in front of you and kissed you and revealed why he won’t let anyone in, you’re still being kept at a distance.

It’ll be a hot day, so you make plans with friends to have lunch at the country club and spend the afternoon by the outdoor pool.

When you get to the pool deck and recline in a lounger, you notice a lot of other Kooks had the same idea today. Scattered along the poolside are groups of a lot of the people you see at parties, drinking and soaking in the scorching sun.

You’re instinctually looking for Rafe. When you spot him on the other side of the pool, sitting in a chair identical to yours, you immediately feel at ease.

It’s probably not a good idea to let your eyes linger on his toned, bare chest. But you do.

You wonder what these days will look like when all this is over and Ty stops pursuing you. Will you go back to seeing Rafe at rowdy parties and spontaneous events like these, hoping he’s okay, wishing you could talk to him but knowing he’ll treat you like a stranger?

You look away. Dwelling on this will only make you sad.

Later in the afternoon, you’re leaning back in your chair under the sun, beads of pool water sprinkled over your skin. You’ve been swimming with your friends most of the day, calm because Rafe is so close by.

Your eyes are closed as you relax in the sun. But then you hear his laugh. Ty’s laugh.

You stiffen immediately, sitting up straight, eyes darting around to match the nauseating sound to the face. Your heart is racing, playing back everything that’s happened in the past few days.

The creepy letter. The footsteps in front of your door. The way he mocked you on the beach, asking what you’ll do when Rafe’s not around to protect you.

“You okay?” your friend asks.

“Did you see...” you begin. You can’t waste another second. You don’t even grab your towel when you stand up.

You walk along the crowded pool, heading straight for Rafe.

When he sees you rushing over, your head frantically whirling to look behind you with every couple of steps you take, his body is injected with a blazing urgency.

Rafe swiftly rises from his seat, leaving his friends to watch him in confusion for leaving the conversation so suddenly.

He helps seal the distance between you and once you’re close enough, he takes your hand and leads you to the edge of the pool deck by an uninhabited rental booth.

You round the wall, earning privacy. Your bodies meet and you yield to him just like you did to your instincts, pressing your cheek against his chest and circling your arms around his torso.

Rafe hugs you back. Tightly. His skin is warm, not a drop of water on him, a sharp contrast to the clamminess clinging onto your skin and bathing suit.

“What happened?” he murmurs. He notices how fast your shoulders are skittering. You’re shaking against him.

“I thought I heard him,” you say. Now, thankfully, all you can hear are the thumps of Rafe’s heart over the roar of swarms of people swimming and sunbathing. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Rafe knows the feeling. He envelops you tighter. He hasn’t used his body to hold somebody like this… ever. He’s used to using it to inflict harm. To hurt. So why does this feel so natural?

“Do you want me to see if he’s here or do you want me to stay?” he asks.

“Stay,” you reply. You always wanted him to stay. His big arms remain wrapped around you, chipping away at the fear you rushed over here with.

Your bodies are curved into each other, his warmth radiating off of him. Rafe hasn’t left the poolside all day. He couldn’t risk a distraction. He needed to be there in case something happened to you. And something did.

And feeling you settle in his arms, the way your trembles start to disappear and your breath grows deeper, is worth it. He’d do anything to keep you safe. Anything.

Eventually, once your stress has become much more bearable, you pull back. Rafe’s hard blue eyes sweep over your face.

“I won’t let him near you, alright?” he says. His hands drag up to your face, palms pressed at your cheeks. You nod with wide, doleful eyes.

You exist in this moment together, like you did in your bed after your nightmare, like you did when you were alone on the beach last night, touching even though there’s nobody around to fool.

Then, Rafe pulls his hands off of you and once again, tension wedges its way between you. He steps back. So do you.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while?” he says gruffly, his stare on the ground now.

“Just you?” you ask. The hope in your voice floods him with sadness. Does the thought of being with his friends upset you that much?

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” you echo.

Your bare arms are an inch from touching as you sit together on the shallow edge of the pool, your legs dangling over in the water.

“I don’t even want to look if he’s here,” you confess, looking down at your thighs pressed against the concrete next to Rafe’s.

“I will,” he says. You see him look up from the corner of your eye. After a moment, he shakes his head. “He’s not.”

“Okay,” you breathe. It’s odd that Ty hasn’t been around. Maybe Rafe really did scare him off for good. “Thanks.”

You’d been in this pool as kids a few times. Not nearly as much as you were on the beach behind his house, but a few summer days, Rafe’s mom would bring you and her children here.

He was always protective of his sisters. You remember his boyish voice calling for his mom whenever Sarah started wading towards the deep end. Now, any time you see him with his sister, they’re snapping at each other.

Again, your mind spirals to who Rafe would be if he never suffered such a terrible loss. He’d probably be close to his siblings, instead of pushing everyone away.

You glance at him, taking in his blue eyes and freckled skin in the sun, and try to smile. But you can’t. A piece of your heart will always be missing because of what happened to him.

When you join your friends, the bright mood you arrived at the club with is gone.

You take a long, hot shower as soon as you’re home, deciding you’ll have a night in tonight. The day was too heavy to try to have any fun.

It’s nearly ten when you settle in front of the tv under a blanket. Just so Rafe doesn’t worry about you not showing up at your mutual friend’s party, you text him: i’m staying in tonight. don’t worry if you get here late. just call me and i’ll let you in.

He calls you within a minute.

“Hello?”

“Did something happen?” Rafe asks. He doesn’t have to be specific - he’s asking if Ty found a way to scare you again.

“No, I’m… just not in a partying mood,” you respond.

“Are you alone?”

You curl up under your blanket, hooking an arm around your legs.

“Yes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he asks, “Do you want to be?”

“No,” you admit.

You remotely open the gate when Rafe arrives minutes later, watching him come up the driveway on his motorcycle through the window.

When he settles on the other end of the couch in your living room, he snorts a laugh.

“Really?” he asks once he sees what’s on the screen.

“Be nice,” you quip. “It’s my comfort film.”

“Still?”

Your heart is in your throat. He remembers. You made him watch it with you once, years ago. You both talked through most of it.

“That’s the thing about comfort films, Rafe,” you reply. “They don’t change.”

He stretches his arms along the armrest and back of the couch, taking up all the space he wants to. He grew up to be so tall and big and powerful.

“Defensive,” he responds. You roll your eyes and smile.

As the movie continues, Rafe watches you and the only word he could use to describe how you look curled up on the couch is cute. His body reacted to your kiss, to the way your curves felt when you pressed up against him in that hug, because of course it did, but it’s more than that.

You’re pretty to him in the most innocent way and it’s like he’s a boy again, confused about how he could be so nervous around someone yet still want to be with them nonstop.

This is getting harder. He’s growing attached and he knows he shouldn’t for both of your sakes. Because you can both try to pretend you don’t have a history, but you do. It follows you around. You can’t outrun it.

“I can find something else to watch if you want,” you say. He tears his eyes off of you before you catch him staring.

“It’s fine,” he says. You nod and let yourself enjoy his company, even though it’s fleeting.

You sit up suddenly when you realize you dozed off. Your eyes find Rafe, who’s smirking at you.

“How long was I out?” you ask.

“How good can a movie be if you fall asleep?” he teases. You playfully nudge his knee with your foot. “Like, ten minutes. Not long.”

“I’m more tired than I thought,” you say.

“Probably from staying up late to talk,” Rafe replies.

“The price I pay for a bodyguard,” you say with a laugh. You rub your eyes. “Are you ready for bed?”

The casual way you ask the question in your fatigue almost makes him dizzy. It makes you sound like you’re a real couple.

Rafe trails you up the stairs and before he turns to change into his pajamas in the guest room, the gap in the wall of photos is glaringly obvious. You removed the framed picture of his mother.

“You took it down,” he says without thinking. He feels the comedown hitting him. Another low his mind is racing through.

The hallway is dim and you’re staring at his back now. You twist your hands together, jittery, like you’re about to take a test and saying one wrong thing will fail you.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “You don’t like reminders, right?”

Rafe’s body feels like it weighs a million pounds. He’s stuck. Heavy.

“Is that…” He shakes his head to himself. “Is that bad?”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” he says. It’s like pulling teeth, giving a voice to the thoughts that he’s always running away from.

“Not wanting reminders isn’t bad,” you say behind him. “If that’s what you mean.”

You feel like you’ve been wrung out. You’re a reminder. You step towards him, even though he’s facing away from you. You can’t help but want to touch him again.

When Rafe feels your hand cup his, he lets out a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t be trying to forget her,” he says. Fuck. Now that he’s started talking, it’s like he can’t stop. Why can’t he stop?

Your mind swirls as if you’re in a dream. He’s actually talking about his mom. You continue to stare at his back.

“I don’t think you are,” you whisper.

“How would you know?” he mutters sharply.

It’s a defence mechanism. You can tell. He’s trying to push you away. You won’t let him.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say. “But I think what you’re really trying to forget is how bad it hurts. Am I right?”

Rafe’s chest rises and falls with rough, shallow jolts. His heart pounds. His eyes wander over the space where the photo was.

“The last time I…” He’s unable to stop his rushed words. “The last time I had a chance to tell her, I didn’t. I just… I didn’t.”

“Tell her what?”

“That I loved her.”

Your throat goes dry.

“She knew,” you say. You grip his hand tighter. “Of course she knew.”

“She said it and I - I just didn’t say it back,” he stammers. “We hit the wall so hard and she - I know now that she knew she wasn’t going to make it. That’s why she told me she loved me. I didn’t say it back.”

Your heart thrashes against your ribs and your stomach turns with agony.

“Oh, my God. Were you…” you whisper. “Rafe, were you in the car?”

His eyes squeeze shut. He can still hear his mother asking are you okay? He answered yes and she said thank God, I love you and then he saw the way she was slumped over the steering wheel from where he sat in the backseat and he couldn’t speak from fear and he stopped believing in a God the second he heard her take her last breath.

That’s when he found his voice. He started screaming for her to wake up. She never did. It birthed a burning, merciless anger deep inside him that controls him to this day.

The last thing his mother did was make sure he knew he was loved. And he didn’t say it back.

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You heard very little about the accident. It was stormy. She hit a freeway barrier. She died before the ambulance arrived. Nobody ever went into any more detail and you didn’t want them to.

There’s a gaping hole in your chest. Rafe was there when she died. He was with her. You always wondered where he was when he learned she passed away. How he was told the horrifying news.

But nobody had to tell him. Your best friend watched his world end right in front of him, leaving him with pain he has been running from since.

He wriggles out of your grip. Speaking to you is making him live through it again. And if he keeps talking, he’ll say something he regrets.

“I’ll sleep on my own tonight,” he says, voice thin. You watch him disappear into the guest room.

You rush to your bedroom and shut the door so he doesn’t hear the heavy sobs that start to erupt out of you.

You pace around the room, aching from the inside out. Right now, you don’t picture Rafe as the man he is, protecting you, carrying a gun. You picture the boy. At the beach. In the car. At the funeral.

Like a tide reaching a shore, you gravitate towards him. If he rejects you, you can take it. But you can’t handle the thought of him needing someone and you not being there.

Rafe is sitting at the edge of the guest bed when you turn the door handle. You close the distance and sit beside him, wrapping your arms beneath his, tight around his body.

“You can tell me to go away,” you whisper against his back. “I promise I will if you want me to.”

You feel his chest filling and contracting with his harsh breaths. He hunches over, head in his hands.

“Go away,” he mutters. Just like when he was a kid. His voice is deeper now, but his words are the same.

The pain is sharp. It takes everything in you to let go of him. But you do. For what feels like the thousandth time, he denies you a place in his healing, the only thing you’ve ever truly wanted from him.

The tears welling in his eyes fall when he hears the door shut behind you. He can’t do this. He can’t relive it. He can’t disappoint you. He can’t open up all the way and tell you everything because if he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself or put himself back together.

You lie in bed, your chest hurting so bad that you’re not sure it’ll ever get better. It’s like for every step you take forward with Rafe, you take two back.

He held you, kept you from a panic attack today, but you don’t possess whatever it is you need to help him. He can keep you afloat, but you can’t return the favor.

He knows you care about him. He cried about it last night. Evidently, what you offer is still not enough.

He’s just down the hall, so close but at a distance. You pull up your duvet and wish he were beside you, falling asleep to the sound of your rambling.

But no amount of wishing for anything can make it come true. If there’s anything you’ve learned from your broken friendship with Rafe, it’s that.

(part six)

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[anthonyjohns609]

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[sleepyjuice]

30 maybe with sone angst and hurt/comfort??

warnings: description of a panic attack, mention of abuse, mentions of l*ke maybank

note: i combined these two asks together, hope that’s okay!

“JJ, just talk to me, please, baby.” You pleaded with your boyfriend.

He was a mess, pacing around your bedroom relentlessly, breathing heavy and ragged as he ran his fingers roughly through his hair, then put his hat back on, then took it off again and so on and so forth.

You and JJ had spent the majority of the day together until he had to run home to “handle some business” according to him.

There was nothing you hated more than knowing JJ was in the same room as his father. It made you sick, but you had to respect his decisions when it came to that.

He had only been home for a total of about twenty minutes before he was calling you, the sound of thick wind and the grumble of his dirt bike filling the speaker as he asked, “can I come over?”

Your answer went without saying.

You quickly ushered him to your bedroom once he arrived at your house, sitting him down on the foot of your bed as you sat behind him. But he was restless, immediately standing up and pacing.

That led you to now. You never wanted to push him to talk about his dad unless he brought it up first. It was something he buried so deep inside of him and it was rare that his emotions regarding the matter ever truly rose to the surface.

“God, I just— fuck!” He kicked a shoe that was laying on the floor, quickly looking in your direction to see if he had startled you. He didn’t.

You would let him vent if he decided that’s what he wanted to do, and if he didn’t, that was also okay. After being with JJ as long as you have been, you quickly learned that what he truly needs is just the comfort of his loved ones.

“I know, Jay, I know.” You spoke softly from your spot on the bed, sitting criss cross as you watched him helplessly.

The only semi good thing about this encounter with his dad was that you didn’t notice any new marks or bruises on his skin. It must have just been a conversation that went sour. You were just glad he wasn’t physically hurt again.

“I don’t… Baby, I don’t know what to do when I feel this way. I’m scared.” He panted, kneeling down in front of you now, his hands resting on your thighs, gripping onto them for dear life as if you could slip away at any moment.

“And that’s okay, you’re here and you’re safe, yeah? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I just need you to breathe for me.” You placed your hands on top of his, giving them a gentle squeeze as you began to breathe deeply, hoping he would follow.

His glossy eyes studied yours for a few moments, swallowing hard before clearing his throat and inhaling shakily, trying to match his breathing with yours.

You nodded in encouragement, his tight grip on your thighs loosening ever so slightly as his breathing slowed somewhat, his heart rate slowly falling back to a semi normal rhythm.

“I just can’t— Can’t find the right…words.” He spoke slowly, squeezing his eyes shut as he racked his brain for the words to describe the way he felt. It was as if his heart struggled to communicate with his brain and his brain wouldn’t communicate with his voice. It frustrated him beyond belief and that was a part of why he worked himself up so badly.

“And that’s okay. I know you’re hurting, you don’t need to try and explain if it’s too difficult. It’s just us now, I’m here however you need me to be.” You told him, watching as he took in your words and nodded, slowly standing up before crawling onto your bed and laying his head onto your lap, his arms wrapping around your lower waist.

You could see his shoulders drop, his guard dropping more and more as he allowed himself to feel safe in your presence.

“It’s never been this bad before.” He sighed, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“What do you mean?”

“The way I feel. My chest hurting and my mind spinning so hard that I don’t feel human, can’t even figure out how to properly speak and tell you how I feel.” He responded, his fingers playing gently with the bottom of your shirt.

“You just did.” You pointed out, wanting him to credit the fact that he was currently doing exactly what he said he couldn’t, explaining why he couldn’t talk about it.

“I guess, yeah.” He breathed, scooting up on the bed and pulling you down so you were laying with him now, his strong arms pulling you into his chest as he held you, keeping you as close as he possibly could.

“Thanks for, y’know.” He whispered quietly, knowing that if you could understand him when he was in the state he was in, you would understand exactly what he was thanking you for.

[polarisjisung]

MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN

synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms

wc: 1.1k pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship genre: fluff warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏) notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️

you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.

you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.

just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.

your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.

the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you

there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.

there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.

jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.

"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead

"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile

"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"

"you know it sung"

his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you

"well I'm here now"

jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back

"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head

you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist

"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple

jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes

there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside

you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much

like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm

"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show

"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes

"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation

"you're my girl, of course I do"

this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips

"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you

"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes

"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear

"my boyfriend"

"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him

"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence

"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"

somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.

despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head