#they are just so protective of each other

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤA GENTLEMANㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Robin Damian Wayne x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : When he have a puppy crush (obsession).

☆⁠ NOTES : Teenagers in love. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Damian had always been certain of one thing: he was superior to everyone around him. But when it came to you, something shifted in him. He didn’t understand it at first—it was something unfamiliar, something that made his heart race in ways that made him deeply uncomfortable. He would never admit it, of course, but there was no denying the way his eyes lingered on you when you weren’t looking.

From the moment he noticed you in class, you were a source of obsession. Not just because you were incredibly intelligent—far more than most people gave you credit for—but because you were different. You weren’t intimidated by him like everyone else. You didn’t flinch when he looked at you with his piercing eyes, and worst of all, you were kind to him. You smiled at him, genuinely, and asked him how his day was when no one else did.

At first, Damian didn't know how to process it. He hated how much he cared about what you thought. He hated how his chest tightened whenever he saw you laughing with friends or when your eyes briefly met his from across the room. He couldn't help but become... protective. Territorial, even.

His obsession grew, but it wasn’t obvious to you. To you, he was just the enigmatic, brooding boy who sat at the back of the class and barely spoke. To everyone else, he was the unsmiling prodigy who made the rest of Gotham's elite children seem inferior. But to him, you were different. You weren't afraid to speak to him, to challenge him, even when you didn't know his full story.

He’d sneak glances at you when you weren’t paying attention, his gaze lingering for just a second too long. When you walked into a room, his eyes would immediately track your every movement. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but every time you laughed—whether it was at something funny or just something absurd—his heart would pound. Every soft word you spoke, every time you brushed your hair behind your ear, or when you studied so intently in class, it drove him wild. He felt... protective. Possessive, even. But mostly, he felt a desperate need to be the one you relied on, the one you turned to.

He never had a normal crush before. His emotions were all twisted up, almost like he was terrified of it, yet drawn to it. His pride kept him from ever admitting how much he cared, but his actions always betrayed him. If anyone made the mistake of speaking to you for too long, or worse, making you laugh too much, they’d feel the weight of his glare. He didn’t trust anyone around you, didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, use you, break you like so many others had tried with him.

If you ever had a problem, Damian would be the first to solve it. He didn’t need to be asked. He noticed the little things about you—the way you tapped your pencil when you were nervous, the way you’d tug at your sleeves when you were stressed. He memorized them all, cataloging each detail like an obsessed detective, all while maintaining that cold, stoic expression. But if you ever needed help, even just to ask for notes from a missed class, his voice would become so soft, so eager to please, that it would catch you off guard.

But he was never obvious. If you ever mentioned something in passing, a book you liked or a subject you were interested in, Damian would get it for you. It wasn’t that he thought you needed him—it was that he needed you to need him. He wanted to be the one you thought of when you needed something, even if he didn’t let you know just how far he would go for you.

He’d never say it out loud, but when you laughed at one of his rare jokes or smiled when he helped you with something, it felt like the whole world was aligned. The idea of you wanting him, of you seeing him as something more than just the brooding, serious boy who sat in the back of class, became his driving force. He’d stalk your social media in the dead of night, not to look for anything inappropriate, but just to see you—see your face, your thoughts, the things you liked.

Sometimes he’d catch himself imagining what it would be like to kiss you, to be the one who could make you smile when no one else could. He’d catch himself thinking about how he would protect you—how, in his mind, no one else was worthy of you. You were his. He’d never let anyone else take you from him.

If you ever caught him staring at you—caught him in one of his moments of weakness—he’d look away, almost defensively, as though nothing had ever happened. But deep down, Damian couldn’t hide the feeling that grew every time you were around. A feeling that, for the first time, made him question what it meant to be truly vulnerable.

You were his weakness. But that was something he could never let anyone see.

As time passed, Damian’s obsession with you only deepened, but so did his longing for your attention. His pride and sense of superiority might’ve prevented him from being straightforward, but that didn’t stop him from showing his affection in subtle ways. Every once in a while, when you weren’t looking, he’d steal a quick glance at you, his eyes softening, as if savoring the moments when you were close.

It was the small things that made his heart race—like when you’d accidentally brush his hand as you passed him a pencil or when you’d ask him for help on a particularly difficult assignment. The way your voice sounded when you said his name, the way your eyes sparkled when you were excited about something—Damian didn’t even realize how much it was affecting him until it was too late.

One day, during lunch, you walked up to him at his usual spot by the wall, the one he always sat at, trying to be as unnoticed as possible. “Hey, Damian,” you said, a little shy, “can I borrow your notes from last week’s class?”

Damian looked up at you, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. The way your hair fell over your shoulder, the way your eyes sparkled under the soft glow of the cafeteria lights—it was almost too much for him to handle. He had to force himself not to let his emotions show.

Without a word, he handed you his notebook, his fingers brushing against yours for just a second. He didn’t pull away, though—he lingered, just a little longer than necessary. His eyes met yours, and for the first time in ages, a flicker of warmth passed across his usual cold, calculating gaze. He couldn’t help the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You… You’re welcome,” he muttered, trying to sound aloof. But there was an underlying softness in his tone, something you hadn’t heard before. It was the way he said it—like he was pleased to help you, like you mattered to him more than anyone else in that moment.

You smiled at him, making his heart stutter in his chest. It wasn’t a big smile, just a small, genuine curve of your lips, but to Damian, it was everything. It felt like the world had shifted into place.

“Thanks, Damian. You’re a lifesaver,” you said, eyes lighting up with appreciation.

His chest tightened. “It’s nothing,” he replied quickly, not wanting to sound too eager, but his voice faltered just a bit.

You turned to leave, and as you walked away, you glanced back once, catching his eyes before he quickly looked away, face flushed. The moment he was sure you couldn’t see, he exhaled, the softest, happiest sigh escaping his lips. You’d never know it, but he had a soft spot for you—a part of him that didn’t want to be so cold and distant. A part of him that wanted to just be… normal for once.

From then on, he found himself watching you more than he should. Sometimes, he’d catch you looking at him, and he’d quickly avert his eyes, pretending like he hadn’t been staring. His heart would beat faster in his chest, and it almost made him angry that you could have this effect on him. But then, just as quickly, he’d find himself grinning, not able to help it. It was you—you made him feel things he hadn’t felt before.

It became a little routine: he’d see you in the halls, and sometimes, if you needed help with something, he’d find a way to be there. He’d stand a little too close to you when you talked, but it was never in a way that made you uncomfortable—it was more like he just wanted to be near you. He never told you why, of course.

One afternoon, while you were studying in the library, he walked in, glancing around until he spotted you, sitting by the window, scribbling away in your notebook. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you like that—so focused, so determined. You looked so… cute.

He hesitated for a second before walking up to you, his usual confident stride faltering just slightly. “Do you need any help?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though the nervous energy was palpable in his voice.

You looked up, surprised to see him standing there. “Oh, Damian! Um… yeah, I could use some help with this math problem,” you said, motioning to the page in front of you.

Damian sat down next to you, closer than necessary. His heart pounded as he explained the problem to you, his hand occasionally brushing yours as he pointed to different equations. He tried not to notice how his skin tingled each time it happened, or how every time you smiled and thanked him, it felt like the entire world brightened. He wasn’t used to feeling this way, this vulnerable, but somehow, he didn’t mind it when it was you.

“Got it?” he asked, his voice a little softer than usual as he watched you carefully.

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, I think I do. You make it sound so easy.”

Damian’s eyes softened, and for the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to smile back at you—genuinely, without any pretenses. It was a rare moment for him, but when it came to you, he didn’t feel the need to hide everything.

“Good. I’m glad,” he said, his voice almost tender.

You packed up your things, still smiling. As you stood, you gave him one last look, your eyes meeting his, and for a second, Damian felt like the entire world had come to a stop. There was something in your gaze—something that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to hide how he felt.

“Thanks again, Damian,” you said as you turned to leave, a soft wave following behind you.

And as you walked away, Damian stood there, watching you, a small, secret smile tugging at his lips. Maybe one day he’d tell you how he felt, but for now, he was content with these little moments. He was content with the idea that, for once in his life, someone saw him for who he truly was—not the perfect heir, not the deadly assassin, but the boy who was hopelessly in love with you.

For weeks, Damian wrestled with the idea of asking you out. It wasn’t like he was afraid of rejection—he was Damian Wayne. Fear was beneath him. No, this was different. This was you. The thought of putting his feelings into words, of making himself vulnerable to you, made his stomach twist in ways he didn’t like to acknowledge.

But at the same time… the thought of anyone else asking you out, of anyone else standing beside you, laughing with you, touching you—it was unbearable. The mere idea of it set his blood on fire. He had to make a move. You were his, even if you didn’t know it yet.

So, like everything else in his life, Damian devised a plan. It had to be perfect. He would not fail.

The first thing he did was eliminate all competition. Subtly, of course. Any boy who looked at you for too long? Suddenly, they found themselves tripping over conveniently placed obstacles. Anyone who flirted with you? They’d mysteriously lose their confidence after a single, bone-chilling glare from Damian. He made sure that by the time he approached you, no one else would dare think they had a chance.

Next, he had to find the right moment. Timing was everything. He refused to make a fool of himself by asking you out in a setting that wasn’t optimal. He studied your habits—when you were most relaxed, most receptive. He knew you liked to sit by the windows in the library during study hall. You liked the way the sunlight hit the pages of your books. That would be the perfect place.

The day of, he was completely composed—or at least, that’s what he told himself. He approached your table with his usual confident stride, pulling out the chair across from you without asking, as he often did.

You glanced up, surprised but not unwelcome to his presence. “Oh, hey, Damian.” You smiled at him, and his heart stuttered.

“Hello,” he replied, voice smooth, but slightly more clipped than usual. He was trying to keep his emotions in check. “I require your time this Saturday.”

You blinked. “Uh, what?”

Damian inhaled slowly. He could feel heat rising to his ears. His grip tightened on the book he brought, knuckles white. This was not how it was supposed to go. He had rehearsed this in his head a hundred times, but now, sitting in front of you, he felt like an idiot.

He quickly corrected himself. “What I mean is… I have taken the liberty of arranging a date for us this Saturday. I will pick you up at noon. Wear something suitable for the occasion.”

There. Perfect. No room for rejection. No awkward stammering. Tt. Why was he nervous in the first place?

You blinked again, then tilted your head, processing his words. “A date?”

“Yes,” Damian confirmed, keeping his tone even, as if this was the most logical thing in the world. Because to him, it was.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but then—then you smiled. And not just any smile. It was soft, warm, genuine. And it was for him.

“You’re asking me out on a date?” you clarified, amusement lacing your tone.

He bristled slightly at your wording. “Obviously.”

You chuckled, and for a moment, he thought his heart might actually explode. He had never wanted anything more than to be the reason you smiled like that every day.

“Well,” you said, propping your chin on your hand, watching him with something unreadable in your eyes, “you sure don’t waste time with subtlety, huh?”

“Subtlety is for those who lack certainty,” Damian replied smoothly, lifting his chin. “And I am certain.”

Your cheeks warmed, and that small reaction sent a rush of satisfaction through him. “Alright, Damian,” you finally said, “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

For the first time in his life, Damian stopped thinking. He just�� felt. A warmth spread through his chest, foreign yet addicting. He nodded once, as if sealing an unspoken pact.

“Good,” he said, voice steady, though his pulse was anything but. “I will text you the details.”

Then, without another word, he stood up and left. Just like that. Because if he stayed a second longer, he knew he would either start grinning like a fool or do something completely irrational, like kiss you right there in the middle of the library.

As soon as he rounded the corner, out of your sight, Damian exhaled, pressing a hand over his chest. His heart was hammering. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

But he didn’t care. Because you said yes.

And he will make sure it was a date you’d never forget.

The day of the date arrived. Damian had meticulously planned every detail, not leaving anything to chance. No, this wouldn’t be a “let’s grab coffee and see where things go” type of outing. This was his date with you.

He arrived at your house right on time. He didn’t need to check his watch—his internal sense of timing was precise, down to the minute. He knocked firmly on your door, his hand steady, even though he had spent the last few hours agonizing over the finer points of the evening in his mind. When you opened the door, his breath caught for a fraction of a second.

You stood there in a simple, yet elegant dress that was both understated and beautiful—just like you. The soft fabric clung to your figure just enough to highlight your natural grace, and the way your hair framed your face made his pulse quicken.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady, though his gaze softened as he took in your appearance.

You smiled, your eyes bright, and for a moment, he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. "I’m ready."

As you stepped out of the door and joined him, Damian offered his arm with a small, confident smile that was so different from his usual intense expression. He had plans for this evening, and he was determined to follow them through.

The car ride was smooth, quiet, but not uncomfortable. He drove with precision, each movement calculated and controlled, but there was something different in the air tonight. Something lighter. Every time he glanced over at you, you caught his eye, and he had to resist the urge to smile. It felt almost surreal—this quiet, sweet moment between the two of you. You’d spent time together before, but never like this.

You asked him where you were going, but he only gave you a cryptic smile. “You’ll see,” was all he said. You didn’t push him, curious to see where he had decided to take you.

Eventually, he pulled up to a small, secluded restaurant, one of Gotham’s more refined and hidden gems. It was quaint but elegant, with outdoor seating overlooking a picturesque garden. The soft light of lanterns danced around the patio, giving the place a warm, intimate atmosphere.

He opened the door for you as you stepped out, and offered his hand to you. You took it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of his touch seep through your skin. There was a kind of unspoken respect in the way he treated you. It wasn’t rushed or impatient—just an easy calmness that made you feel like you were the only one in the world to him.

Damian led you to your table, which was set for two, tucked away in a private corner, draped with ivy and soft fairy lights. It was the kind of place where the world around you seemed to fade away. As you sat down, he carefully pulled out your chair, ensuring you were comfortable, before taking his own seat across from you.

There was something so different about Damian tonight—something that made you realize, in that moment, just how special this date really was. He wasn’t like the other boys your age, with their offhand jokes or their self-absorbed chatter. No, Damian Wayne was something entirely different. He had this quiet intensity, but underneath that, a care that he wasn’t always quick to show.

The waiter came and Damian ordered for both of you with an air of confidence, speaking in fluent French, making you chuckle softly at how effortlessly he handled everything. But what made you laugh more was the glint of satisfaction in his eyes when he said, “The wine selection here is impeccable. I trust you’ll enjoy it.” It was like he was proud to share his tastes with you.

As you ate, the conversation flowed naturally. Damian asked about your interests, your thoughts on various books you had been reading, and he listened so intently, as though every word you spoke was a treasure to him. It wasn’t just idle talk—there was genuine curiosity in his voice. And when he did speak, it was always with purpose, never just to fill the silence.

You were beginning to see another side of him. A side that was almost... gentle.

You told him about your love for horses and how you dreamed of riding across the open fields someday. Damian’s eyes softened, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “I can take you to the stables at Wayne Manor sometime,” he said with an easy confidence. “There’s a ranch not far from the estate. You’d like it.”

You blinked, a little surprised. “You have horses?”

“Yes. I do,” he replied, his smile more sincere now, like the idea of sharing something personal with you had softened him further. “Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two. I’ve never been particularly good at it.”

That was the thing about Damian. He wasn’t afraid to show his flaws when it came to you. In fact, he seemed to crave your approval, though he’d never openly admit it. But it wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t needy. It was simply him, wanting you to know who he really was.

As the evening wore on, the conversation became more relaxed. You found yourself laughing more freely, your initial nerves completely gone, replaced by an easy comfort that felt like you had known him forever. Damian was still Damian—intense, sharp, but there was a tenderness to him tonight that made him seem... normal. Human. Not just the son of Bruce Wayne, not just the little assassin.

Finally, after dessert, the night began to wind down. Damian stood and offered his hand once more. You placed your hand in his, and together, you walked out into the garden. The soft hum of the night air and the occasional chirp of a cricket filled the silence between you.

As you approached his car, Damian paused. He turned to face you, and for the first time that evening, his expression was serious—not cold, but thoughtful, as if he were gathering his thoughts for something important.

“You’re...” He cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes for just a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. “I have enjoyed tonight... more than I anticipated.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “More than you anticipated? So you did expect it to be bad?”

He stiffened for a second, realizing the unintended implication. “No. That is not what I meant.” He hesitated, looking at you for a long, quiet moment. Then, in a voice quieter than before, almost soft, he added, “You’re... different. In a way I didn’t expect.”

You blinked, feeling the weight of his words settle in the air. “Damian…” you started, but before you could finish, he reached out and gently took your hand in his.

His thumb brushed over the back of your hand in a way that felt intimate, but not in a rushed or inappropriate way—more like he was savoring the moment.

“I would like to do this again,” he said, his voice earnest, but not without the usual confidence. “Whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, he took your hand and, with a deep breath, lowered his head and kissed the back of it. The touch of his lips was soft, respectful—gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into the background.

When he pulled back, his gaze remained locked with yours, almost searching, as if to make sure you understood just how much that small gesture meant to him.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said quietly, straightening up and offering his arm again, as if nothing had changed—except, of course, that now you both knew something had. Something deeper than either of you had expected when you started this evening.

You smiled, heart fluttering in your chest as you took his arm. “I’d like that.”

From the moment you officially became Damian’s girlfriend, your life changed—not in the dramatic way people might expect when dating the son of Bruce Wayne, but in the way that everything suddenly felt different. Like the world had shifted slightly, aligning perfectly in a way it hadn’t before.

Damian wasn’t like other boys your age. He didn’t do the whole awkward teenage romance thing. He wasn’t overly flirty, nor did he stumble through his words or second-guess himself. If he wanted to hold your hand, he did. If he wanted to tell you he liked the way you looked in a certain outfit, he said it, blunt and without hesitation.

His affection wasn’t loud or showy, but it was constant—always there, woven into everything he did.

Damian is, above all else, a gentleman. He treats you with the kind of respect that most guys your age wouldn’t even think about. Holding doors open for you? Always. Walking on the side of the street closest to traffic to “protect” you? A given.

If you ever carried anything heavier than a book, it was suddenly his burden. He didn’t even ask—he just took it from you with a simple, “Tt. You shouldn’t be straining yourself.”

He makes sure you never have to worry about anything. If you so much as mention feeling cold? His jacket is around your shoulders before you can finish your sentence. If you’re tired? He’s finding the closest place for you to sit, even if it means him physically leading you there by the small of your back.

But most of all, he listens. He pays attention in a way no one else does. If you casually mention something you like—your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been dying to read, a little café you want to try—Damian remembers. And soon enough, you’ll find a bouquet of those flowers waiting in your locker, that book sitting on your desk, or him showing up outside your house on a Saturday morning, saying, “Get in. We’re going to that café you won’t stop talking about.”

Because to Damian, caring means action.

Damian isn’t very verbal with his affection at first. He won’t say sweet, flowery words or write you poetry (even though you swear he has the soul of an old poet somewhere deep inside him). Instead, he shows his love through actions.

He’s always near you. Always. If you’re walking through the halls at school, his hand is resting against your lower back, gently guiding you. If you’re studying together, his knee is touching yours beneath the table. If you’re out somewhere, he positions himself slightly in front of you, instinctively shielding you from the crowd.

And while he doesn’t do PDA in public (besides holding your hand or the occasional brush of his fingers along your arm), when you’re alone? That’s when he lets his guard down.

Soft touches. He’s always touching you in some way—running his fingers over the back of your hand, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, resting a hand on your knee when you sit next to him.

Forehead touches. Whenever he’s feeling particularly soft (which he would never admit out loud), he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. It’s a silent way of saying I’m here. You’re mine. We belong to each other.

Hand kisses. He does this a lot. If you ever feel sad? He takes your hand, kisses your knuckles, and simply says, “You have me.” And that’s enough.

Damian is not someone who tolerates threats to what’s his.

He’s not loud about it, not the type to start fights over jealousy, but his presence alone is enough to keep people in check. If another guy even thinks about flirting with you, Damian is already there, standing a little too close, his green eyes sharp and possessive as he stares the poor guy down.

His hand will tighten on your waist, and his voice will drop an octave as he says something like, “I assume you have nothing important to say. If so, leave.”

And just like that, the threat is gone.

If you ever tease him about being jealous, he just crosses his arms and scoffs, Tt. “I am simply ensuring that no one wastes your time with their nonsense.”

But the way his hand subtly tightens around yours says otherwise.

At first, Damian struggles with vulnerability. He’s used to being the strong one, the one who handles everything without needing help. But with you? You see past that.

There are nights when he sneaks into your room through your window, not as Robin, but just as Damian. Those are the moments when he talks to you about things he’d never say to anyone else.

About his mother. About his father. About the weight of his family name and how, sometimes, he feels like he has to be perfect to live up to it.

And you listen. You always listen. You don’t try to fix him, don’t tell him that he’s wrong for feeling this way. You just hold his hand, stroke his hair, and whisper, “You’re already enough, Damian.”

And those words stay with him longer than he’ll ever admit.

Bruce: At first? He’s skeptical. Protective. But when he sees how much Damian genuinely cares for you—how you make him softer, more grounded—Bruce actually starts to approve.

“You keep him... balanced,” Bruce admits to you one evening. “That’s not an easy thing to do.”

(Which, coming from Bruce Wayne, is probably the highest compliment you’ll ever receive.)

Dick: “Oh my god. Damian has a girlfriend.” He’s so smug about it. Constantly teasing Damian, constantly referring to you as his soft spot.

He also makes sure you know that if Damian ever hurts you (which he won’t), you can definitely call Dick to handle it.

Alfred: Alfred adores you. Treats you like family from the moment he realizes you make Damian happy. Always makes extra tea and snacks whenever you visit Wayne Manor.

“You keep Master Damian in check, Miss. I quite appreciate it.”

Dating Damian isn’t easy. He’s intense, overprotective, sometimes way too serious for his age. But at the same time?

He loves deeply.

Once you’re his, you’re his forever. There’s no in-between, no uncertainty. Damian loves you with the same ferocity that he does everything else in his life.

And one day? When he’s older, stronger, even more sure of himself—he won’t hesitate to tell you:

“You are mine. And I am yours. Always.”

And that is what loving Damian is like.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[aeolianblues]

I think parents and people close to your world are one factor, but a whole other factor is also acquaintances and people who don't know you very well, but need something to fall back on for when they interact with you, so rather than just being open and honest and saying 'I don't really know a lot about you, but we're acquainted and I want to be kind so here's $50, go buy yourself something you like', they'd rather have a script of stereotypes to follow. So they fall back on 'what is a girl gift' and 'what's blue and acceptably boyish'. Same when it comes to making conversation and small talk. Instead of 'congratulations on your baby, how're you feeling 2 weeks in?' you get 'He'll be such a ladies' man'. 'What are you interested in?' becomes 'but girls love dress up!'

It's just another one of those things where you wish people would stop trying to 'save face' and just genuinely be kind to each other rather than being 'nice'. And then your parents and close circles get swayed by the thought of what these acquaintances will think, and in trying to be 'nice' to them, they end up squashing the people that trust them and whom they should be protecting.

Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy's girl, I was told I would always try to sneak the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say "you can't do that because you're a girl", they simply didn't entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn't like being in the garage much and wasn't all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.

Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There's the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there's the Gender Child.

My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life enjoyed playing soccer because that's what a Boy Child likes.

Growing up, I always felt like adults didn't actually know me as a person and they weren't interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they'd already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told "it's a girl".

When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don't like getting gifts that aren't something I picked out myself), it isn't actually about the gifts themselves. I don't even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑  ૮꒰˶˃  ᵕ  ˂˶꒱ა  ♡ in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’ll  explore  your  first  kiss  with  your  future  spouse. how  it  will  look,  feel,  and  unfold.

remember,  this  is  a  general  reading,  so  take  what  resonates  and  let  the  rest  go.

trust  your  intuition,  choose  the  picture  or  pile  that  calls  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  unfold!

✧˖°.₊  ♡  ✩˚  ༘

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE ONE ﹑ ﹒ the  moment  your  lips  finally  meet,  it  won’t  just  be  a  kiss.  it  will  be  a  realization.  a  wake-up  call.  this  kiss  won’t  happen  randomly;  it  will  come  after  a  moment  of  deep  reflection,  after  both  of  you  have  finally  acknowledged  what  has  been  simmering  beneath  the  surface.  it  will  be  confirmation  of  something  undeniable,  something  inevitable.  the  intensity  will  hit  like  a  tidal  wave.  fated,  electrifying,  almost  life-changing.  there  will  be  no  hesitation,  no  second-guessing.  the  chemistry  will  be  magnetic,  impossible  to  ignore.  this  kiss  might  happen  in  public,  bold  and  unafraid,  with  your  future  spouse  taking  charge,  unable  to  resist  any  longer.  maybe  it  follows  a  long  period  of  teasing,  flirting,  pushing,  pulling.  until  they  surrender  and  just  do  it.  it  will  be  passionate.  raw.  urgent.  an  explosion  of  pent-up  tension,  finally  released.  it  might  even  carry  a  competitive  energy,  as  if  both  of  you  are  trying  to  prove  something.  to  win,  to  dominate,  to  claim  each  other  in  the  moment.  maybe  it  happens  after  a  heated  argument,  starting  off  intense,  rough,  almost  aggressive,  before  softening  into  something  that  takes  your  breath  away.  it  won’t  be  a  neat,  practiced  kiss.  it  will  be  messy,  deep,  desperate,  like  your  mouths  were  made  for  each  other.  tongues  intertwining,  warmth  spreading,  a  kiss  that  lingers  and  leaves  you  dizzy.  and  when  you  finally  pull  away,  both  of  you  will  know:  nothing  will  ever  be  the  same  again.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE TWO ﹑ ﹒ your  first  kiss  will  be  quiet,  steady,  and  grounding,  like  sinking  into  a  warm  embrace  after  a  long  storm.  it  will  feel  like  home.  like  relief.  the  moment  will  be  wrapped  in  peace.  perhaps  after  a  long  day,  or  after  transitioning  from  chaos  into  stillness.  there  is  no  rush  here,  no  urgency,  just  two  souls  finding  solace  in  each  other.  it’s  the  kind  of  kiss  that  happens  in  a  dimly  lit  room,  by  a  crackling  fireplace,  wrapped  in  warmth,  with  the  world  fading  away.  a  moment  so  intimate,  so  personal,  it  feels  sacred.  this  kiss  is  healing.  both  of  you  will  need  it.  no  words  necessary.  no  hesitation.  just  a  slow,  natural  pull  toward  each  other,  like  gravity  itself  is  drawing  you  in.  it  will  be  gentle,  unhurried,  perfectly  synchronized,  the  kind  of  kiss  where  time  slows  down,  where  you  melt  into  each  other  effortlessly.  but  beneath  that  softness,  there’s  something  deeper.  an  emotional  release,  like  walls  crumbling,  like  old  wounds  finally  finding  closure.  one  of  you  might  be  carrying  past  hurt,  trying  to  protect  your  heart,  but  this  kiss…  this  kiss  will  break  through  it  all.  it  will  be  overwhelming  in  the  most  beautiful  way.  your  breath  will  catch,  your  skin  will  tingle,  maybe  even  goosebumps.  and  when  you  pull  away,  you’ll  both  be  shaking,  stunned,  forever  changed.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE THREE ﹑ ﹒ your  first  kiss  will  be  hesitant,  calculated.  like  a  chess  move,  like  a  silent  confession.  there  will  be  overthinking,  tension  thick  in  the  air.  maybe  you’ll  both  try  to  resist  it,  maintaining  composure,  pretending  this  moment  isn’t  inevitable.  but  then,  sharp  eye  contact.  a  knowing  glance.  and  suddenly,  everything  else  disappears.  the  kiss  won’t  be  rushed  or  chaotic;  it  will  be  intentional.  every  touch,  every  movement,  carefully  placed,  as  if  both  of  you  have  been  waiting  for  the  perfect  moment.  i  see  slow  smiles  against  lips,  a  sense  of  satisfaction,  as  if  you  both  knew  this  would  happen  all  along.  maybe  it  follows  a  victory,  a  celebration,  a  moment  of  triumph.  maybe  one  of  you  hesitates  at  first,  nervous,  avoiding  eye  contact.  but  the  second  your  lips  meet,  all  uncertainty  vanishes.  the  kiss  will  feel  like  stepping  into  a  movie  scene.  intense,  cinematic,  something  meant  to  be  remembered.  it  will  start  slow,  soft,  thoughtful…  and  then  suddenly,  as  emotions  take  over,  it  will  transform  into  something  bold,  fiery,  intoxicating.  you’ll  feel  it  in  your  bones,  in  your  soul.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE FOUR ﹑ ﹒ your  first  kiss  will  be  an  undeniable  claim,  a  declaration.  no  hesitation,  no  second-guessing.  your  future  spouse.  or  someone  with  strong,  masculine  energy.  will  take  charge.  they’ll  kiss  you  like  they  know  they  want  you,  like  there’s  no  question  about  it.  this  kiss  is  controlled,  confident,  and  full  of  intensity.  it  will  be  the  kind  of  kiss  that  stops  time,  that  makes  your  heart  pound  in  your  chest.  there  will  be  deep  eye  contact  beforehand,  a  silent  conversation  passing  between  you  both,  heavy  with  meaning.  the  kiss  will  be  sudden,  hot,  and  maybe  even  reckless.  done  without  thinking,  just  feeling.  expect  hands  pulling,  bodies  pressing  closer,  unspoken  desire  finally  unleashed.  it  won’t  be  soft  and  uncertain;  it  will  be  full  of  energy,  passion,  and  raw  need.  and  yet,  underneath  all  the  heat,  there’s  something  deeper.  something  serious.  devotion.  commitment.  the  kiss  will  carry  weight,  as  if  it  holds  every  unspoken  promise  between  you.  it  might  even  happen  in  a  traditional  or  formal  setting,  where  it  shouldn’t  happen,  but  the  tension  is  too  much  to  ignore.  it  will  be  overwhelming.  sensual.  the  chemistry  undeniable.  maybe  you’ll  try  to  resist,  but  resistance  is  futile.  the  moment  will  consume  you,  leaving  you  breathless,  trembling,  and  completely  undone.

[mythalism]

You seem to be both a solavellan and mythal fan so maybe I won’t get shot for this question lol

Veilguard was my first game. I kept default settings, which meant solavellan world state.

I genuinely wonder: what makes people think Solas loves Lavellan? Or that if being with Mythal possible, he still would choose Lavellan?

He is so clearly not over Mythal. Last game is filled with references to their connection, she herself confirms that both still love each other. He is very protective of her while arguing with Elgarnan. Statues of them everywhere, him painting and playing songs about her, his very own room having statues of Mythal… In the end he discloses he does it all for her, refuses to stop after Lavellan’s appeals, and only does so after Mythal shows up.

In comparison, Solas describes what he had with Lavellan as “entanglement he selfishly grow close to” he both regrets and cherishes. Most of the romance is carried on Inquisitor’s shoulders, as she both explicitly tells what he means to her, reaches out to him and ultimately shares his burden of atonement.

I couldn’t understand why this ship was so popular, so I watched solavellan romance in DAI. And while it was beautifully done, having the context of Veilguard, I just keep seeing Mythal in every “we shouldn’t”/his face after balcony kiss/ultimately abandoning her in the end. It feels almost unfair and cruel for him to enter another relationship while his heart isn’t free. And to visit Lavellan’s dreams afterwards

What am I missing?

a lot of people would shoot you for this. but dont worry i am not one of them. be careful out there tho

i think the first thing i would say is that instead of watching a video, you would need to do play a full solavellan playthrough of the game if you do want to genuinely understand the relationship and why it is so beloved. im not sure which compilation you watched, but even one that includes all their conversations (rather than just the cutscenes, of which there are very few) cannot do the relationship justice. so much of understanding solas as a character and how he loves people, by extension, is wrapped up in how he reacts to the world at large, its people, its history, its institutions, and its metaphysics. assuming you're new to DA and wouldn't know this, solas's romance in inquisition is the shortest, most sparse romance in the game, and was added later in development. as a result, much of his essential characterization happens outside the bounds of romance content, but still adds deeper meaning, context, and depth to the relationship. even in terms of romance specific content, some of my favorite content occurs in banter that probably was not included in the video you watched. the solas romance is less a standalone love story, in the way many of the romances are, and more of a big juicy delicious cherry on top that helps you better understand the overall dragon age solas plot/cake you're eating.

theres a couple non-romance specific scenes that shed significant light on solas & mythal's dynamic from his perspective that i am not sure if you have seen and honestly i wouldnt recommend watching them because, again, i think you should just play inquisition and experience them in the proper context. but solas's companion personal quest is directly about his corruption at the hands of mythal, though we didn't know that until veilguard came out and contextualized it. and this quest pretty explicitly demonstrates how he feels about what she did to him: rage, beyond forgiveness, deserving of death. he also comments on her at the temple of mythal, and his comments are mostly neutral but verging on judgemental, and do illuminate that while he may have loved her, he certainly did not trust her. it is he who first clarifies that she was a goddess of vengeance, rather than justice. which i cant think about too long or else i'll get angry that they ret-conned it to benevolence -> retribution or whatever the fuck and erased the anders/justice/vengeance parallel... anyway

but i think more telling is his absolute refusal to drink from the well if asked, and most telling; how he fears for an inquisitor who drank.

he specifically calls mythal dangerous, arrogant, and fickle, absolutely refuses to submit to her will once again via the drinking of the well, and begs an inquisitor he loves not to do the same lest she suffer the same fate. he loves mythal, of course, but he also fears her. he is critical of her behavior and wary of her motivations. his love for her exists alongside his recognition of what she was.

another fairly vital bit of information is how according to trespasser (cole banter), solas used to wear mythal vallaslin until he burnt it off his own face when he developed his vallaslin removal spell. its how he got the little scar above his eyebrow. meaning, if vallaslin were slave markings, that solas was effectively enslaved to her. this is... pretty important context, obviously. but we never find out what it might have been like for him. veilguard.... didnt forget but rather deliberately ignored this because it wasnt willing to interrogate the issue of slavery which had been vital to solas as the leader of a slave rebellion. ugh. anyway.

this leads into my next point which is that veilguard really drastically changes solas's motivations to be far more mythal-centric than what was set up in inquisition/trespasser. we always knew something was up with them, and people always wondered if they might have been lovers, but veilguard goes in on this idea in a way that many people would actually call out-of-character compared to how he behaves in inquisition. veilguard itself though does present their relationship as rather complex though, in my opinion its one of the best parts of the game. the two moments that i chew on most frequently are the letter from felassan in mythal's weird little dragon pit that reveals how he made that island for her but locked it away when she was killed. and my ultimate fave is how she reveals that in the literal thousands of years she has been sitting there alone since her murder, many of which he was alive and fighting a rebellion partly in her name, and in the 12 years since he woke up from uthenera, he never went to visit her. not once. its giving jane eyre and i fucking love it. in this same conversation, she also says that when he killed flemeth, he wept. this, i think, is the crux of how he feels about her. he can barely look at her. he resents her. he will use her like he did anyone else. he loves her. he feels lost without her. he will never forgive her. he misses her. all of these things are true at once, and mythal seems to feel similarly; she loathes him. she understands him better than anyone. she resents him for betraying her and abandoning her. she calls him a pathetic little crybaby pussy ass bitch. she loves him.

i dont think anything you said in your message is necessarily wrong. i do think he loves mythal still. i think he always will. i think mythal is valid when she says that they have a bond that no one will ever understand. i agree he is protective over her. i also interpret their relationship as romantic though a lot of people do not. i just love drama. but i think you are misinterpreting his reluctance to be with lavellan as coming from his attachment to mythal as a person, rather than his attachment to his duty to what mythal represents - the world he ruined, everything he's ever done wrong. to say that solas would actually consciously choose mythal over lavellan if they were the final two contestants on the bachelorette is honestly, absurd. sorry. because actually he would choose neither, he would dramatically let the rose fall to the ground and run off to restore the elven people while chris hansen (felassan) dramatically runs after him. both women are secondary to him when it comes to the good of the entire world, and fixing what he broke. he has had plenty of moments to choose mythal and run away with her if he wanted. he has literally had her bertha-ing out in his crossroads attic for 10 years. he also literally does kill her via flemeth. which isnt to say that he wouldn't kill lavellan if forced to, i think he would. but the point here is that its not mythal vs. lavellan. its mythal vs. the world, and lavellan vs. the world. he should have chosen the world over mythal. he didnt. he created the blight instead. he destroyed everything. he cannot make the same mistake again, so he will choose the world every. single. time.

regardless, every time solas turns away from lavellan in the romance, he is not thinking "i wish you were her". he is thinking "if i do this to you, i have become her". prioritizing his own desires over the good of the world, stringing her along, using her as a tool to do his bidding (getting the orb back), are all things mythal did to him. he told her he would follow her anywhere. and when he begins to realize that lavellan would follow him anywhere (as she says in veilguard), he freaks out and has to end it. he knows he will have to continue to kill and cause destruction to bring his world back, so if he did allow her to join him in walking the dinan'shiral, or did anything other than break her heart and leave her, he would be corrupting her the way mythal corrupted him; a weapon to achieve his goal. but he refuses. in his mind, he already destroyed the world for love once; at mythal's behest. if he abandons the world for lavellan, he is destroying the world for love again, and making her an accomplice. so, every time he leaves her it is an act of love.

the way the inquisitor is the driving force of their romance is partly just... gameplay lol but its also consistent with the overarching theme of consent in a relationship that is fundamentally unethical and unequal. lavellan has to be the initiator or else solas becomes a predator. some would say he is anyway lol, but its clear much of the writing was designed to avoid this with the way he is constantly denying himself, backing away, trying not to give in. it might have been juicy, but for him to knowingly romantically and sexually pursue a young woman 10,000 years younger while lying to her about his identity and using her for his plans would make him an entirely different character. a character that would be a hit on romantasy booktok, but not solas. consent and ethics are so central to not only the relationship thematically, but to solas himself, and some of that is because of mythal and the inequality of their own past dynamic. solas is so passive in the romance not because he doesnt like this weird clingy bitch who wont leave him alone, but because he does not want to recreate the same dynamic that corrupted him into pride and uhhhh literally destroyed the world. i'll leave you with another essential quote that you may not have encountered yet:

Cole: It isn’t abuse if I ask! Solas: Not always true.

in trespasser, solas's duty to bring down the veil was more unambiguously to the elven people and the alleviation of his own crushing guilt, while mythal was collateral damage in his way and he used her like he would use anyone else (including lavellan loool) as a tool to achieve his goals. we see this when he kills flemeth and takes mythal's power. in veilguard they had to obscure this slightly to make him "less sympathetic", to use the devs own words. and they did this by shifting the crux of his motivations to mythal. i dont think his lap dog devotion is out of character, i adore it, but i hate that it came at the expense of his more complex and sympathetic motivations of saving the elven people and spirits from the damage of the veil. as a result, when looking at his behavior in the context of inquisition + trespasser + veilguard, i interpret it as mythal being symbolic of the destruction of the world at his hands. and not to toot my own horn but trick's interpretation that they shared on bluesky does support this, when they said that to solas, mythal represents the past and lavellan represents the future. ive written about his statement that it was all for mythal, and the tldr is that i think it is also supposed to be interpreted as symbolic and reflective of his psyche. but even if he did do it all for her, i dont think that necessarily negates his relationship with lavellan. he needs mythal to break the cognitive dissonance, alleviate his guilt, and release him, because she is the source of all of those things in the first place. lavellan could never break them because she is frankly irrelevant to those things. he is so caught up in his sunk-cost fallacy that he feels the only way is through. lavellan may not be able to break the hold the past has on him because she is separate from it, but she can offer him another path once it has been broken, a fork in the road he thought was straight; her, their future.

i think to say solas's heart is not free is a misunderstanding. he denies his heart's desire over and over, we see this clearly in the letter he sends to lavellan in veilguard that expresses how badly he wanted to put down his burden and stay with her. in his expressed reluctance to leave her in crestwood, how he refuses to lie and tell her it meant nothing. in "no matter what happens, i want you to know that what we had was real". his indulgent final kiss in trespasser. in "i will never forget you". its especially apt that you worded it this way and that vhenan means "my heart". if anything, his heart is the most free part of him. it is everything else that belongs to mythal: his body, created at her command. his path of destruction and ruin, which she set him on. his purpose, which she distorted from wisdom to pride. she, then, is the only one who can give it all back to him. and as soon as she does, he is free to prioritize his heart. and he quite literally does.

tldr; play inquisition <3

[sarahsangelicdoll]

hi! can you write like rafe and reader are best friends but they fuck whenever they need to get off like they’re not together but they like each other and they know they like each other and they don’t get with anyone else or anything but anyways back to what i was saying, whenever they fuck reader is always to scared to do it without protection but just needs him and so they go at it blah blah and then he’s about to pull out but reader tells him to cum inside?

i really hope this makes sense😭💜

༊·˚ Breeding kink + fwb!Rafe… yes pleasee

cw: 18+!, mdni, breeding, unprotected p n v

a/n: another req that’s been sitting in my inbox.. i might elaborate more on it but i just really wanted to get this out for you bby 💞 so rushed lol. not proud of this at all. one req left in my drafts !!

“Fuck sweetheart… feel so good.” Rafe groaned into your ear. One hand lazily holding your throat while the other had a bruising grip on your hip. “Gonna cum in you if you keep squeezing me like that..”

You don’t know what got into you, but the thought had your thighs clenching shut around his waist. Nails scraping down his back even harder. Rafe however, was oblivious. He of course thought of it before, but the thought was too good to ever be possible, right? So he simply assumed you were about to cum.

“Yeah? gonna cum for me baby?” He asks through his own laboured breathing, leaning up to bring his hand down and rub at your clit. The sounds spilling from your lips were heavenly and had Rafe nearing even closer to his own orgasm.

“Fuck.. gonna cum..” He pants, about to pull out to paint your stomach with his cum, but found himself unable as your legs tightened around his hips.

“Cum inside, please?” You pout, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. How could he possibly refuse that? He knew he should’ve double checked with you, but he’s been wanting this for so long.

His thrusts quickly started again after a momentary pause, a low moan escaping his lips. “Shit… you have any idea what you do to me?” He chuckled before the both of you let out broken moans, cumming at the same time.

Your pussy tightened around his cock as you felt his cum paint your walls, the unusual sensation making your stomach flutter with butterflies as the two of you basked in your orgasm after glows.

After you both caught your breath Rafe leaned up and your legs fell from his hips, his cock slowly exiting your warm cunt.

Rafe could feel his cock hardening again as he grabbed your calf and held it up, smirking as he watched his cum pool out from your cunt. “Shit.. Should do that again baby..”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

rafe taglist: @rafestoothbrush

[squshymarsh]

DCxDP Prompt #5

For the bit(we’ll be cultists)

When Danny won the title of Ghost King, he wasn’t expecting some of his more ghostly attributes to seep over into his human form.

Or to be unable to control his powers like at all for a month or two after gaining his new title.

He’s still 14-15 though and has to be in Highschool to make sure his grades don’t fall any further. Even if he did just save the town with only his piers in his grade know about him.

It’s no surprise when he accidentally walks through a door after trying to open it only to find himself intangible or to start floating away with no way to control it and need one of his classmates to save him from floating into the stratosphere.

It’s all fine for a while, people help him. Those who used to bully him now lend a hand when he needs it. They aren’t kind about it but they aren’t shoving him into lockers anymore.

But that doesn’t last.

People start to notice the strange things that keep happening as his powers grow and become harder and harder to hide even with help. He had made an entire class take place on the ceiling one day. Another he made half the town float.

The Fenton parents and the GIW start working together to figure it out. It’s only a matter of time if no one does anything

So what is Danny, his friends and his class going to do to hide the real reason of what’s going on?

They pretend to be a cult. Full on cartoonishly cult like. The chanting, the robes, the sneaking out to an old building on the edge of town to have a ritual kind of cult. Playing off Danny’s fluctuating powers as the results of their work.

This gets the opposition to back off a bit. Not their circus not their monkeys. And the rituals release some of Danny’s pent up power.

Danny just had to lay in a circle, surrounded by the faces of friends and classmates while they chant and his powers gets released a little at a time.

It’s a great deal.

Until Danny is found out one day unable to use the cult as an excuse and has to bounce out of town. And the rest of his Casper High Class, ever committed to the bit, follow him since the GIW and the Fentons are laying waste to the town and it’s just not safe.

Where do they go?

To the Crime Capital of the world of course!

Gotham is the perfect place to continue the bit. Their ‘cult’ runs all the way to Gotham, looking out for one another and the such. Not because they care about each other, of course.

They all tell themselves that but there’s only so much chanting in ghost speak and Latin a frenemy relationship can take.

They are tight knit by time they settle in a collection of old buildings on the edge of Gotham. Danny’s powers are starting to settle, but he still has bad days. Those days the cult gathers and ‘performs a ritual’ but really they just have a little get together, sitting in a big room set up with a circle with Danny laying and meditating in the middle and chat in Latin or Ghost speak.

For the bit, they preform a fake ritual. Headed by Sam since she has all the knowledge on what cults do. For the bit, the give offerings to Danny in exchange for him protecting them both back in Amity and in Gotham. For the bit, they make it a monthly thing or as needed.

Sure Danny doesn’t realize he’s given each of his friends and classmates blessing from a literal King of Gods and Beings Beyond Human Comprehension.

It was for the bit.

What wasn’t for the bit was getting caught by the local furries.

Danny hadn’t had a ritual in a month, his powers were building up but he was stressed with work and school.

His cult of friends decided he needed a ritual and pseudo-kidnap him to sacrifice his own power to himself.

Don’t ask them, it just works.

Mid ‘ritual’ Danny is trapped in the circle while they keep his powers contained as it’s released. He could destroy the building if he so much as blinks. They are nearly through with it. Can return to the party after they’re done and he’s ‘normal’ again.

So when the Bat and Co. crash the ritual, right before the end. Danny can’t do anything while his classmates both defend him, each other, and those trying to finish the ritual.

It’s looking bad but the ritual finishes. Danny is freed from the circle and starts helping his friends defend themselves and escape. Of course, he knows what this looks like. And he knows that the Bats and Birds are just trying to keep their own city safe from a perceived threat.

So he apologizes to them while he takes down the Bats and Birds then absconds with his Cult&Co. hoping they would understand. No one was hurt and there was no loss on either side. Alls well ends well?

To the Bats and Birds.

They find a group of robed cultists that established themselves quickly and then they see the cult gather, having a party until another group come in dragging Adoption Bait behind them. They start the ritual. Bats and Co. think kid is getting sacrificed and step in. Only to be nearly fought off and the ritual to complete.

They then have to watch as some entity controls the kids body to fight them off. The kid looks terrified, apologizing while he is forced to fight for the cult.

Then they all get away.

(I have the flu, have this lil idea/drabble while I try not to die)

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twenty One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER

Info: I’m back after my long sabbatical, don’t hate me. It’s shorter than usual, I just didn’t want to make you guys wait any longer [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread, there’s probably so many mistakes. MDNI 18+

With the front door shut, you were finally alone with Anakin again. Every time you tried to lift your head, each time you managed to turn to the side to escape the onslaught of primal kisses he’d trap your lips in; he’d pull you right back in without giving you a second to breathe.

“Stop.” His voice stern and unyielding even as he muttered it against your lips, his long fingers wrapping around your neck to further drive his statement home.

“Ani-” You squeaked, your hands resting on his biceps, fingertips digging in harder as he tightened his hold. “Just talk-”

“Shut up.” He growled, shaking you just beneath your jaw out of irritation. His eyes blazing with a ferocity you hadn’t ever witnessed with your own two eyes, only felt burn into your flesh. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid!” You snapped back, quickly regretting the outburst when the back of his hand made contact with your cheek, luckily only one of his metal rings caught the skin, allowing a stinging pain to seep across the sensitive skin.

“No. Not yet.” He shook his head, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “But you will be.”

With a sharp movement he snatched a handful of your hair and guided you to the arm of the couch, kneeling on the cushion behind you as he bent you over. An audible pop of the stitches in the waistband of your pants permeated the otherwise silent room as he ripped down your pants mid-thigh. The blood rushed to your head as you scrambled to hold yourself up, grasping at the upholstery to find traction to lift yourself back up, to no avail.

“Anakin, I'm serious, I want to talk about this!” You shouted, your face feeling flushed as you struggled to hold yourself up on the tips of your fingers that barely brushed the floor.

“Excuse me?” He shouted back, ramming himself into your wet cunt as you yelped in surprise. “What did I just fucking say?” He barked rhetorically. “I said to shut your goddamn mouth.”

Anakin grabbed your hair again, pulling you up just enough to press two fingers to your lips, he let you loose, allowing your head to drop down. A loud gag emitted from your throat as his fingers hit your uvula, accompanied by a coughing fit that had your vision blurry. Your whole body jolted with each and every thrust and snap of his hips. He set a brutal pace that stole away your breath and your ability to think about anything other than the intense fire he’d lit in your lower abdomen.

“There, that’s better.” He grunted, satisfied that the only noises coming from you were wet and whiny.

“I’m only going to say this once.” He grumbled, smacking your hip before grabbing it and using your own body as leverage. “You. Don’t. Know. Shit.”

“And it’s gonna stay that way.” He added, driving into you deep and hard as you drooled around his fingers, his thumb digging into the side of your face. “Understand?”

Anakin finally removed his fingers from your mouth, allowing you a chance to gulp down fresh air and breathe more easily as you coughed to ease the itching in your esophagus. With both of his large hands enveloping your hips, he leaned forward, his chest now flush against the heated flesh of your back. The way he so gently, sweetly kissed your spine all the way up and across your shoulders, was the complete opposite to how he was manhandling the rest of your body.

His thick length stretching you perfectly, so perfectly that every time he sheathed himself it felt like a sparkler had lit up inside your stomach. With each kiss the tip of his cock bruised your cervix with, the sparkler burned brighter, popping and crackling until it fizzled down to the end. With a final burst in your core, Anakin sent you spiraling into a world where there was nothing left but him.

Your only thoughts surrounded him, each breath that was drawn in and out of your lungs, held his scent. Your skin tingled and warmed as though hundreds of his calloused hands held you within their grasp. Even the tears formed in the corners of your eyes held the same heat that you felt pool between your thighs for him. Your lips frozen in a soft ‘O’ shape as you came down from the heaven he’d tossed you up into.

“I asked you a question, you know.” He panted, his rough palms smoothing up and down your back.

“Huh?” You murmured, allowing him to continue slowly rutting up into you while his cum leaked out and formed a frothy ring of white at the base of his cock.

“Acceptable answer.” He chuckled as a smirk twitched across his mouth. He’d take your inability to comprehend his words as a sign he’d fucked your questions deep enough into the back of your mind that you’d leave it be for now.

“What?” You asked confusedly as his arm hooked beneath your stomach and pulled you up as his cock slipped out of you with a soft pop.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He whispered, standing behind you as he kept you steady on your wobbly legs. “We going to bed here? Or wanna go across the hall?”

“Here.” You nodded tiredly, stripping off your clothes right there in the living room before you sluggishly traveled to the bathroom to clean up while Anakin tidied up the dining table and the kitchen in his boxers.

Feeling frustrated and annoyed, you sat down on the edge of the tub to wash up a bit. Once again you’d allowed yourself to be steered away from a conversation you desperately needed to have, despite really not wanting to have it. Part of you was thankful to have avoided it, but the logical side of you was screaming at you for being such a fool. The answers to such big and burning questions were just on the other side of the wall, making odd noises to stave off the boredom that came along with clearing the table and scraping off the dishes.

If only you could get a yes or no. That’s all you really needed, just a simple yes or no. You knew it in your soul. You’d known for a while and refused to admit it. But his vague words and his aggressive reaction confirmed it.

You should be scared. Terrified.

Though it just left you feeling… hollow. Why? Why would he do this for so long and never confess it on his own? Why had he hidden himself in the first place? Did he think less of you for demanding answers? Was it only going to push him farther away, farther into himself if you kept pushing?

How could you coax it out of him? It was obvious that he knew you knew. So why was it so hard for either of you to speak about? The complacency you felt with the situation had been stagnant for so long that it was a difficult shell to break out of. You’d both become so accustomed to the secrecy of it all that it felt almost wrong to hear the truth.

You sighed, standing up, brushing your teeth and combing through your ratted up hair before steeling yourself and exiting the bathroom. As you ran a hand through your hair, you turned to the kitchen, expecting to see Anakin scurrying about. Though he was nowhere to be seen. The bedroom was empty as well, so you checked the fire escape, seeing him there with his bong, the flame of his lighter flicking to life as he took a long pull of smoke.

You stood and watched him for a moment, admiring the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, the soft curve of his lips and the way his hair curled up at the nape of his neck. Those piercing blue eyes drifted from the alley below, out to the street as he observed the city moving around him. He was so interesting to watch, especially when he didn’t know your eyes were on him.

He lost the bravado and the confidence he carried so well. His body language was more reserved and relaxed, as if he were taking off a weight from his shoulders. It made you wonder what he was carrying around with him that weighed so heavily. Was it the secret you knew of? Or something buried deeper?

After grabbing a blanket to wrap around your naked body, you walked to the cracked open window and nudged it open a bit further to stick your head out. He looked up at you with a sullen expression, making no effort to hide that he was feeling… feeling something.

“You okay Ani?” You asked quietly, sitting on the lip of the window sill despite it being horribly uncomfortable.

“As good as I can be.” He nodded, a plume of smoke wrapping around his head.

“What do you mean?” You asked, watching him tilt his head to the side as he tongued his labret jewelry.

“I mean, I’m as good as I can be.” He said flatly, a face accompanying the words that made you believe there was a hidden meaning beneath them.

“Are you coming inside soon?” You asked softly, your eyebrows swooped up in concern.

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” He nodded, his voice gruff and disinterested. He reached over and squeezed your hand, rubbing your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

You stayed there a second longer, trying to decipher his mood and his thoughts via body language even though you knew it was useless, it was never easy to get a read on him. Even harder when he was like this. You stood and began to make your way to the bedroom when you heard his voice, softer and more diminutive.

“You do love me. Don’t you?” He asked, his voice melancholic. He wasn’t asking for reassurance, he seemed to be asking as though he genuinely didn’t believe it.

“Yes.” You said firmly, turning to look at him under the faint yellowed street light. “I do love you.” You added just to further confirm it for him.

“You’re sure?” He asked, visibly swallowing.

“Of course I’m sure.” You stepped closer, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“Good.” He nodded, looking down at the bong he held between his knees, lighting the bowl once more and taking a long pull. He held his breath far longer than you expected him to, letting the thin line of smoke leave his pursed lips slowly, enjoying the lightheaded feeling that addled his brain.

Just as you turned to leave the living room, he called out to you again as if the thoughts swirling in his mind simply wouldn’t let him wait to speak another moment.

“You know how I feel about you, right?” He asked, his icy blue eyes holding a warmth that had been absent during your conversation up till now.

“Yes, I know.” You smiled softly, your body relaxing a bit more.

“You do?” He asked in a worried tone, like he wasn’t convinced you were being completely truthful about it. “I’d do anything for you darlin’, you know that?”

“I know.” You nodded, the smile slipping from your face as it was replaced by something harder and more serious. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked with concern.

“I’m alright doll. Just makin’ sure.” He nodded, his fingers drumming on his thigh as he leaned back on his elbows to tilt his chin up and look to the sky. Murmuring something about how he wished he could see the stars as he shook his head and drug a hand down his face.

Diary Entry:

I’m losing it. I can’t do this. The closer I come to confessing, the sicker I get. Literally sick. I threw up after you went to bed last night. I want to tell you. You already know, but you should hear it from me. I know that. I know it’s unfair to tell you to shut up and leave it alone, but that’s the only thing I can get to leave my fucking mouth.

It’s like I’ve been barred from telling the truth.

My mind just can’t handle the thought you may recoil and run when it’s finally confirmed for you. I guess it’s just my way of protecting myself, but that’s hurtful for you. I’m unfortunately well aware of how hurtful that it is. It was clear on your face tonight.

Twice, I tried to tell you twice. Though all that came out were my worries. I feel strange. Like I've been flattened. Is that normal? I feel like it’s not.

What does it mean?

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry:

I feel like an animal. Not just any animal. A beast, of what kind, I’m not sure. I just feel like my skin isn’t sitting right. I don’t know how to let it out. What am I supposed to do? Go fucking nuts?

That’s what I want to do. I feel like I could trash an entire grocery store and I still wouldn’t be out of energy. It’s just boiling up under my skin. I feel like my bones are too big. Look at me, using all these ‘I’ statements. Wouldn’t you know it? They didn’t do shit.

I still feel those things, putting them down on paper and claiming those feelings didn’t do a damn thing but make me feel stupid.

How am I supposed to live my life in limbo? Between stages haven’t ever been something I'm comfortable with. Yet here I am, at the end of the week, still in limbo. Floating around, high stepping to avoid squashing the fragile truce we’ve called. You haven’t asked, I haven’t told.

The words sit on my tongue like acid. I haven’t ever felt like this before, such a strong urge to tell the truth. What have you done to me? I don’t like this. Is this what it’s like to feel a sense of responsibility? If it is, then fuck it. I don’t like it.

My eyes feel goopy. My feet are heavy. My lungs are on fire. My hands are numb. My scalp is tingly. My flesh is too fleshy. My muscles are too meaty. My bones are too big. They’re too big and they want out.

DATE:

Anakin walked to work as slowly as possible. Dragging his sneakers on the sidewalk just to listen to the scraping noise the soles made. He pushed his bottom lip up and sucked the ball of his labret jewelry between his teeth, moving it back and forth with his tongue to add a different sound to occupy his attention.

Anything to quiet his thoughts.

He was jumpy, overwhelmed, nervous. So nervous. His palms sweaty and tingling as he rubbed them across his thighs roughly, friction heating up the denim while it absorbed the moisture.

Finally, he stopped at the employee entrance of the bar. Staring at the solid gray metal, wondering how badly it would hurt in he sprinted head first into it. That would be a good reason to go home… maybe he’d even be able to rattle his brain hard enough that he’d shake the voices right out of his ears.

“Sup?” Trevor asked, walking up behind Anakin and lightly smacking the back of his neck.

“Fuck you man.” Anakin grumbled, startled out of his frozen state to rub the stinging flesh on the back of his neck. His fingers threading through his hair and mussing it up to rouse himself a bit.

“What’s up with your face?” Trevor asked, holding his palm up in front of Anakin’s face and flexing his fingers, actual concern in his voice now that he stood in front of his friend.

“I’m tired.” Anakin said flatly, no reason to elaborate considering it was very clearly the truth. The exhaustion he wore on his face was a heavy weight, making it difficult to mask the stone-like expression that was his default setting.

He couldn’t even muster the energy to blink at a normal speed, his eyelids so weighty it took a conscious effort to lift them. Anakin’s words seemed sullen, as though his very voice were just as meloncholic as his mind.

“Did you sleep at all?” Trevor asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Does it look like I fucking slept?” Anakin snapped.

“No. That’s why I asked, asshole.” Trevor muttered, reaching forward to open the door but Anakin stopped him with a sound he’d never heard him make before.

It was a tiny, audible swallowing sound that appeared to have taken a great effort to produce. It was like Anakin was manually operating himself and wasn’t used to the controls. Trevor turned, glancing back at him and was about to open his mouth before he was interrupted.

“Got any K?” Anakin asked, sounding far away.

“Uh-“ Trevor frowned. He did, of course he did. His bag was in the trunk of his car. “No dude, sold out yesterday… can’t get any until next week.”

“You’re an awful liar.” Anakin’s lip twitched and he pushed past Trevor and threw open the door, clocking in before heading out front.

“April where the hell is my apron and shit?” Anakin grumbled, rifling around beneath the counter where it was supposed to be.

“Laundry day, it’s in the back room.” She reminded him, frowning at his tone and aggressiveness. She shared a look with Trevor, conveying her concern through her eyes. Trevor simply shook his head as if to say ‘Don’t ask’.

“Oh. Right.” Anakin nodded, grunting as he straightened back up and went to retrieve his apron.

The night went on as usual, though Anakin uncharacteristically declined to be the front man on the bar. No taking orders for him, only mixing drinks and cleaning up messes. He didn’t have the mental energy to make his face look polite. He didn’t even have it in him to make it neutral, he wore a scowl that just wouldn’t go away. Not even when he thought of you. If anything, his frown deepen at the mental image of your face.

“No? Actually I was hoping to talk to him.” A female voice with a flirty tone floated through the chatter, causing Anakin to look up and over his shoulder at Trevor.

“You look really familiar.” Trevor said thoughtfully, while Anakin turned back around and pretended not to hear the conversation. Focusing much to hard on cutting limes and lemons. Each chop of the knife louder, harder.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. Guess I just have one of those faces.” She lightly laughed.

Anakin froze. He knew that sound. He hated that sound. He hadn’t ever expected to hear it again. His eye twitched and his grip tightened on the knife handle, slicing a deep groove into the wooden cutting board before using the blade to scrape the fresh citrus into a bowl.

Anakin grabbed the edge of his apron and wiped the blade as he turned around to face the direction of the offending voice. Locking eyes with a woman he hoped he’d never meet in public. Reaching behind him, he jammed the blade tip onto the wood, the metal vibrating up through the handle from the force of it.

“This lady says she knows you.” Trevor thumbed toward the dark haired, brown eyed woman in dress clothes.

“She doesn’t know shit about me,” Anakin snapped, walking over to the bar top and leaning forward. “what the fuck are you doing at my work?” He growled.

“No reason to be so hostile, I didn’t even realize you worked here. I just thought I’d say hello.” She said with faux politeness.

“Is that right?” Anakin gritted his teeth, rapping his knuckles against the slick surface of the bar. “Hello and goodbye.”

“You missed your call, confirmation of your next appointment.” She said matter of factly.

“Say one more word and I will call the licensing board.” Anakin’s lip curled up in anger, stepping back slightly as he remembered there was a camera watching his movements. He couldn’t be caught acting aggressively on tape.

“Pretty sure you’re breaking some kind of law by being here, talking about confidential shit.” He said in a calm voice that was almost more chilling than the grit that came along with his anger. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Anakin, there’s really no need-“ Trevor began and was swiftly interrupted.

“Trevor, I’ll be taking a break now. If this person isn’t gone by the time I come back, I’ll be quitting and finding somewhere else to work.” He said matter of factly, taking off his apron and tossing it underneath the counter before storming off into the backroom, leaving Trevor and April in complete confusion.

“Sorry, um… here’s your margarita.” Trevor said awkwardly. “On the house for the trouble.”

“It’s really no problem.” She shook her head and waved him off, allowing him to tend to other customers.

Meanwhile out in the back, Anakin paced back and forth, wondering what the hell he could do to get out of this situation. How dare she? That damn know it all bitch. Did she search through his personal information? What the hell kind of professional would do that? Exactly why women shouldn’t work in a field like hers.

Research. He needed to do some research.

He pulled his phone from his back pocket, thumbs hovering over the keyboard after tapping the search bar in Safari. Unsure of what to type, not even certain if he -should- attempt to look for answers to the questions floating around his skull. Anakin decided to switch gears, rubbing his face before logging into an app he hadn’t used in a while.

‘Long time, no see.’ He typed, scoffing to himself as he erased it.

‘Do me a favor-‘ Nope, no good either. He couldn’t be that direct about it after going into hiding from you.

“Fuck this.” He grumbled, tugging at his hair with one hand as he sucked on his labret jewelry, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Stupid bitch isn’t worth the trouble anyway. Right? Some damn doctor.”

Anakin stormed back inside the bar’s employee entrance, walking through the back room before popping his head around the door frame that led behind the bar. He didn’t see her anymore, but he did see a very stern faced April waiting for him with his apron.

“Don’t give me shit right now okay?” Anakin growled, snatching the apron and tying it on.

“What is your problem?” April hissed, clasping her hand around his arm, pushing him into the backroom.

“The hell? What is *your* problem?” Anakin shot back impatiently.

“You’re not yourself. Not to mention whatever the fuck that was with that lady!” April whisper yelled.

“Not your damn problem. Get back and let me go back to work.” He huffed, trying to shoulder his way past her.

“Absolutely not. That woman is still out there, thought you were going to quit if she was here when you got back.” She challenged him with a scowl.

“Whatever, I’m not letting some dumb whore drive me away from my job.” Anakin muttered tiredly, running a hand through his hair before crossing his arms.

“I figured as much.” April said with a tone of voice that seemed almost relieved. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but I need you to get it dealt with okay?”

“Jesus, why’s everyone on my ass lately?” Anakin barked, a little too loudly, catching the attention of one or two bar patrons. April sighed and shut the back room door for privacy.

“Because we’re worried about you!” She said seriously.

“No one asked you to be!” He yelled back, clenching his left hand into a fist. He brought it up to April’s face and slowly unfurled his pointer finger to poke her forehead with more force than necessary. “My girl is the only person who has the right to worry about me. Okay? And she knows I’m doing just fine.”

“Really? You’re sure? Because I thought friends were supposed to look out for each other.” April retorted, unconvinced by Anakin’s words and display.

“You’re not my fucking friend. You’re my coworker.” He snarled, untying his apron once more and dropping it to the ground. “I don’t have to listen to whatever speech you and Trevor cooked up. Can you handle the bar by yourselves tonight? Cause I can’t be here right now.”

“Why not? Too big a pussy to let us see some bitch get under your skin?” She taunted him, leaning forward. “Bet your little girlfriend would be real disappointed in her man if she knew that’s all it took to make you give up your own stomping grounds.”

“Shut the hell your mouth.” He growled out, teeth bared like a dog prepared to bite. “Get the fuck out of my way.” Anakin pushed past her and took long strides to reach his station at the bar, washing up and going straight back to work like he hadn’t just thrown a hissy fit. He couldn’t allow a woman to put him in his place, especially when that woman wasn’t you.

Meanwhile you laid on the couch at home in the comfort of your apartment. It’d be relaxing if not for the pile of laundry that seemed to never end. Taking a break had turned into an hour long rest with your feet kicked up and the tv blaring some nonsense. It was nice to have nothing to think about for the time being. No worries about Ghost or Anakin, both of them, one of them? Are they a them? No. He’s not. He’s one man.

One man who split himself in two.

How hard would it be to sew those halves back together? Could it even be done? Or had the separation caused a major divide within him, like magnets repelling each other. Sure, they can get close, but they may never click into place again like they were meant to.

You wouldn’t know until you tried. If you could convince him to allow it. But that seemed impossible at the moment, considering how he wouldn’t even entertain the possibility of a conversation about it…

There you go, worrying about it all again. Your mind never allowed you much peace anymore. Things used to be so much simpler, gods how you missed that. The warmth of Anakin when he would come home and hold you. The searing heat of Ghost’s eyes burning into your flesh. Both tangible. Both completely different.

They were oil and water at the beginning, repelling each other with all their strength, but even oil and water can be mixed if shaken well enough. There’ll still be small bubbles of oil, floating around the water, but it wouldn’t be nearly as cumbersome as an entire layer of oil skimming the surface of the water. It’d be more manageable, for the both of you.

One side of him was certain to catch fire. Though at this point you weren’t sure which. The well put together and loving boyfriend? Or the masked man who’s made it his mission to have you no matter what, a masked man who always carries a knife and never missed an opportunity to show you that he’s in charge?

“I need a drink.” You groaned, rubbing beneath your eyes to find that your body had betrayed you, small water droplets of salty tears sat in the corner of your eyes. You stretched and shook your head, disappointed in your own inability to keep yourself off the edge of the path you believed you were meant to take.

Your own path. One you could stroll down without worrying about anything at all, because the man you loved would be right behind you. The path lined with lillies of all colors, bright and clear skys, rolling waves of grasses in the distance, beauty as far as the eye can see. All yours. You just had to find it first.

Reaching the kitchen cabinet, you hesitated when seeing the wine glasses. There’s no reason you should use one. No one is home but you, it’s not like it’s practical to use anyway, especially if you’re planning on consuming enough to make a horse drunk. Lightly tapping the cabinet door, you halfway closed it and spun around to grab a wine bottle from the fridge, a delicious deep red.

Then, you swung your arm out to grip the handle of your favorite travel mug. The pretty patterned one that held almost a whole Brita pitcher of water. With the cork squeaking out from the place it was wedged in the neck of the wine bottle, you smiled to yourself, giving it one more tug. Finally graced with the glorious ‘bup-pop’ of the cork coming loose, you poured yourself a generous dose of big girl juice and snapped the lid down onto your cup.

You leaned down, sipping the cold red wine with vigor through the light pink straw. With the handle firmly in your grasp, you shuffled back to the couch and wrapped yourself in a blanket, deciding to choose a movie to watch. Kicking your feet up carelessly onto the coffee table, not even batting an eye at the pile of folded clothes that slid off into the floor. You weren’t in cleaning mode anymore, you were in ‘me time’ mode now. Focused solely on getting as drunk as a skunk.

“Dude, at this point I think I should probably just… I don’t know, skip town and go to the Bahamas.” You muttered, clicking your tongue rapidly to summon your four legged friend for emotional support and the valuable input she might be able to give.

As she curled up and purred against your leg, you sighed, scratched between her ears. The soft fur there was like a velvety worry-stone, petting her gave you a little peace among the storm raging inside of you.

“What do you think?” You asked, voice quiet and soft. Your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth to pull the straw in your big cup toward you. Taking a big swig of the wine, you sighed dramatically, letting yourself relax against the cushions of the couch.

Taking the tip of your cat’s ear between your fingers, you rubbed the soft, thin cartilage. Fur as smooth as the world’s softest moleskin; her ear twitching between the pads of your fingers.

“Could you be helpful, please?” You groaned, futile as it was, you almost wished that she’d meow in response, you’d even take a smack to the face. It would be better than the outward silence mixing in with the swirling vortex of conflicting opinions settling in your throat.

“So, it’s like this, right?” You sat up a little straighter, both hands on the cup between your palms. “You knew him before me. So it’s your fault for not telling me. We could’ve avoided all this fuss if you’d just moved those whiskers.”

”I don’t even wanna speak to you right now.” You huffed, holding up your cup with one hand to keep from dropping it while you went limp and let yourself slide down onto the floor, your legs beneath the coffee table. ”Just sit up there and keep being a sneaky little bitch.”

”Can’t believe you. Fraternizing with the… enemy? For so long!” You whipped your head around leaning back against the front of the couch and resting your head near her stomach. “You let him into the house! Aren’t pets supposed to be protective? It’s all your fault.” You sniffled, not yet realizing your eyes were watering.

”I’m too tired to even hold my head up to watch this stupid shit.” You scowled, angrily wiping away a tear that leaked out. Grabbing the remote, you turned it off, purposely knocking off the rest of the clothes from the coffee table. You weaseled your upper body beneath the glass coffee table, unlocking your phone to lay it screen down on the glass to comfortably watch your silly little shit while you laid there like a lazy dog. Just as you got comfortable, you realized the flaw in this plan was your big cup with its big straw. You’d have to turn your head to drink your wine and that just wasn’t going to work.

”Oh my god!” You huffed, pushing against the front of the couch and you straightened out on the rug, coming out from under the coffee table on the other side. Clumsily clamoring to a standing position, you trudged to the kitchen cabinet, searching for a different cup.

Funny how you had the energy to find a more suitable drinking glass, but not the energy to tilt your head to the side or look at the actual tv screen. Priorities, you supposed, rolling your neck on your shoulders after craning it to reach high into the cabinet. Out of all the options, none of them fit the bill for your needs. Melting to the cold tile in the kitchen, you slid into a kindling position with your forehead pressed against the cool stainless steel of the dishwasher. You rested there for a moment before shuffling on your knees to the fridge, pulling it open to grab the bag of shredded cheese.

There, in the door of the fridge, you found a perfect solution to your ‘drinking problem’. A Gatorade bottle with a twisty top. Snatching it up, you stood a bit too quickly and dizzied yourself, swaying on your feet as you grabbed an empty cup to pour the Gatorade out into. Without even rinsing the bottle, you transferred the wine over and snapped the lid back in place on your adult sippy cup. You made it back to the coffee table before having to spin around and go back, closing the door of the fridge.

Settled beneath the glass coffee table, a blanket over your lower half where you’d propped your legs up onto the couch, you turned the Gatorade bottle up and took a long pull of wine from the small opening, squeezing the bottle’s side to squirt more into your mouth before you swallowed and used your opposite hand to sprinkle shredded cheese over your open lips.

After a while of rinse and repeating these actions, your cat settled into a loaf position above you on the glass tabletop. She looked down at you with a judgemental stare, silently scolding you for the way you were acting.

“Don’t you dare judge me.” You coughed out, covering your eyes with the crook of your elbow over your face. “You’re just as bad as me! All it took was a few treats and you made friends with a fucking serial killer!” You sobbed, full chest heaving breaths that caught in your throat halfway down.

“Hello mental institution, take me away!” You wailed in hysterics, the last of your composure and majority of your sanity leaked out along with the tears pooling on the floor beneath your head at a rapid rate. “I’m an idiot who willingly let herself be an accomplice to murder! I’ve killed a man! I thought I was cheating on my boyfriend and I was totally okay doing it! Turns out I was cheating on my boyfriend, WITH my boyfriend! Who kills people! For fun!”

”While I’m confessing my sins I may as well do them all, huh?” You said aggressively to whatever powers that may be listening, if any at all existed.

“In first grade, I blamed Todd for killing the class fish, but it was my fault!” You sniffled, wiping snot across your face. “I put soap in the filter, a whole shit load of it!”

”When I was in fourth grade, I hit this girl with my mountain bike while going down the big hill near our house. Totally gross, peeled off part of her knee skin.” You took a halting breath, washing down the bile that threatened to crawl up your throat with a quick chug of wine. “I said it was an accident, but I did it on purpose cause I hated her for getting the Lizzie McGuire makeup thingy before I did, and when I finally got it, she ATE my damn chapstick like a fuckin’ lunatic! Who does that?”

”I worked hard at that stupid, sweaty fucking yard sale to get enough cash for the damn thing and when I get to show it off to her and prove I was just as good as she was, she said, ‘mm the strawberry one tastes good, can i have it?’. What the fuck? She just grabbed it and rolled it up and ate it like a toddler eating a glue stick.” You scoffed, hiccuping before shoving a small handful of shredded cheese in your mouth, complete with the salty tang of the palm sweat that came along with a mental breakdown.

Sure, you had a little bout of lunacy when you killed that guy, in self defense, you reminded yourself. But this was completely different. You didn’t crawl into yourself and hide away. No. It was like all this emotional turmoil was boiling you from the inside out and the only way to save yourself was to pull the lid off the pot and pray it didn’t spill over the sides.

“Luke’s cat.” You sobbed, curling up and rolling onto your side. “I just couldn’t stand seeing him so…” A long, self loathing groan left your lips. Your mouth open but lips connected by a thin line of saliva.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time Anakin left work. He was tired. Angry. Irritated. All he wanted was to go home and sink himself inside that velvet cunt waiting for him there. Alas, as a man with shit to do, he had to get that shit done. Passing by the apartment building, he paused in the middle of the road, lightly tapping the breaks when he realized your apartment’s lights were still on.

“Still up?” He furrowed his brows, pulling his phone from the cup holder of his car before remembering he’d gotten rid of the cameras. “Damn.” He muttered, shaking his head and cutting the wheel hard to the right, whipping into the parking lot to shut the car off and make his way up the fire escape to take a peek in your window.

What he found was a shock, to say the least. He’d never seen you in such a state before and if it weren’t for the loud and clear snores bouncing off the walls and into his ears, he’d have thought you were dead. Sprawled out on the rug, a dark red stain by your head and a Gatorade squeeze bottle of wine in your hand, clutched to your chest like a teddy bear. You’d drunk yourself to sleep. He couldn’t believe it. He was absolutely floored.

He knocked on the window with the back of his hand, loudly, hoping to stir you awake. Your slumbering body didn’t even flinch.

”Fuck me running.” He mumbled under his breath. He hated having a change in his plans, but what kind of monster would leave their girl in such a state without helping?

With a huff, he trudged back down the steps and slid down the ladder at the bottom, landing on booted feet with a grunt. What happened to the Anakin who was always prepared? The Anakin that carried all the tools he needed, he cursed at himself as he stomped toward the door, typing in the door code only to have it flash red at him.

“The fuck?” He breathed out, tugging on the door handle before typing in the code again. Flashing red light glowed in the darkness of the early morning hours once again. “Are you FUCKIN” kidding me?” He barked, pulling the door handle hard enough that the entire door rattled when he released it.

Pulling out his phone, he glanced down at the date. The door code had changed that morning. As it did on time, every time. Only, he was so in his head that he had completely forgotten about it. When did he begin to unravel like this? He should’ve never forgotten something like that, he simply shouldn’t have. He’s… he’s HIM. Angrily, he kicked the bottom of the door and called up the super for the building.

”Can you give me the new door code? I forgot to check on my way out.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose when the super asked his name. “Skywalker. Don’t you have all your tenet’s numbers?” He scoffed.

“Security stuff.” The super replied sleepily, obviously annoyed at having been woken up. “What’s the… key number?” He sniffed.

Anakin looked down at his key reading the engraved number on his apartment key. “Z3287.”

“5309.” With that said, the call dropped and Anakin heard the line go dead on the other end. Typing the new door code into the keypad while muttering under his breath. He jogged up the steps to your apartment and walked in, taking in the very strong scent of spilled wine.

“Okay.” He sighed, kicking off his shoes and locking the door behind him. He walked over and pulled you out from under the coffee table by hooking his hands under your armpits.

“Up we go doll.” He grunted, pulling you into his arms while he crouched down to gather up your limp body. “Goin’ to bed. Like you should’ve done earlier.” He murmured, kissing your forehead.

Once in your room he laid you on the bed, going to the dresser to retrieve a clean set of pajamas. He tossed them on the bed and grudgingly went across the hall to the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth and wetting it. Wringing it out, he set to work on cleaning up your face, neck and hands. But before he could gently wipe at your cheek, he got a really good look at your face.

”Who made you cry?” He asked, grabbing your chin to turn your head from one side to the other.

He was gentle with his grip, not really asking the questions in hopes you’d answer. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he might’ve been the cause behind your sorry state. Clicking his tongue, he went back to work, gently wiping your face.

“Alright doll, let’s get you out of these.” He grunted, trying to be gentle with your limp form as he pulled off your shirt and tugged down your shorts and panties.

He paused, tempted to…

No. No. Not right now. He’s busy. Anakin reminded himself that this was only a pit stop. He had an errand to run.

“C’mon babydoll.” He grunted, trying his best to be gentle as he dressed you, but you seemed even more limp and ragged than you did the night he drugged you. Were you really that drunk? That tired? “Work with me here sweetheart.”

”Quit.” You muttered in your sleep, your arm flopping over the edge of the mattress to dangle like a noodle.

”Feisty brat even in your sleep, huh?” He chuckled lightly, pulling you toward the middle of the bed to make sure you didn’t roll off in your deep slumber.

”Ghost?” You halfway lifted up your head and slurred the single word so badly it was almost intelligible, your eyes still completely shut.

Anakin froze, his hand recoiling from your body like you’d scorched his fingertips. He didn’t speak, standing completely still, unconsciously holding his breath to keep as silent as possible. It felt like a full day had passed by the time your body lost it’s tension and melted back into the deep sleep you were in before he’d startled you.

After that, Anakin hit the floor running, making a quick escape through the front door so quickly he almost failed to make sure your door was locked. He absolutely could not let you catch him there, he didn’t want to explain himself and he really didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that you were asking for the facet of himself he was tucking into his back pocket.

“Come on.” Anakin groaned in annoyance, smacking his right cheek lightly to keep himself awake. It was nearly 3:30 AM and he hadn’t had a wink of sleep. He’d been high wired since he started his shift at the bar nearly 9 hours ago.

Currently he was fighting his sleepiness tooth and nail with a Monster Energy and chain-smoking until his new pack of cigarettes were down to just three left. The home in front of him was on the outer west side of the city, a nicer subdivision, one he hadn’t even known existed until that night. Such a nice subdivision that he had to park nearly a block away and walk around the brick barrier and wrought iron gate to enter through the bushes continuing the barrier to prevent unwanted vehicles in the area.

The home was brick, two stories. A modern structure with huge floor to ceiling windows in the living room. Only a pretentious bitch like this one would want a feature that showed off the uncomfortable and ugly, yet presumably expensive furniture, decor and fireplace in the living area.

“God this is so fuckin’ boring.” He huffed impatiently. This stakeout was lackluster compared to the countless nights he spent watching you. It was exciting, fulfilling, giving him purpose.

This just felt like a job, a stupid chore that he just had to get done.

Each house here was protected by a high quality security system. Cameras, motion sensors, automatic locks and door codes. To add to the safety features, there was also a CCTV camera fitted to every fifth street light. All provided by the same security company: Westside Watch. This made Anakin’s plan easier in someways, extremely difficult in others.

Once he’d completed his scan of the area and jotted down his findings, he stood up, knees crackling in protest when he stretched and shoved his laptop back into his bag.

“Baby, just go back to sleep.” Anakin grumbled, swatting your hand away as you tried to wake him up for the fourth time that morning.

“It’s 11:00, are you sick?” You said in a quiet voice, the back of your hand coming down to feel his forehead for the second time. He didn’t stop you this time, letting you feel that his temperature was normal.

”I’m just tired.” He huffed. “Up late.” He mumbled, falling asleep before he could take another breath.

Around 3:00 in the afternoon, Anakin finally emerged from the bedroom, looking like a hermit who hadn’t seen the sun in over a year. His hair was stuck to the nape of his neck and forehead, plastered there with sweat. Circles under his eyes so dark it looked like he’d forgotten to wash off his usual light touch of under eye kohl.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Ani.” You snickered, standing up from the nest you’d made of pillows and blankets on the couch.

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny it hurts.” He grumbled. Clearly he was still much too tired for conversation.

”Do me a solid sweetheart.” He sighed, rubbing his hands together. “I need a fuckin’… beer and a fuckin’ McGriddle.”

”That’s… unfortunately not something I can do.” You said, picking up your phone from the couch arm to show him the time.

”No way.” He snorted, in disbelief that he’d slept so late. “Shit, I was set on that for breakfast.”

”I can make pancakes and sausage?” You offered apologetically. “It’s basically-“

”It’s so not ‘basically’ the same thing.” He groaned, running a hand down his face and bending backwards, back arching as he stretched his arms out behind his head. “I suppose I could be persuaded to eat it, since you’ll be the one making ‘em.” He gave you a small uptick of his lips, not really a smile, not really a smirk.

”I can do that.” You nodded, pleased to see he was slowly coming out of his grumpiness.

“Thanks babydoll.” He roughly tugged you against him, his hand on the back of your head as he gave you a peck on the forehead. “Gotta go shower, I reek.”

“Only a little.” You snorted. Though it wasn’t really truthful. You were armpit height to him and it was abundantly clear he’d sweat like he was running a marathon in his sleep.

Once he was fresh and clean, he walked through the apartment in just his boxers, plopping himself down onto the couch, manspreading and claiming ownership of the remote.

“Would you hate me if I smoked inside?” He asked suddenly. Leaning forward with a loan grunt to swipe his nearly empty pack of cigarettes.

“No…” You shook your head, plating the ‘breakfast’ you’d made, giving him a generous amount of syrup in a small dip cup. “You feeling okay?”

”Just… y-yeah.” He cleared his throat, lighting one up and taking a long drag, the red hot cherry crawling up the end of the paper casing. “Can’t be bothered to go out. I’d have to put on clothes, fuckin’ cold out there.”

“True,” You nodded, accepting out without further question as you slid the plate down onto the low glass table in front of him. “Still want beer?”

”Of course.” He said, the tone of his words making it sound like he was answering a stupid question.

“Hey, did you ever hear from that realtor friend of Luke or whatever?” He asked curiously, tearing off a piece of pancake to dip into the syrup.

“No, not yet.” You shook your head, giving him a raised eyebrow, trying to prompt him to elaborate on his line of thinking.

“When we start looking, lets try some subdivisions, yeah?” He said, clearly not planning to look for anything else.

“Why?” You asked, kind of surprised by his response. You knew he grew up in one but you had remembered he didn’t particularly like it.

”Safety reasons, most of ‘em are like gated communities, good security and stuff.” He shrugged like he hadn’t been researching them last night.

“I mean, I appreciate your concern for safety but I’m not super keen on having close neighbors.” You said, a slight grimace on your face as you cuddled up next to him while he ate.

“Well too bad, you’re gonna be the brunch mom and I’ll be the cul-de-sac cook-out dad.” He snorted, one cheek puffed up as he chewed his food. “It’ll be fine.”

You frowned, really not amused by his lighthearted response. This was your house too and you wanted input on where it was and what it looked like. You’d be spending hundreds of dollars on it each month in payments. It was baffling that Anakin was being so nonchalant and passive about finding the home you’d raise your kids in.

“I can hear you breathing like you’re annoyed.” He mumbled, tugging a lock of your hair.

“I am annoyed.” You huffed, swatting his hand away from your hair.

“Just give it a try, would you?” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “I wanna take a look at the layout and stuff. Most of those homes are built by the same contractors. They all have a similar layout.”

”I’m not asking you to just let me have full reign over it. Jesus, you’ll have your opinion considered.” He shook his head in irritation, not liking you were questioning his wishes.

“Look, even if you do hate the idea of living in a gated community, seeing the houses, floor plans, it’ll be good for getting ideas on the kind of place we want. You know?” He explained, trying to keep his voice on the encouraging side.

“I just don’t like that you want the decision making to be left up to you.” You muttered, sitting up and crossing your arms.

“Would you want a child in charge of house hunting?” He snapped at you, gesturing to your defensive posture.

“Tell me you didn’t just say that.” You glared at him.

“I said it and I meant it. Act like an adult and I’ll give you adult privileges; like having an opinion.” He said, tone snarky and frustrated. Obviously he hadn’t shook off all his shitty attitude.

”Maybe we’ll find a place you really love, you won’t know until we go looking. If you really fuckin’ hate the subdivision thing, maybe we can steal one of the house plans of a place you like and build elsewhere.” He said, grabbing you by the inner thigh to tug you back over to him, making sure you stay close despite being upset with him.

Diary Entry:

Can’t you just listen? God you were really pushing back on me today. I was giving you options and not a damn one of them was good enough.

I just want to be able to get a feel for the layout, alright? It’ll make my life easier. I’ll be able to touch the security system panel, familiarize myself with the physical version, rather than the digital diagram. I shouldn’t have to explain myself all the damn time. Act right.

@tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @demieyesore @hemmoxloser @ahano @astarionsgirl @popcosmi @purriteen

[monstersholygrail]

Long ago you had gotten into some trouble with the gods, being the mischievous little Cat Hybrid you are. You had actually managed to trick one of the Gods in a deal. A deal where you ended up earn everything and they ended up looking like a fool. At the time you were astonished and quite prideful. To trick a God was no small feat. But that quickly came to regret your trickery, even if you couldn’t help it.

The Gods decided that the best course of action was to punish you, of course. They couldn’t let you walk free, spreading word you had humiliated one of their own. So they made sure you could only trick mortals by trapping you within the confines of a ‘Hero’s Trial’ that once entered cannot be left. There you’d live for eternity using your wits to mislead heroes intent on proving themselves.

Eventually you lost count of the years you had been stuck within the trail. You were bored and restless. While it was fun tricking silly humans they always ended up dying. So your job became a little bit of a downer. Until he appeared. You didn’t pay him any mind at first. You thought he’d die like all the others. While he intrigued you with his own wit and cleverness, you didn’t have high hopes. The odds not in his favor.

That is until a year later when he returns at the start of your trial. You immediately perk up on the stone gate you rest upon, remembering him immediately. He made enough of an impression for that. You look him over, noticing his weakened stated. Armor torn and barely a weapon in sight. Yet he was returning to do the trial again.

“Why have you returned?” You ask, your tone demanding the truth. The air was knocked out of you as he smiles at you weakly, barely standing from the extent of his injuries. Yet his eyes glittered with adoration.

“To see you, of course,” he replies simply but you find your cheeks still turning red.

The rest of the exchange is a flurry of back-and-forth. The banter and ease in which you two talk is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced. You tricked a damn God! How could a mere human ever manage to keep up with you. But… he did. And as he walked back into the trial you can feel your heart breaking. A deep longing filling you to the brim. With his injuries and lack of protection you’re sure this time he’ll perish. There’s no way, right?

Another year passes with no hope and so much hurt. But butterflies burst in your belly when the day comes that he appears back at the start of your trial. He had somehow survived. He actually did it! With none of the grace your cat hybrid nature demands, you jump off the gate. Your human meets you just past the entrance where you two crash into each other in a fierce embrace.

“You have returned,” you breathe out with relief, your claws digging into his skin in your excitement. It’s then you realize he now has even less armor on than before.

“I’ve come to see you,” your human croaks, his voice tired but just as relieved as your own.

You lean back enough to look at his face, eyes flickering over his rugged features. He looks back at you as if you are the sun and he is the moon destined to forever remain in your orbit. You can’t explain the wave of emotions that wash over you in that moment as he confirms he’s come back to you all over again. You don’t know where to begin explaining how much it means to you. So you stop trying to explain.

As if one mind and one heart, you and your human move in at the same time, your mouths meeting in a passionate kiss. Your hands roaming along each other’s bodies with a familiarity that shouldn’t be there for two people who are only now touching for the first time. Yet it feels as if you’ve done this with him a million times. And you two share a night of passion and ecstasy before he continues off in the trial.

Years pass, one after the other, and every year your human returns to you. Proving to you time and time again the lengths and depths of his devotion to you, a sly Cat Hybrid. You count the years that pass now, not only remaining aware but keenly so. As each time your human returns with a little less armor, a weak weapon he must’ve found somewhere or none at all, his skin a little more wounded, and his mortal body a little older.

As time goes on, you grow more insistent, begging him to stop returning to the start, and still never fully understanding why he’s returned just to see you. Not when it hurts him so. Not when it hurts you to see him struggling while you have no possible way of helping him. You’re trapped to remain at the start, never allowed to go behind or beyond its entrance.

“Please, you must stop this,” you beg one night as the two of you lay under the stars, bare bodies tangled up in each other.

Your hand caresses his chest, right over his heart and his gaze softens. It’s an argument you’ve had time and time again but his patience and understanding with you remains.

“I cannot. How else will I see you?” He asks softly, lifting a hand to brush some of your hair back. You instinctively lean into his hand, nuzzling into him as you begin to purr.

Your eyes flutter shut as his words seep into you. An ache settling over your heart. The weight of his words has you shaking your head. A part of you wanting to be selfish, to keep him with you for as long as possible. But your love for him quickly overpowers it.

“Indeed you cannot. For if you see me again you will surely perish,” you whisper tearfully, your claws lifting to softly caress the forming lines on his face that begin to show his age.

Something akin to heartbreak flashes across his features. But just as soon as it comes it leaves, replaced with his usual understanding. A glimmer in his eye shows he’s close to tears as well. Needing your touch he takes your wandering hand in his, kissing it tenderly.

“Fine… If that is what you wish. Just don’t cry, my love,” he whispers, voice breaking as he speaks.

The two of you move as one, leaning in to fitting your lips together in a searing kiss. Losing yourselves to a needed final night of love and passion. Treasuring each other and the time you’d had. Knowing this will be his last time through the trial.

Another year passes at a snails pace. Never realizing how lonely you had been before meeting your lover. His love and utterly endless devotion changing you to your very core. For the first time in your very long life, the punishment the Gods had given you felt exactly like that… a punishment.

Eventually the leaves begin to turn orange and brown once more. The flicker of excitement inside your chest at the idea your lover would be here soon quickly flutters and dies to a lonely ember. Remembering once again that he was never to come back.

So when you see a strangely familiar form through your blurry tear-filled vision, you swear you must be seeing things or simply dreaming. But a quick swipe to your eyes has reality crashing down on you.

A gasp escaping from your throat to see your love stumbling toward you, clutching his stomach with his hand outlined in red against his tunic. He’s silent for a moment before something gurgles in his throat and he begins to choke.

You scramble off your perch, landing on the ground with a sickening thud. Your heart lies still in your stomach, unable to beat as you try to stand. The two of you rush toward each other just past the entryway to the trial. A strangled cry leaves him as he collapses in your arms and the two of you instantly crumble onto the ground, the leaves scattering around you.

“What are you doing here?!” You scream through broken sobs, frantically wiping away tears so that you may better see him. A rattling wheeze leaves him as he lifts a hand to softly brush the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m here to see you… one… last… time,” he rasps, cupping your cheek and bringing your forehead down to rest against his. The difference between his cold and your warmth is chilling. Unbearable. You can’t take it, you’re very being threatening to fall a part as you feel his final breath ghost across your face. His eyes never once leaving yours.

You throw your head back, letting out a cry mournful enough that it shakes the heavens. You can sense their leering eyes peering down on you. Oh, how they must be relishing in their revenge. Your tongue cannot be stopped as you spout endless curses at them.

Despising them as they must despise you, their punishment finding affect even now. For even if you didn’t mislead and trick your lover within the trial itself. You always tricked him into coming back. You must’ve. Somehow. His devotion too pure, his love too endless to be anything but the result of a trick. It couldn’t be real.

You couldn’t handle losing anything that real.

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Mydei x (fem) reader x Phainon

Taking care of them while their drunk

The lively atmosphere of the tavern was beginning to die down as the night stretched on. Most patrons had already stumbled home, but two familiar figures remained seated at a corner table, both looking far too pleased with themselves.

Y/N stood nearby with her arms crossed, watching the unfolding disaster with exasperation.

“You two are unbelievable.”

Phainon grinned, raising his empty mug in triumph. “Unbelievably strong, you mean!” He hiccuped. “I told you, Mydei, you can’t outdrink me. I am victorious!”

Mydei, slumped slightly over the table, lifted his head with a scoff. His normally sharp gaze was unfocused, and his face was faintly flushed. “You’re not victorious… You’re just… full of hot air.”

Phainon gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”

Y/N let out a tired sigh. “Alright, that’s enough. We’re leaving.”

Mydei groaned, pressing his forehead against the wooden surface. “Too… heavy.”

Phainon waved a hand. “Let him sleep here. I’ll stay and protect his honor.”

Y/N grabbed both of their arms, hoisting them up. “Neither of you are staying here. I am not dealing with the consequences of leaving you in a tavern overnight.”

Phainon blinked down at her, swaying slightly. “You’re… so small.” Then, as if coming to an epiphany, he turned to Mydei. “Why is she so small?”

Mydei, still clearly drunk, squinted at Y/N like he was trying to solve a complex puzzle. “She’s not small… We’re just too big.”

Phainon gasped again, as if this was the greatest revelation of the night. “That makes so much sense.”

Y/N rubbed her temples. “I swear, I’m going to throw you both into a ditch.”

With great effort, she managed to haul both of them up, throwing one of their arms over her shoulders. It wasn’t easy considering how tall and broad they were, but sheer determination (and irritation) kept her moving.

As they stumbled toward the exit, Phainon suddenly perked up. “Wait, wait, wait—should we go on an adventure?”

Y/N didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“But Y/N,” Phainon whined, “imagine it! We, the great warriors, on a secret mission in the dead of night—”

“We are on a mission,” she interrupted. “The mission is getting you two to bed before you do something stupid.”

Phainon pouted but allowed himself to be led outside. Mydei, on the other hand, was muttering under his breath. Y/N turned slightly. “What?”

“…I could carry you home,” Mydei slurred, half-lidded eyes glancing at her. “It’d be easier than this.”

Y/N scoffed. “You can barely stand.”

Mydei frowned as if that was a personal attack.

They made their way down the cobblestone streets, Y/N practically dragging them along. Phainon, despite his drunken state, seemed to be enjoying himself, humming a tune and swinging their arms like a child.

At one point, he gasped dramatically. “Y/N!”

She nearly tripped. “What?”

“I have an idea.”

She braced herself. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But it’s a great idea.”

“No, it’s not.”

Phainon leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What if… I climbed on Mydei’s shoulders? And then you climbed on mine? We’d be unstoppable.”

Y/N deadpanned. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Mydei, however, seemed to be considering it. “Hmph… We would be taller…”

Y/N groaned. “No one is climbing anyone! Now, walk.”

Finally, they reached her home. With a final burst of strength, Y/N shoved them inside, slamming the door behind them. Mydei flopped onto the couch like a ragdoll, arms hanging limply. Phainon, on the other hand, latched onto Y/N the moment she let go of him.

“You’re so nice,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

Y/N rolled her eyes, prying him off. “Sit down. Both of you.”

Phainon pouted but obeyed, sinking onto the couch beside Mydei, who had his head tilted back with his eyes closed. Y/N hurried to grab some water, handing each of them a cup.

“Drink. You’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t.”

Phainon took a sip before setting the cup aside and throwing himself sideways—right into Y/N’s lap.

She froze.

“Ah, perfect,” Phainon murmured, closing his eyes. “You’re soft.”

Mydei’s eyes snapped open.

There was a tense silence before Mydei reached forward, grabbed Phainon by the collar, and yanked him back.

“Oi.” His voice was low. “Get off her.”

Phainon blinked at him. “But she’s comfy.”

Mydei narrowed his eyes before, to Y/N’s complete and utter disbelief, he leaned over and rested his head against her shoulder.

Y/N stared down at him, stunned. “What are you doing?”

Mydei muttered something incomprehensible, arms loosely crossing over his chest as he settled against her.

Phainon let out an exaggerated gasp. “Are you stealing my spot?”

“I’m reclaiming what’s mine,” Mydei muttered.

Phainon squinted at him before throwing himself at Y/N’s other side. “Fine, I’ll just share.”

Y/N sighed.

She was now sandwiched between two ridiculously strong and clingy warriors, both of them completely unapologetic about it. Phainon had draped an arm over her, and Mydei, while more reserved, refused to move from his position.

“This is going to be a long night” she muttered.

Mydei hummed sleepily. “Mm… you’ll get over it.”

Phainon chuckled. “You love us.”

Y/N sighed, but a small smile played at her lips. “Yeah, yeah.”

They would absolutely regret this in the morning, but for now, she let them have their moment.

Y/N sighed as she glanced down at the two men leaning against her, Phainon snuggled up on one side while Mydei rested against her shoulder on the other. Their breathing had evened out slightly, though the weight of both of them was starting to make her shoulders ache.

She huffed, shaking her head with a fond smile. “What am I going to do with you two?”

Her fingers moved almost instinctively, gently threading through their hair. Phainon let out a pleased hum, nuzzling into her touch, while Mydei barely reacted, though the tension in his shoulders loosened ever so slightly.

Y/N chuckled softly. “Big warriors, huh? You’re acting like children.”

After a few minutes of letting them relax, she shifted, earning a grumble from Phainon as he instinctively tightened his hold on her. Mydei, too, frowned slightly but didn’t protest when she carefully slid out from between them.

“Alright, come on,” she said, tugging at their arms. “You can’t sleep here. Let’s get you to bed.”

Phainon groaned dramatically, flopping backward. “But I don’t wanna moooove.”

Mydei muttered something under his breath, rubbing his face. “Tired.”

“I know,” Y/N said patiently, “but you’ll be more comfortable in an actual bed. Now come on.”

She managed to get Phainon up first, draping his arm over her shoulder and guiding him toward the guest room. He stumbled a bit but followed, half-asleep already. Once she sat him down on the bed, she turned back for Mydei, who was still sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

“Mydei,” she called gently.

He muttered something incoherent but made no move to get up.

Sighing, Y/N walked over and reached for his hand, tugging lightly. “Come on, let’s go.”

He exhaled deeply before finally standing, allowing her to lead him to the room as well.

Once she got them both onto the bed, she pulled the blankets over them, tucking them in. Phainon sighed in contentment, rolling onto his side, while Mydei simply let his eyes close, seemingly too exhausted to protest.

Y/N shook her head with a soft smile. “Sleep well, you idiots.”

As she turned to leave, a drowsy voice mumbled, “Thanks… Y/N.”

She glanced back to see Mydei barely peeking at her through heavy lids. Phainon, too, gave a sleepy grin.

She chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t throw up in the morning.”

With that, she left them to their well-earned rest, already bracing herself for the chaos they would bring when they woke up.

The next morning, Y/N woke up early, feeling well-rested despite the chaos of the previous night. She stretched, made herself a cup of tea, and relished the peaceful silence. But as she recalled how she'd had to practically babysit Mydei and Phainon, she smirked to herself. Those two were going to wake up with a killer headache—and, if things had gone the way she suspected, a bit of an unexpected surprise.

She peeked into the guest room, her suspicions confirmed.

There, tangled up in the blankets, were Mydei and Phainon—cuddling.

Phainon had somehow managed to throw a leg over Mydei, while Mydei’s arm was wrapped around Phainon’s waist as if holding him close for warmth. Their faces were almost comically peaceful, completely unaware of the position they had ended up in.

Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh, but it was no use. A snort escaped, followed by a full-blown giggle.

As if on cue, Mydei stirred, blinking blearily. His body shifted slightly, and it took a few seconds before realization hit him. His arm was around something. Something warm.

Slowly, he turned his head—only to be met with Phainon’s very smug, half-awake grin.

“Morning, sunshine,” Phainon drawled, still groggy.

There was a moment of silence.

Then—

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Mydei practically launched himself off the bed, tumbling onto the floor in a mess of sheets and limbs. Phainon cackled, stretching out as if this was the best wake-up he could’ve asked for.

“You looked so peaceful,” Phainon teased, propping his head on his hand. “Did I keep you warm all night?”

“You—!” Mydei's face was red, and Y/N was full-on laughing now.

“Oh, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” she wheezed. “I should’ve taken a picture.”

“You should have!” Phainon agreed, grinning. “Memory of a lifetime.”

Mydei, still flustered beyond belief, groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I’m never drinking with you again.”

Y/N, still chuckling, crossed her arms. “Oh, I don’t know. It was pretty entertaining.”

Phainon stretched lazily. “You hear that, Mydei? We should do this more often.”

Mydei’s glare could’ve burned a hole through him.

Y/N just smiled. “Breakfast, anyone?”

She walked off, still laughing to herself, while Mydei sat in silent regret and Phainon basked in the victory of the most hilarious morning yet.

[angelltheninth]

Can I request headcanons about how Arcane Steb, Vander, Jayce, Viktor, Silco, and Ekko would react to his shy gn crush confessing to him in private please?

You can, and I will luckily write some fluff today.

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Steb x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, love confession, co-workers to lovers, teasing, being shy

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Hope reading this makes you all feel warm and fluffy.

Viktor was suspicious of you when you asked him to stay in the lab even longer. Usually you'd be the one telling him that he needs to end work early and then walk home with him.

When you began acting all bashful about it and looking through the papers you'd been working on the whole day he was even more suspicious. Although you wanted to confess to him, your words failed you, so you went to your next plan. Handing him your notes you left him bewildered as he didn't even get to read them before he could read it. On it was your confession, and asking him if he wanted to go on a date sometime.

The next morning you arrived early and found his notebook on your desk. In it was a note from him, accepting your confession, but wishing you had been a bit more direct with your feelings as he isn't good at guessing how people are feeling.

"Seems like you beat me to the lab this morning. And you've had a chance to read my note, yes? I thought so, the way you blush doesn't lie. Since that is the case I will take some time off this weekend, we can go on that date you mentioned. I look forward to it, darling, I hadn't been on many dates, this will be interesting."

Jayce is very casually touchy with people so he didn't notice how much it flustered you. He knew you were a shy person so he assumed it was due to that you blushed easily. But he had been wrong before.

He never took himself as overly flirty so he didn't think you saw him that way either. But to you his actions, his casual touches, his soft smiles, his praise that made your heart skip a beat, was almost too much to handle. When you confessed to him in the empty hallways of the Academy you expected him to brush it off, but he was left stunned. For the first time it clicked with him, all those longing and bashful glances of yours.

As smart as he is he can be foolish sometimes and it seems like this is one of those times. There's a part of him that wants to kick himself for not noticing your feelings. The other part of him urges him to kiss you and assure you that he feels the same, even if it took him a confession from you to realize it.

"Pretty dumb of me isn't it? Well I never said I was the smartest when romance was involved. You give me too much credit, babe. Oh, was that too soon to call you that? We haven't been on a date yet but I felt like I had to kiss you or else you'd get the wrong idea. I know how wound up you get over the smallest stuff."

Ekko had a bit of a hard time noticing your feelings. He wants to be mindful of everyone around him, Because of that certain things get tangled up together.

Not to say that he was fully oblivious to your growing feelings, which might be why he started acting more protective over you. When you went on missions together you always stuck close together, watching each other's back. He was very lucky to have a strong person like you fighting alongside him. Which is why it was also hard for him to believe that you'd had such a hard time telling you that you were in love with him. For someone as cool as you it should have been easy.

Then again he is a lot like you in that regard. He was scared of hearing your confession, so he tried to avoid it, almost making you not say it at all. One of the last things he wants to do is to lose someone else when he just started loving them.

"Know this is gonna sound real stupid, Firefly, but it ain't you, it's me. I wanna be with you, trust me I do, and you, taking me by surprise in the middle of a flight and telling me that almost made me lose my footing. You sure know how to take a man by surprise. But hey, it's just one of the many things I like about you."

Vander knew you liked him but also knew you were too shy to say it. He felt like he shouldn't put any more pressure on you to do so either. When you felt like he it, he believed you'd find the courage.

And who knew that all it took was a bit of liquid courage on a late night that you spent closing up the bar with him. It wasn't like he planned on it, but one drinks turned into two and you started talking to each other. Listening to him praise your work and telling you how the kids liked being around you, combined with the drinks, gave you enough courage you needed to confess your feelings to him. The last thing you suspected was to hear he already knew of your feelings.

That was the last thing you remember before you passed out. When you woke up you were in his bed, while he slept on the old couch. Memories from the night before came flooding back, your confession. You were so embarrassed you wanted to quit your job.

"Now why would I fire a perfectly fine worker? Way I see it you caught feelings for your boss, is that right, darlin'? Think you'd be the first one to do that? No way, but you are the first that caught my eye, it's been a long time since that's happened. Hopefully one day you'll be able to confess without any alcohol in your system. Looking forward to that day."

Silco always knew you had feelings for him, even before he became the feared crime lord that he is. That was one of the reasons he kept you close. Well, that and the fact that he liked you too.

Being aware that you had feelings for him meant that he went to great lengths to keep them a secret, and his own feelings too. He might be feared but he is also hated. For your sake it might be better if he sent you away but he knew you were too stubborn to leave him. When things started to get more and more complicated you thought you might never get a chance to tell him how you feel if you didn't do it now. It wasn't so much a confession as it was a quick kiss which you then urged him to forget all about before running off.

Of course he wouldn't forget. But he would still keep his own affections on the downlow. At least for the time being it was better to keep your relationship a secret.

"You know as well as I do how many people want me dead. I don't want to put that same target on your back, darling. The reason I would like to keep us a secret is just so I can get things under control better. Once that happens I assure you that I'll be kissing you every day, until you get sick of me. Which might be a long time, I know we're both stubborn people."

Steb has always been the most calm and collected member of his team and that doesn't change when he realizes you have feelings for him. If anything he wills himself to act even calmer.

But he also makes sure that he isn't cold to you, especially to you, when you're trying very hard to admit your feelings for him. He sees that effort and doesn't want to take away from your big moment, even though he wishes that he could just confess himself. It's been a while since he's been in a relationship, not a ton of time for those. Since he doesn't have that much experience either he would rather follow your lead, your pace and when you have him alone, when you walk out with him after training and ask him out, he will say yes.

Although he would rather not make too big of a deal of your confession to him, he just can't help the way his face heats up. It feels like this is something he's been waiting for and now it's here.

"So much to think about in regards to our future date, angelfish. Let's see, I do know of a good spot, but they close before our shift ends. Perhaps I can put a good word in for us, have our shift end a little early before the week ends. It took bravery to ask me out, let me repay it in the best way I can and give you a date to remember."

[toyourheartandback]

SKINNY DIPPING (18+)

luke castellan x reader

in which luke loves winning

word count: 1.12k

MDNI! warnings: smut, handjob, fingering, swearing, nudity and reader has a female anatomy

a/n: i feel like i’m starting to have way too much fun writing smuts. hope you guys will enjoy it just as i much as i do!

you had made a bet with luke castellan. whoever won capture the flag could make the other do anything they wanted without negotiation or backing out. and that was how you found yourself on the edge of a small cliff, just outside of the protection of thalia’s tree, watching the head counselor of the hermes cabin strip in front of you.

“c’mon, beautiful” he said with a smug smirk on his face as he grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, tossing it aside without a care. you let your eyes scan his toned abs a bit longer than you intended as the moonlight highlighted the sharp lines and faded scars. “it’s not like i haven’t seen it before” he drawled, fingers now working at the button of his shorts.

your hands hesitated at the hem of your own shirt. “i swear, if anything happens, i’m cutting your balls off” you warned, voice sharp despite the heat creeping up your neck. luke only laughed, clearly enjoying every second of his victory while his gaze never left you as you reluctantly peeled off your clothes. then you were both bare in front of each other. you could see all those hours he spent training were definitely paying off as the sight alone made your stomach twist, heat creeping in places you didn’t want to acknowledge. luke wasn’t any better, looking at you with unmistakable lust.

you took the hand he offered, fingers tangling together as you stepped closer to the edge. “you okay?” luke gently asked, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. his dark eyes were as soft as his touch. the night breeze ruffled his curls and for a split second you almost forgot to breathe. the drop below wasn’t even terrifying, but the handsome boy in front of you was. then you smirked. “don’t be a pussy, castellan” and before he could react, you yanked him forward, pulling both of you off the edge.

you flew for only a few seconds before the icy water swallowed you whole and a firm grip pulled you upward. “asshole!” luke’s voice was sharp as he surfaced in front of you, his wet curls plastered to his forehead. his scowl would’ve been more intimidating if you weren’t still laughing, breathless from the jump. “oh, come on” you teased, grabbing his wrist as he let you tug him toward shallower water.

his hands pushed wet strands from your face before cupping your cheeks, his touch surprisingly gentle. his thumbs traced your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the water. “you’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he murmured, voice low and serious. your heart stuttered. his plump lips hovered dangerously close, so close you had to grip his biceps just to steady yourself. “you’re gonna be the death of me right now if you don’t kiss me” just as you whispered those words, luke crashed his lips against yours, claiming the space between you in an instant.

the kiss was desperate, heated, like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d ever admit. and gods, you kissed him right back. his tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing, demanding, but there was no real battle. you let him take control, let him deepen the kiss until your head spun. his hands roamed your body, before settling on your ass. a firm squeeze had you gasping, your hips instinctively yanking against his. luke groaned, low and rough, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “you must really like me,” you teased, still breathless, “if you can get this hard in cold water.” a breathless giggle escaped before you could stop it. his gaze stayed dark and intense. his lips found your sweet spot on your neck, sucking just enough to make your knees threaten to give out. “you know it’s more than that,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with something deeper than lust as he pressed himself against your stomach, letting you feel every inch of him.

one of his hands slipped between your bodies, fingers tracing slow and teasing circles on your clit. each stroke sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, your body unconsciously following his lead. your hand found his cock, fingers wrapping around his length and the moment you started twisting your wrist, luke let out a guttural moan against your ear. “fuck,” he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. the deep and desperate whines slipping from his lips alone had you aching for more. his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “you’re already making me regret not bringing a condom,” a breathless giggle escaped you, but it was short-lived because just as you captured his lips in a kiss, two of his fingers plunged inside you. you loudly gasped, gripping his shoulders as he pumped them mercilessly, curling just right to hit that spot that had your vision blurring. the water around you swayed violently, mirroring the rhythm of both your hands.

it felt like the world had stopped. all you could process was luke. his woodsmoke scent, his hand gripping your hair, his starved mouth on yours, the warm slickness of his precum as you stroked him, and the way his fingers worked you closer to the edge. “guys!” it yanked you both back to reality just as you were about to come undone. “shit,” luke groaned, his grip loosening as you pushed him away, your brows furrowing in sync. “are you there?” chris’s voice echoed through the bay, and you silently prayed to every god on olympus that your friends hadn’t see you getting fucked by the hermes counselor through the dense trees. “weren’t they suppose to come later?” you whispered, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. “i don’t know,” luke muttered, looking even more spooked than you. “but I’m currently trying to think about the oracle to make this boner go away.” a laugh burst from your lips before you could stop it.

a few moments later, when he looked composed enough, luke finally called out: “we’re down here!”. within seconds, your friends came crashing into the water, completely naked. as they splashed around, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. “you bet I’m gonna get the rest of my prize later,” his voice was low, teasing, but the dark smirk on his face promised he was dead serious. you always honored your bets, but something told you luke would make sure you never stopped losing to him.

[shinhyunjin]

── .✦ little white lies.

⟢ pairing: hwang hyunjin x female!reader

⟢ genre: fluff, non-idol au, established relationship

⟢ word count: 1.9k

⟢ summary: the one where a street interviewer asks the story of how you met.

⟢ author’s note: hello, everyone! i don’t really know what this is, but i clearly got the idea from @/meetcutesnyc on tiktok. i feel like i could maybe turn this into a short series and write one for the rest of the members if you like this one enough. anyway, this is my first fic on this blog, so if you enjoy it please do show it some love<3

“Excuse me, are you two a couple?”

You stop in your tracks at the question, staring at the stranger that was now blocking your way, as he stood in front of you and your boyfriend—a small mic in his hand and cameraman behind him recording the scene before him.

Your first instinct is to look up to Hyunjin, who is already tightening the hold of his hand on yours and pulling you closer to him.

“We are” he doesn’t hesitate to answer.

You find the confused yet protective crease between his eyebrows particularly cute right then, so you smile.

“Would you mind telling us the story of how you met?”

“Oh, you’re that guy?!” You jump in excitement.

Hyunjin’s frown only deepens for a moment, feeling like he is missing a chapter—or a whole book—when the guy in front eagerly nods his head and laughs at your sudden enthusiasm.

One look at you, however, and a glimpse of the smile lighting up your face, is enough for him to go with whatever it is happening right then.

“Baby, they make videos on TikTok asking couples how they met” you explain to him nonetheless, caressing the back of his hand with your thumb to ease the small tension he felt after seeing you interact so comfortably with another guy—a stranger one at that.

“Oh,” Hyunjin lets out, suddenly feeling embarrassed over how defensive he was until then. “We met at an art gallery” he tries to redeem himself by kindly answering the question.

“It was actually kinda funny” you add with a small giggle that has all three guys smiling at you.

“If that’s your way of saying we were one second away from committing a crime, then—”

“Oh, hush” you playfully shut him up, enjoying all too much the dramatic roll of eyes he gives you in response. “It wouldn’t have been a crime. I think”.

Your last addition earns a quiet chuckle from the cameraman, and you wonder if that’s making it into the final video.

“Long story short,” you begin. “I was admiring one of the sculptures, minding my own business, when out of nowhere someone bumped into me. I was caught off guard, of course, so I inevitably lost my balance and bumped into the base that was holding the sculpture” you can’t help but give your boyfriend an accusatory look. “I saw my life flash before my eyes when it started swaying in front of me”.

“I was fast enough to hold it in its place before it fell, though” Hyunjin chimes in before the blame is fully thrown at him. “And thankfully there were only, like, two other people in the room with us and they were too busy checking out the paintings on the walls, so after exchanging panicked looks with this cutie right here, we rushed out of there before we got scolded”.

“We laughed it off as soon as we were in the next room and we couldn’t care less about the stares we got” you explain amidst a small laugh. “It was kind of odd, in a good way, because it felt like we knew each other already”.

“Yeah, it was weird in the best of ways” Hyunjin agrees with an adoring smile. “I obviously wanted to get to know her after that, and I just happened to have an extra ticket to a paid exposition within the main one that day, so I offered it to her in order to apologise for bumping into her and she luckily said yes”.

“And then after that I invited him for coffee to thank him for the ticket”.

Hyunjin chuckles. “And then I asked her out for dinner that same night”.

“So it’s fair to say it was love at first sight?” The guy asks with a grin.

“Definitely” the two of you answer in unison, locking eyes at the realisation and smiling in a way that was hard to tell whether you were aware there were other people in the world.

“We pretty much got together that same day” you admit with a shy smile.

“How long have you guys been together?”

“Four years,” Hyunjin replies.

“Four years and two months” you specify, just for the sake of teasing him.

He smiles and bites his tongue not to add ‘and eleven days’, because that would only lead to you doing the math and figuring out the amount of hours as well, and then him having to figure out the amount of minutes if he wanted to win.

It is a battle you had gone through more than once already, and he refuses to go down that road again—not when there is a camera pointing at you and your whole interaction would be posted on the internet.

“Wow, that’s a long time” the man in front interrupts Hyunjin’s train of thought, bringing the mic closer to you. “What’s your favourite thing about him?”

“Oh, I don’t think I can choose just one” you timidly let him know, looking up to Hyunjin and feeling your cheeks burn as his chocolate eyes are already focused on you, awaiting for an answer. “I really love how sweet and attentive he is. He is always there for me and helps me get through my hardships, even before I even have to ask for his help”.

“And what is your favourite thing about her?” He now asks your boyfriend, who finds himself smiling brightly over your wholesome words and struggling to take his eyes away from you.

“Everything” Hyunjin replies truthfully once he manages to divert his eyes from you—just like you, finding it hard to choose just one thing he loves the most about you. “She’s the most caring and selfless person I’ve ever met. She’s always checking up on me and my family, making sure we’re all okay. And I also need to mention her smile, because whenever she smiles my day is immediately made”.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze and lean your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, unable to hide the emotional pout forming on your lips, as his answer managed to warm your heart.

“So what is the next step in your relationship?”

“Moving in together” Hyunjin answers in a heartbeat, and you are grateful that it doesn’t come off as a surprise, for you had talked about it before—otherwise your heart wouldn’t have been able to take the news of his upcoming plans with you. “We needed to figure a few things out before doing so, but…” he looks down at you, smiling sweetly when your eyes lock and you nod your head, encouraging him to go on. “It’s about time we finally start properly making our life together”.

“And your names are?”

“Y/N” you’re the first to answer.

“I’m Hyunjin” he says.

“Well, thank you so much for your time, Hyunjin and Y/N” the interviewer wraps it up with a smile. “I’m glad you guys are going strong and didn’t end up in jail that day”.

The two of you laugh, and you lean into your boyfriend when he lets go of your hand and gently places his arm over your shoulders instead.

Exchanging goodbyes after being informed that the video would be up the next day, you resume your walk to the all too familiar café around the corner—the one you were heading to before the impromptu street interview took place.

“So those are the kind of videos you’re watching all day…”

“Some of them,” you nod. “I’ve sent you a few here and there. Good to know you don’t actually watch them”.

“I do” he fights back, almost offended you believe he would ever disregard something you showed him. “I thought they were all staged, though. Didn’t know people actually got interviewed on the streets out of nowhere”.

“Is that why you were so defensive when they first approached us?” You laugh.

He huffs, making his bottom lip slightly stick out and having you internally fighting not to kiss him right then. “I thought he was asking if we were a couple in hopes of us not being one, so he could ask you out”.

“Asking me out out of nowhere when I’m walking hand in hand with a guy that is clearly my boyfriend, all while there is a whole cameraman recording us?” You tease with a tilt of your head.

“Hey, who knows?” he defends himself. “Can’t control what kind of weirdos are out there chasing after online views”.

“You’re so cute” you laugh breathily, pressing a soft kiss on his jawline. “We look too much like a couple, if you ask me. They would look stupid to even try”.

“Yeah… I think the hand holding and matching outfits give it away too well” he nods with a teasing smile, motioning to the colour palette you chose together that day.

“Thank God they caught us on a good outfit day” your relieved remark earns a laugh from him. “I can’t wait for the video to be up now, I love the way we met”.

“I know you do,” he softly rubs your hand with his thumb. “Which is why I was surprised you didn’t tell them the whole story”.

“What do you mean?” You frown.

Hyunjin amusedly shakes his head, remaining silent as you reach the café and he holds the door open for you to go in first.

When you’re invaded by the strong yet pleasing scent of coffee and reach the—thankfully—short line to order, he adds, “You left out the part where later on I admitted I intentionally bumped into you just so I could talk to you”.

You laugh at the memory.

It wasn’t like he wanted you to lose your balance and make you almost drop a sculpture that you would be paying until the end of your days, had it actually fallen down and smashed on the ground.

He was just going for a little shove on your shoulder with his own, just enough to make you turn around and allow him to apologise right after. But you were too pretty, and he was too nervous—that alone making him miscalculate the distance between your bodies and slam into your shoulder harder than he had intended to.

He came clean one month into your relationship—the guilt of almost getting you in trouble just because he wasn’t able to earn up the courage to go up and talk to you like any other normal person would, was becoming too much for him to keep a secret for any longer.

You were already in too deep by then to even care, though. If anything, you were flattered that he wanted to get to know you so bad that he ended up coming up with the most stupid—and risky—of ideas in order to do so.

“I thought you weren’t holding back when it came to embarrassing me” he confesses.

You chuckle, shaking your head in both amusement and embarrassment, before pulling him forward in line with you as the people in front do so as well.

“Well, if I did mention that, you would’ve told them about how I already had a ticket to the private exposition and lied about not having one just so I had a reason to stick with you, so…”

Hyunjin’s lips part into a beaming smile, pulling you to him and pressing a kiss to your temple.

Little white lies could sometimes be beneficial; especially when they led you to the best relationship you ever had—the one you were sure would last for the rest of your lives.

“You’re right” he agrees with a smirk. “The internet doesn’t need to know how desperate we both were to get to know each other”.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

If you feel like „It gets better“ was all a lie, this letter is for you: 

It’s understandable you feel that way. After all it felt like such an omnipresent promise for the young folks in lgbt+ spaces: hey, it gets better! The world is becoming a safer, more accepting place. Laws will change for the better and so will mindsets. We just need to wait it out while things move forward! …. But we just need to turn on the news and we see that promise not coming true. 

We see things going backwards, laws changing for the worse, queerphobic mindsets becoming more normalized. Trump in the US, the Afd in Germany, the scary far-right surge in so many countries: it’s very easy to find reasons to feel hopeless. 

I’m actually not going to tell you to stop feeling that way. These are frustrating, heartbreaking, scary times. Swallowing your pain and pretending it isn’t real, that would be horrible advice. You are allowed to feel disappointed or angry or even betrayed. In fact, you need to allow yourself to feel these feelings. 

But, and this is an important but, I’m also not going to tell you that you are right. Valid, yes, but not completely right. I still believe in „It gets better“. I don’t think it’s a lie. Maybe it’s just a little bit too short. 

It gets better - because we make it better. 

It gets better - because we fight for that. 

It gets better - and we need that hope to fuel the fight. 

Things are not just naturally going forward. We can’t just wait it out until it all magically gets better. Homophobia and transphobia won’t just die out as the time passes by. And that’s painful to accept, especially if you really clung onto this idea for comfort. But that acceptance may also make room for its own (and maybe better?) kind of comfort: a hope that’s more active than passive. 

No, that whole „getting better“ thing won’t happen magically and naturally. But we are doing our best to make it happen. More people are out and proud than ever before, and they are willing to fight back. There are still things changing for the better, small or big, because people fight for it. There are still communities and safe spaces because people are building them. There are still people that vow to uplift and protect each other - and we are not going away. 

So, what can you do? You can feel that betrayal, you can feel your anger and pain. And take it as fuel. You can keep in mind that the progress we’ve made is not erased. We are still here. You are here, and you’re not alone. There are still so many of us fighting for us, loving each other and building a future where we can thrive.

It gets better. Not magically, but because of us. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[persicipen]

𑑛 “GOODBYE FLOWERS” ﾉ PHAINON. HONKAI STAR RAIL

gn reader ﾉ words 0.8k ✘ spoilerless but vaguely set back in 3.0 before he goes to castrum kremnos. saying goodbye when you send your boy to save the world. but don’t worry, he will come back :3 ✘ BITTERSWEET FLUFF ﾉ GENERAL CONTENT!

Who stands before you is none other than Phainon of Aedes Elysiae himself. Chest proudly wide and out with the golden stars on his vest gleaming with each breath he makes; moonlight hair ruffled by the wind and his frivolous trotting through the streets with the intent to find you as soon as possible. He gives you a flower blue as his own eyes. It’s beautiful, no doubts about it. Must’ve been growing on the slopes with waterfalls behind the city where the climate is the gentlest, most loved by all plants and animals alike.

“Romantic.” You muse, rubbing the velvety soft petals between your fingers. “Maybe you should ask Lady Aglaea to hand you the Coreflame of Romance?”

“Don’t joke about it, Lady Aglaea is not someone to be laughed at.” He scolds you, voice gentle like Phagousa’s breeze.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that… It’s just that… if you weren’t destined to bear the fate of this world… perhaps then I wouldn’t have to worry about saying goodbye to you on such a beautiful day.” Your voice breaks with the first tear that dews your lashes.

The day is beautiful, more than ever. Kephale’s gentle sun shines on the city, and you can believe there is already a demigod standing in front of you, even though you know that he is still awaiting his chance to conquer the Coreflame. He seems unaffected by this anymore, not as much as with your saddening reaction.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs and takes your hand in his, caressing gently with his thumbs. The smile he gives you is loving, yet you see it wavering at the corners of his lips. “I’m going to miss you as well, more than you can ever understand…”

“Don’t say it like you’re going away for long. It’s just one mission, yes?”

“Heh, I am grateful that you think of me so highly. Battling a corrupted god is but a detour on our journey. Soon, we’ll stand together again under the sunlight shining from above.” His other hand rests against the nape of your neck as he presses his forehead against yours. “Don’t be sad. Whatever comes along, remember that I will always find you. I will always come back to you.”

Your shoulders slump a little with those words. If only you could have seen each other as much as you wanted to. In times when there is a fleeting peace, all you crave is a battle; an excuse to make Phainon stay beside you, as he has done many times before. Whenever things turned dangerous, Phainon was there to protect you. It is not you wishing for more pain or calamity — people have suffered enough because of the black tide — but that infantile part of you didn’t want to see him venture out into the fog of solemn war and leave you unattended. What purpose is there in the sun and ripe fruits if there’s no one to share them with you?

“I will keep watching this flower… Believing it’s your eyes looking back at me.” You tell him as you wrap your one arm around his waist, pulling him closer into a hug, which he returns without any hesitation.

“Then I shall return to you with a new flower every time, and I won’t stop until you’re drowning in a sea of them.” He laughs, and you feel the vibrations from his chest.

“You’re such an idiot… There is only one place where the flowers make a sea.”

The other side of the warm west wind, the one destination everyone will eventually reach once their life comes to an end.

“I’m not going there without you.”

You don’t ponder that. Instead, you let him hold you close as you try to memorise everything about him. Every curve in his muscular body, and how perfectly you mold together. The warmth of his embrace and how it makes you never want to let go, the way his heart beats against yours, the sound of his laughter, and his scent. For a moment, you pretend it’s just a normal day where your duties are mundane and Phainon’s presence is but a reward for accomplishing your task. A perfect ending, a beautiful dream.

But dreams will never last forever.

When he lets go, the chill of solitude envelopes you instantly. Your hands wander over to grasp onto the hem of his sapphire robes, gripping tightly as if holding on to something long lost. His voice calls out your name, repeating it gently until your blurred gaze meets with his cerulean one. He places a kiss on your forehead with a soft hum. It’s almost painful how genuine and affectionate it feels; as if he still believes there is always another chance, another time.

“See you tomorrow,” he whispers against the skin.

“Or the day after tomorrow.”

Another gentle laugh reverberates from him as he tucks the flower behind your ear and at last heads towards the gates to join the others. Your eyes follow him until his figure disappears in a blur of your tears.

[starqualityreadings]

Who's still thinking about you ? PAC reading

pick the scene you feel called to

I appreciate any feedback & thanks for reading !

1

time and space

a person you want to talk to wants to talk to you too . there are a lot of unexpressed feelings here, it feels like two people who grew apart or had to move away from each other. there could have been a false start or things that prevented you from fully having a relationship or knowing each other. a lot of things feel like forced choices or circumstances.

they imagine you as doing very well. someone who works hard to surround themselves with the things they want in life. its almost like they don't want to bother you or disturb your peace.

they have an idealized version of you in their head. at one time you were the complete package to them or did things that were very in tune with what they wanted from a connection. you may have been more soft and nurturing than what they were normally used to.

they are definitely thinking about the times you had together and craving more. in some ways, you deeply satisfied them and no one has given them the same feeling since you. they wish you would visit them or that they could see you again.

this person thinks about reaching out to you often and looks at your social medias or checks on you in any way they can. however, they are hoping you reach out to them first.

2

give and take

there may have been a lot of arguments, a bad breakup or even a toxic relationship you recently moved on from. this person stopped meeting your standards or you saw that they were never actually capable of doing so. Maybe they were presenting themselves as better or doing things they couldn't maintain over time.

age difference or emotional immaturity that should have been corrected by their age is significant. they may be thinking they can improve themselves to win you back or have one up on you.

they may be dating someone new or claiming they've moved on but deep down they are still emotionally attached to you. this may be especially hard because they had a lot of hopes for this connection or you may have planned a lot of things for your futures together.

this person is still very much upset and possibly vindictive or petty towards you because of this. they are struggling with the idea of fully moving on and wondering if there is any way they can get your attention.

3

knowing your worth

you may have left this person or situation to protect your peace after you felt unappreciated or betrayed

this is someone who is depressed, has a lot of baggage, or is often sick. this person is likely older, could have a higher position, or just thought they were superior to you in some way

I wouldn't necessarily say regret, but this person does feel bad for how they treated you at certain times or how things ended between you

your absence made this person realize just how meaningful your presence is. they could have been a lot more grateful or gracious towards you

they have thought about reaching out but you already blocked them or they feel like you would not want to hear them out after everything

a lot of things were felt but never said here. they wish they would have listened to you more or taken what you weren't saying to them into consideration. if you were going through a harder time than they originally thought, they are more aware of that now.

[artemisiasmuse]

always known | CH.6

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem! kook reader

CW: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, multiple rounds, no protection don’t be like them, angst, mean rafe, jealousy, possessive rafe, kook typical classism (not from y/n tho), abusive family dynamics, not really canon/au, swearing, drinking, no coke tho, ward cameron

SUMMARY: rafe’s childhood best friend y/n returns to figure eight by herself and finds rafe hates her for some reason, their friendship has gone down the drain and they can hardly remain cordial, and there’s one thing causing all of it: why can’t rafe just move on?

TROPE: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 5k (this one is just purely smut)

MASTERLIST

< previous

being more than friends with rafe while at tannyhill proves extremely difficult. you’re both not great at hiding it and ward very pointedly says that you’re not allowed to visit each other’s rooms. so naturally you have to get creative, rafe “drops you” to school most days, you “hang out” at the country club. being that you had two decades of pent-up frustration to make up for you capitalize on any private moment. and really even though he’s put you in this situation you’re thankful ward has tinted windows on all his cars even if you thought it was shady before. 

the first time rafe dropped you to school he had his hand on your thigh, squeezing and rubbing at the plush of it. warm palm easily encompassing it and large fingers absentmindedly caressing. he’d done it without much thought, you’d been holding hands and his hand just rested against your thigh so easily. its such a simple thing but your entire world flips on its axis. you’re thrown head first into your desire before you even know it. you had worn jeans that day but even still you swore your skin had lit on fire. there was absolutely no hope for attending class when he pulled into the parking lot to reach into the backseat for his rain jacket before handing it to you. you hadn’t even processed the words, “it’s gonna rain later,” before you leaned over the console and kissed him. rafe made a small noise of surprise, a hum from the back of his throat, that sounded so deep and sweet you couldn’t help but want more. his hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. the angle was too awkward for how close you wanted to be. you’d already done the estimation in your head before when he parked, there was enough space. rafe made that noise that you were getting addicted to as you straddled his lap and sat down. the weight of you on his lap was nothing short of euphoric, his hands instantly roaming your hips pulling you closer by your ass, this time it was your turn to be surprised. you’d been a bit worried you were too heavy for him but the way rafe’s lips were curling into a smile assuage any doubts. his thighs are so muscular under your own and you wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin. your hands found his face and angled it down towards you, smiling at how pliant he was in your hold. rafe was sure he’d get hard if you moved even an inch and as much as he wanted nothing more than to move this to the backseat he still had enough rationality to know your first time shouldn’t be in a car.

your lips are on his before he can think too hard, his hands massage the fat of your ass, pulling you as close as possible. you’re right over his bulge and if you keep it up it’ll be impossible for either of you to ignore. but there’s no way you’re stopping not when even coffee breath is sexy to you. you’re biting at his lips hungry and rafe can’t help but give in, swirling his tongue with yours. the press of your tits against his chest isn’t helping his increasingly hard situation. he has to stop this before he loses his mind.

“don’t you have class?” he says it between kisses, you’re relentless. 

“don’t care, i’ll make the next one.” you pepper his face with kisses. rafe shudders as you flick his ear, kissing him sweetly. you can feel him hard between your legs, thick and solid and definitely bigger than anyone you’ve had before. you know it’s mean but it feels like payback for how turned on you’d been the whole car ride. although it would’ve felt great youre begrudgingly glad you didn’t wear a skirt, how embarrassing it would’ve been if he could feel how wet you were. 

“fuck can’t have our first in a car,” he mumbles and you shift your hips infinitesimally, he holds them still, giving you a look of warning. it only makes you want to act out more. 

“i don’t mind,” you look him dead in the eyes as you say it and rafe might just come in his pants from that alone. how would he survive you? 

“don’t say that shit baby,” he throws his head back against the car seat, his voice rough like it physically hurts him to hold back. and it does, he’s never been so hard from so little. your body hums at the pet name, you want to listen to him because of it, you’re like putty in his hands even if you’re the one who initiated this.

“okay okay we won’t,” you don’t make any move to move off him though, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“okay just-you know what let me close my eyes,” he’s trying to will his boner away, in fact he’s trying to not come in his pants from any slight movements from you. something about him being in so much agony because of you isn’t really making you want to stop. you press kisses to his jawline and neck, to his pulse point. his cologne mixes with his body heat and you want to shove your nose into the column of his neck.

“rafe you smell really good.” you’re practically purring it into his ear, pressing a kiss to the skin. 

“oh god shut the fuck up.” there’s no hope, he’ll just have to be blue balled for the rest of the day. his eyes snap open as he pulls you back by the back of your neck and you grin victoriously into the kiss. 

and then there’s the country club. thank god for those extra changing rooms otherwise you would have traumatized a lot of parents. you snuck away from topper and kelce to fool around and rafe had you shoved against a wall, out of sight from everyone, hands roaming as you did the same. it was a shame you couldn’t get his shirt off because you really couldn’t stand seeing the outline of his pecs and biceps through fabric. rafe pulled back for air, huffing into your shoulder as you did the same into his chest. he was curled around you, if anyone saw you two they wouldn’t even be able to see you. his thigh was wedged between yours, dangerously close to making contact with your core. if he did you couldn’t trust yourself to grind against him. it was safe to say the restrictions around you weren’t helping your infinitely growing desire. 

it feels like it’s been ten years-it’s been four days-when you finally get the call that your place is fully repaired. rafe was out with ward when you heard so you hightailed it back home, taking as much as you could from tannyhill in your rush. you and rafe had made dinner plans and he agreed to bring whatever you had at tannyhill over when he picked you anyways. being home was nice even if it felt a little empty without rafe or the cameron’s. you hoped now that you weren’t under ward’s watchful eye rafe could stay over more. you were missing a couch and some other fabric chairs after the flooding but your rooms upstairs were untouched. you clean up and air out your space, lighting some candles. the smell of wood and repairs eventually fades and it feels normal again. you even bake some cookies so your kitchen doesn’t feel so barren. by the time it’s evening you’re rushing to get ready. you knew what you were gonna wear, you had it all planned out as soon as rafe asked you out. a baby blue satin slip dress that cinched at the waist and was low cut enough to show off your curves. you looked and felt damn good in it. you put your hair up and did your makeup to withstand whatever the night brought on. you spray on rafe’s favorite perfume and are putting on your pearl earrings when the doorbell rings. you answer it with one hand and do an obvious once-over of your man. rafe looks perfect, as usual, white dress shirt with slacks and a bouquet of flowers that look fake from how pretty they are. 

“hey handsome.” rafe cannot believe he got so lucky. he knows you’re beautiful, you’re always beautiful, but the sight of you so dolled up just for him has his head spinning. he enters your space, but he doesn’t even notice anything around him because all he can see is you. you finish putting on your earring and hug him. 

“hey you look amazing” his hands find home in the curve of your waist, pulling you closer. 

“thanks, i just need to grab my purse-“ you’re about to move to leave but rafe makes a noise that is somewhere between a grumble and a whine. you don’t move, instead looping your hands around his neck and letting him relax into your arms. he noses along your neck, you smell good enough to eat.

“how hungry are you?” he murmurs it into your neck, kissing the spot under your ear. 

“not that hungry, by the time we get the food and everything i think i will be though,” you replied thoughtfully, he 

“im fucking starving.” he presses a kiss to your neck, the skin is so soft and unmarked and it’s irresistible. his whole body refuses to let go of you, it's like the air around you is thicker, he can’t seem to move away. he’d dreamed about how you taste and he knows your lips and your breath but he wants more. he wants to taste more. 

“i can make you something real quick.” you’re still not catching on to how you have affected him with one look alone.

“nah not for that.” a nip of teeth along your jugular make you suddenly all aware. 

“oh-we could always move the reservation,” you’re so cute, rafe thinks, always so eager to please and he can’t help but wonder how much it extends. 

“or order in.” his nips turn into bites, kissing over them and you crane your neck for him to have better access. your legs are starting to feel weak from how intentional he’s being with every touch and word. they’re all coalescing into a fire in your core, you’re not wearing underwear so you’re really testing the limits. 

“or order hah i-in.” he doesn’t think he can handle another second without having you, it’s been hard to hold back the past week and it’s impossible now that he knows there’s no real obstacle. you can scream his name and no one can stop you and the thought makes him clutch you a bit tighter. 

“where’s your room baby?” he pulls back to look at you and you blink at him slowly before intertwining the fingers around your waist with your own and leading him up stairs. he follows your lead, enjoying the view of you going up in front of him. you hadn’t given him a choice when you put on this dress he realized. 

your room is far cozier and colorful than his, trinkets and memories on every wall and he sees himself in a few pictures and keepsakes. there’s no hiding your personality and he loves it automatically. he remembered your childhood bedroom was so devoid of anything you actually liked because your parents didn’t like it. you watch rafe take it all in, he looks so much bigger in the space than you feel but he somehow still fits in. you’d been itching to tell him about your room and have him in your space and there’s one thing still bothering you.

“i got a place with a guest bedroom cause of you.” it blurts out and you regret it as soon as you say it. rafe’s head snaps towards you in shock.

“what?” you may have completely ruined the mood. you hurry to explain. 

“i know it’s kind of stupid, i didn’t even know if you cared about me back then but still i don’t know i just always thought we’d-“ rafe thinks he might start crying. you tend to make him feel like that, emotional. maybe it’s because he’s never cared about anyone like he’s cared about you. the jarring realization that you care about him just as much for just as much time has his heart soaring out of his chest and he can’t hold back any more. the words will rip their way out of him anyways.

“i love you.” his voice comes out low like a whisper, like a promise. your mind blanks for a split second before it all snaps into place. it’s as natural as breathing when you open your mouth.

“i love you rafe.” rafe crosses the space to kiss you, sweet and gentle and it solidifies any room for doubt in either of you. the kiss naturally progresses into something needier and rafe’s hand slips down your face to your neck before slipping a strap of your dress down your shoulder. you gasp into his mouth before pulling back and unbuttoning his shirt. you had to even the playing field. 

rafe is trying not pass out from the sight of you desperately undressing him and pushes you back by your hips until you fall back on the bed. he takes over the rest throwing his shirt to the side. your eyes hungrily roam his chest, the low light of your lamp is enough to solidify that rafe is way too hot to wear a shirt ever again. you sit up to slide your hands along the divers of his abs, tracing the lines before smoothing over his pecs and pulling him down towards you by his neck. rafe shudders at your touch, wedging himself between your legs. your dress is nearly off you with one more touch of his hands and you pull back. he’s being far too hesitant.

“you don't think…” your eyes narrow in a silent question, one that he picks up easily.

“i dont know.” and you nod your head, that explains it.

“i’m not, are you?” you can’t gauge if he’s disappointed or not. 

“nah and i don’t care by the way, i might not be your first but i'm definitely gonna be your last,” your head spins at the statement. he pushes the skirt of your dress up, you panic a bit because you’re completely bare under it, he feels you stiffen and stops. 

“i’m just a bit scared.” you whisper it into the air and maybe scared wasn’t the right word but you’re suddenly very aware of every inch of your skin and how rafe looks like an angel sent from the heavens.

“we don’t have to-“

“no i want to i just-you probably have super high expectations.” rafe’s eyes narrow at your words, he can’t believe that you’re simultaneously the smartest and dumbest person he knows.

“i love you every part of you, you could never disappoint me by being you.” rafe doesn’t want to pressure you into anything but he needs you to know that.

“okay.” you unzip the side of your dress, making it easier for him to pull off and he kisses your forehead. your eyelashes fluttering from the sweet affection.

“that being said, i might come just from seeing you naked.” and there’s goes that cute moment.

“real fucking romantic.” you shove against his shoulder and he laughs, you silently thank him for loosening you up.

“what can i say my girl’s really fucking hot.” your stomach flutters at his words and the dopey grin he’s wearing. you need him so badly you don’t care about your insecurities any more. 

“as long as you can get it up again we won’t have a problem champ.” you tease him back after a moment of ingesting his words. 

“yes ma’am.” everything he says is getting you hot and bothered and finally he takes off your dress. his eyes don’t even know where to look because every part of you is perfect. your stretch marks, your tummy, your breasts, oh and oh god rafe was joking but now he might actually come. your pussy is bare and although he can’t see it properly it’s so cute. his heart is already racing so fast and it’s somehow picking up speed. his head feels a bit faint as all his blood rushes south—“fuck i think i might die.” he whispers it so seriously you can’t help but laugh, he hasn’t looked you in the eyes since you took your dress off and the way he looks like a man starved has you squirming under him.

“shut up-“ you don’t know if you can handle him staring without so much as blinking much less touching you.

“no you’re-what the fuck.” it’s all he says before kisses you and loops your legs around his waist. you feel his bulge against your bare cunt and if he wasn’t wearing black you knew you’d see a remnant of you there. in fact if he doesn’t do something you’re gonna start dripping onto your sheets.

“rafe-need you” your words come out broken as he barely lets you pull away for air. kissing and grinding aren’t cutting it any more and the heavy thick weight of him between your legs is nearly torture. the words are like a zap of electricity to his brain and he unbuckles his pants and has them off in seconds, only in his boxers now. the way you whined his name is replaying over and over in his head and he just can’t get enough. he’s back in his spot and trailing kisses down your neck and then your breasts. one of his hands pinches a nipple while the other dips between your legs. you buck into him from the sudden stimulation—lips attach to your nipple sucking and biting at it, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. he’s sloppy with it, drooling all over you with zero worry for the marks he’s leaving. his hand between your legs teases the soft skin of your inner thighs, never quite where you need him. the presence feels like the lump in your throat, unyielding and attention-seeking. you whine his name again and he actually thinks you might have found a way to mind control him. his thick fingers ghost your folds, finding them absolutely drooling. they’re so puffy and messy he almost coos at how desperate you must feel.

“you’re so wet, baby.” his mouth is back on your neck, groaning the words into your ear. his tone is gravelly and rough, still sweetened by his love for you and you writhe for him to touch you properly. he actually laughs-the fucker-at your response before his ringed index finger presses into your opening. you’re nearly dripping into the palm of his hand and when the cold metal of his ring catches on your entrance you huff out in shock.

his finger is so much larger than yours and it’s starting to scratch the itch you feel but it’s not enough and rafe knows it, he adds his middle finger and this time it’s a stretch—your poor pussy is hugging him so tightly he thinks you’ve never been fucked properly before, his fingers curl into you and feel around for the fleshy spot he knows will make you cry. he knows he’s found it when you clench around him, gooey walls closing in on his fingers. “that’s it, sweet girl” and while rafe knows he should stretch you out more he can’t help himself. he’s been hungry, starving, for days, for years. your eyelashes flutter open as his fingers are pulled out, he wants to lick them clean but why not try straight from the source. you don’t even register what’s happening before rafe is putting the backs of your thighs against his shoulders and squeezing between the plush of them. 

“oh!” it hits you when his tongue swipes up the length of your pussy. rafe moans at the taste, heady and sweet, it’s so good he thinks if he wasn’t in love now your juices might be a love potion. one taste is enough for him to pull your thighs down, shoving himself into your cunt and you moan at the force. his tongue is everywhere, swirling between the mess you’ve made on your legs and your folds, flicking against your clit and delving into you teasingly. he presses a finger into you as he sucks on your clit, biting at it and sending your mind into black and white for a second. then he’s delving into you and pulling anything he can out of you, finger hammering into you and his tongue swirling instead slowly in a mind-numbing contrast.

“so sweet,” you hear him moan into you, his dreams didn’t hold a candle to your actual taste. you’re bucking and writhing into his mouth but his hold on you is firm, he doesn’t care if your thighs squish his head either because he’s too drunk off you to care. you can feel yourself getting close as he curls his finger inside against your g-spot your poor pussy quivering at the action and before you can hold back any more your hold snaps, you’re cumming into his mouth before you can help it crying out his name like a plea. it’s violent and overwhelming and your hips are bucking into violently but rafe needs to drink you up, he needs to taste you when you come. the way you milk his tongue has him desperate to feel you around him. you sound so wrecked saying his name and he wants to pull it out of you again, wants to look you in the eyes when you say it. when he’s sure you can’t give him any more he releases his hold on you and pulls away. the lower half of his face is glistening and you’re almost ashamed but you can’t help but admire how depraved the sight is. you want to thank whoever made him so good at eating pussy because you’re never letting him go now. rafe looks positively fucked out and you can’t imagine you’re any better. you tug him in for a kiss tasting yourself on his lips. you still feel desperate for more, you need his cock and you don’t care if you have to beg. 

“rafe if you don’t fuck me so help me-”

“relax princess, i told you i was hungry.” he says it without any shame and you actually can’t hold his eye contact. you’d only ever imagined him talking to you like this and the reality is so much harder to handle. he pulls his boxers off and then intertwines a hand with yours, pressing it next to your head. you can’t help yourself when you look down, being met with what is undoubtedly the biggest dick you’d ever seen. it’s unfair how pretty it is. long and thick with a vein running down the middle and cropped brown hair at the base. there’s white precum dribbling out of the mushroom head and you’re equally intimidated and turned on. you let out a shaky exhale and the monster cock twitches at your attention, “fuck don’t stare like that-“ rafe groans at the way your eyes widened at the sight of him. you’re not even trying to hide your reactions. despite how you feel you, you’re childishly putting on a brave front.

“why not? it’s mine isn’t it?” yeah rafe is gonna die. he just groans again before shoving your legs up and out until they’re framing his hips. it is yours of course it’s yours, he’d let you do anything you want to him. your bravado is once again swept away when his tip is gliding against your entrance, far wider than anything you’d ever expect. you’re not even sure if it’ll fit. you nod at him to move and he pushes into you, a gasp leaving your lips. the stretch burns and it’s unlike any pain you’ve had before. this is tinged by pleasure and you try to relax but you’re still a bit worried about all the inches and girth past the tip.

“so tight i-“ rafe is addicted sure he’s always been in love and it’s always been a bit too intense for anyone to understand but the way you feel around him, warm and snug, has him going fully insane. no way he’s letting you go.

“t-too big.” you shudder under him, rafe can’t look down because if he sees it he knows he won’t be able to survive it. in fact he’s so close that if he doesn’t focus his absolute best he might just come.

“can’t talk like that i’m actually gonna-“ and he does in fact come. he comes just from putting the tip in. thick gooey ropes pump into you and the added lubrication makes it easier for him to slip in a bit, the urge to plug you full is impossible to ignore. there’s something pathetic about him coming just from this and it’s so inexplicably sweet that you’re moaning his name. “don’t say anything.” rafe is trying to damage control. you can feel him still hard inside you and his come is already slipping out of you, what a shame you think.

“come on big boy who said anything about stopping.” the nickname makes his dick twitch inside you and a sick smirk curls his lips. you’re just as far gone as him. he eases into you and the stretch is unimaginable. you’re unbelieving that anyone can even reach that far, you feel like you’re being molded to him, even the vein along his length is a dent inside you. when you think he’s done, you can feel him in the back of your throat and he’s nestled against your cervix, you realize he hasn’t even bottomed out. “it doesn’t fit.” you sound as heartbroken as rafe feels. he pulls out and pushes back in experimentally, still being stopped at the same spot. the thrust is enough for you to see stars, the feeling of being eased in replaced by the full hammering thickness and length of him at once. 

“pussy’s too small for me—fuckkk that’s okay i’ll make it fit hmm?” rafe is mindlessly murmuring to himself, he pulls your hips up, wedging a pillow under them for a different angle, this time he gets further and finally his balls press against you. you’re shaking from the stretch and he has to clench his jaw to not move again. when you’re not clenching down like a vice he finally moves again, slowly easing in and out, halfway down his length. he refuses to pull out all the way, he thinks he’ll have an aneurysm if he isn’t inside you all the time. “so perfect s’like you’re made for me, fuck i love you so much.” it’s much more manageable and the slow drag of him inside you has you getting worked up again. rafe is close too but he has been for a while—actually right after coming.

you pull him down for a kiss, the angle of him leaning down presses him further into you and you gasp into his mouth. “i love you rafey, you feel so good.” he’s pressing against your most sensitive spot and rafe thinks this might be his favorite position, kissing you and fucking you deep and slow. he can feel your heartbeat against his and your hair that was up before started to slip out more and more he curls a strand around his finger. when it becomes too much you’re panting into each other’s mouths, desperate to catch you breath but not enough to stop. you’re drenching him in your sweet juices and they mix with his come to form a circle at the base of him.

“come on baby, pretty girl, you’re doing so well.”  a few more torturous drags of his tip against your g-spot has your walls fluttering and clenching on him, he comes inside again and you can’t believe he’s still hard. you’re not tired though yet and you start to think rafe might actually go all night. you shove against his shoulder and he pulls out but then you shove again and get him onto his back. his eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re doing, you straddle him and wince a bit as his come spurts out of you. your clit bumps against his toned stomach and the sick mess of your juices paints his skin white. rafe watches it happen, it’s undeniably obscene but he’s gonna think about it for the rest of his life. he props a pillow under him as you move down until his length is nudging against your hole. being on top has its perks but the sensation of him filling you is even more overwhelming that before.

“fuckkk.” he shuts his eyes at the sensation, even now you’re still tight as you lower down onto him. without the pain you can feel how he fills you, vein catching on your entrance and his tip still has to shove its way. you take your time, eventually bottoming out. you grind your hips against him, the new angle makes him feel even deeper and you’re both panting from the stimulation.

“this is where you are rafey.” you take his hand and press it to where you feel him. he blinks rapidly, moaning at the words, his fingers push at the spot on your stomach, amazed by how far up he is. he really should be careful with you, his poor little baby was getting skewered by him. but then you’re the one teasing him—brat

“you tryna kill me?” rafe’s other hand spanks your ass and you jolt at the feeling, you don’t let it show that you like it but rafe can feel you clench, can feel how you get wetter. oh he can’t wait to test your limits. you start bouncing on him slowly, moving your hips at the pace that’s comfortable. eventually though your knees feel shaky and you lean down into him, your weight fully against his chest. rafe presses a sweet kiss to your cheek before hammering up into you. it’s a far more brutal pace than before, slamming his hips up into you and it’s nearly launching you off the bed. you scream his name and rafe can’t stop pulling the sound from you. your cunt feels like it might be bruised from his pace but the coil in your stomach is building regardless.

the bed shakes from his thrusts as the room is filled with rapid rhythm of plap plap plap and the pornographic moans from both of you. rafe can’t stop praising you and you can only repeat his name. the pressure is too much for your poor pussy building and building with no end in sight. one particular thrust that he pulls you down to meet by your hips snaps the band inside you, the dam breaking all at once— you’re splashing his hips and stomach with squirt and he fucks your through it, pulling as much out as he can. if rafe’s chest wasn’t a mess before he’s actually dripping come onto your sheets now. you’re clenching him so tight and the added lubrication feels like he might just be shoved out of you. he fucks into you until he can’t any more; until he pulls one more orgasm from you and can finally plug you full. rafe thinks that your timeline is so fucked up that getting you pregnant wouldn’t even be that bad, he wants that with you so why not start now? at least you should practice every night. you’re completely worn out on his chest, panting and clutching onto him as you regain strength. rafe even now loops his arms around you and holds you close.

“you’re never using that guest bedroom.” you say it in a croak, you may have lost your voice from screaming his name. rafe laughs and he can’t agree more.

“i was never planning on it.” he kisses your forehead adoringly, like he didn’t just rearrange your vital organs and gently lays you down beside him. you’re so grateful that you were able to come to obx and that in the end your best friend forgave you. because now you truly had him forever. what came next you’d face together.

a/n: it’s over :,( but i really enjoyed posting this it’s been in my drafts for a while <3 i’ll pry go back and edit this since i didn’t check much for mistakes my first run-through, also pry post a fluffy short epilogue!!

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