#which was cool to find out back when i was looking all this up the first time and again just now

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[malereadermaniac]

Boyfriend Experience - Rodrick x Male reader

Long-form(ish) headcannons for dating Rodrick; from the start of it to the smut of it Top!Rodrick x Bottom!Reader word count: 1k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

The first time he really paid you any mind was at his party. As more and more people left, everyone kinda chilled out and decided on playing a big game of spin the bottle with a dare twist. As the only openly gay guy out of the many players, of course your dare had something to do with a guy; drunk young adults are constantly horny, so makes sense. Rodrick really took notice of you when you were made to sit on his lap for the (long) remainder of the game; and as to avoid any awkwardness, you two made quite a bit of conversation as other people kept doing dares. And after only really talking for half an hour, when the bottle landed on Rodrick, the two of you were dared to kiss - which you did do. And you both enjoyed it.

Rodrick started to crush on you after that party, he'd already debated whether or not he was straight, that experience with you just confirmed it for him really. You also started to crush on the man, who wouldn't though? He's a pretty hot guy and in a band as the drummer! Smash. However, a problem that arose very quickly into the talking stage was that Rodrick did NOT KNOW HOW TO FLIRT. It's not exactly that he didn't have the confidence to try, Rodrick was more than happy to to make many moves on you, they were all just a little awkward or corny - but you couldn't help but find that shit cute. The rocker would always walk you to classes and act as if your class was on his way, even though he wasn't even in your building. And when you'd ask him about it, Rodrick would take the opportunity to more blatantly flirt, but whatever words would come out of his mouth would always make you laugh rather than blush... "I go outta my way for ya 'cause a face like that is worth a thousand words~" "Haha... that doesn't even make sense" Rodrick's flirting did seriously improve after the two of you started dating; or maybe you're just seeing it through rose-coloured glasses. The man's flirts are still dorky or stupid but they tend to make more sense now; plus, Rodrick prefers to show his affection via physical touch anyways. You two will be at a party and your emo-of-a-boyfriend will already be hugging onto your waist and pulling you onto his lap; his arms snug around your waist, with either his head resting on your shoulder or your arms around his neck 'for balance'.

Rodrick's ego get's a ridiculous boost whenever you come over and watch his band practice, getting very excited on the inside but never letting it show (or at least he thinks he isn't letting it show...). But you don't complain, you have to admit that watching your boyfriend go ham on some drums while looking all cool and hot wasn't something you hated. It also makes your heart skip a beat when the drummer glimpses up at you as he beats the shit out of his drums, sneaking in a wink and a smirk, then going back to whatever loud ass song he was playing.

Contrary to popular belief, Rodrick is not some sex-god! Bro was a virgin before you! Sure, his confidence did fool quite a few people (you included), but confidence alone doesn't necessarily mean you pull... In fact, your boyfriend was such a virgin, that he had to wikihow tips on sex in the lead up to asking you to fuck! That being said though, after the first couple of nights together, where you mostly had to teach your boyfriend the ropes and be patient, Rodrick really got the hang of it! Like, really well, too well! His love for physical touch crosses over into intimate moments between you two, so expect many kisses along your body, fingers gliding over your skin, soft bites, a tight hold on your waist or hips or thigh. Oh and once Rodrick really gained some confidence when having sex with you? That's when your boyfriend became a fucking man, talking you through it like a pro; praising you, holding your leg up onto his built shoulder as he slowly thrusts into you, lowly singing you praises and chanting your name through his panting - holy shit this man knows how to get you off!

It's quite funny that Rodrick's mum really likes you. She finds that you're his only friend that's a good influence, meaning that Rodrick can do whatever he wants as long as he mentions you being there! You're also the only friend allowed to sleep round his; that being hilarious, because you're the only friend which Rodrick is fucking every other night. You're boyfriend's mum is blissfully unaware of you and her son doing ungodly things under her roof, and it's kind of a turn on for the both of you... Rodrick will be fingering you whilst shouting a 'goodnight' to his parents like it's nothing! Turning back around to you and giving you a small smirk and a 'shush', 'cause you wouldn't want his parents to hear you? Would you? You wouldn't want them to know how loose Rodrick gets you, you wouldn't want them to hear your hole making phallic sound of squelching, or to hear your pants and moans of their son's name. But that goes both ways! Rodrick would die if his parents heard his moaning and groaning of your name, if they saw his disheveled look as his fingers curled into your hair whilst you sucked his dick ever so nicely.

Cute little bonus: Rodrick gets suuuuuper jealous but doesn't know how to really express that... Which usually just leads to the man being a little emo in public and trying to show off! Emphasising the tiny height difference between you two by resting his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, and even flexing his muscles; Rodrick pulls out all the stops in order to show off, in aims to get any small compliment from you so that he'll feel less jealous and inferior. In private though, his jealousy does come out a little more, your boyfriend becoming a soppy mess about some guy flirting with you; but don't worry, Rodrick's jealousy turns into horniness real quick!

[fagottkatie]

Now this is so cool and could only be found on not a whole lot of sites right. Where are we in lgbt making headways. I hope and pray we all are. It’s pathetic ly fkn retarded and fkd up we aren’t in a whole lot of places. Around my Nico of the woods well now let’s bring in a small town just moved out of Philly which I did love it there and get back there hmm, twice a month. But no gurls really out any more even there with the exception of the night clubs in center city the gayborhood in center city. Lots of gay guys no gurls hanging out at nights at spots they use too. Dam honestly it was great back let’s see 30 or more years ago fkn hottie Tgirls all over which corner were they hookin. I loved spending time with the bookers on the corner. Never ever hooked but loved their style their appearance so sexy hot always the short lil mini sexy legs nice and silky. Smoke some weed and when someone broke out the powder I was like oh man look at this. Fkn besutiful. Because when you hit that powder the sex drive is like intensified ten fold. Never ever hooked on it never bought it back then but when the gurls turned me on I was like fkn thank you lady Jane’s. They were all so fun best of times and mud town the absolute best of the sexy best. Tgirls everywhere. Philly and Mid Town and everyone loved us them in the cities. Than after a day and night or the whole weekend it was back to the small town USA where Tgirls on my home town were referred to as human disgraces. Mthr fkrs. That there is mother fkrs man. All fkd up in small town for gurls. Bummer. Like a trans parade in small town I’S NOT Happening. Or trans pride in small town people fkn really hate trans and gay dudes too they fkn mock but trans dam like we did a mthr fkn thing wrong for society to look at us like that. One thing for certain when I moved out of that white fkn hick town, I certainly laid into them all and I mean yo let’s fkn go with all the trans induendos when I’m around you fkn cunt every mthr fkn one of them. And when they brought the subject up I was like in the face protecting trans interests and not even having one trans gurl friend. That really sucks man. Not even a sexual relationship. Dam cool dinner hang out smoke some weed go shopping dressed all hot and sexy. I’m in small town now and out dressed when shopping or little things but only little ole me and the big bad wolves. Who would get dropped in a moment someone says a dam thing. I am fed up with the hate. And lol I am bad ass not to be fkd with. I am the coolest person ever and fk with no one but date a mother fkn white hick in small town insults. I will slice and dice his lil special ego down to fkn dirt and keep it up til hopefully he throws the fist lol , they never would. And o am talking serious insults back to the mthr fkrs in my home town when I was leaving. This bubba mthr fkr really bad I laid the fk into that fkn hate bastard fkn 6’3 this fkn weasel and big and the fkn rat beard insulting him fkn my spit hitting the cunts face but like a mthr fkn white piece of trash he fkn cowered. He loved calling trans human disgraces. Mthr fkn grit ball bastard. Fk em all gurls learn to fight it is best for you. Especially these days. So find that tough on our lil fem beings because it’s there we all have it weather big or petite fight it’s good for you because no one on your side in small town when you come out. So anyway. This pic this lil symbol of us into get one and hang it on my window facing our gurls. Because im gonna die in small town unless i move back to north Philly i fkn loved so much. All black communities and they are the coolest people. You will not find smy hating on trans. Honest to God. And I don’t even consider myself fkn white any more I say my grandparents came from Sicily I am not white I’m Sicilian. Because whitey in tgg he see neck of the woods fkn racist bastards too using the fkn n word don’t say t hat near me ass hole. And no joke. What the fk would I get out of lying or misrepresenting in anyway. Yo this is the real deal Reality world away from www. I luv u

remember: you are loved 💗

[moonlitstoriess]

The Cost of Deception- Azriel x fem!reader (2/3)

Summary: After years of silence, Y/N and Azriel unknowingly track the same target, only to find themselves face-to-face once more. Betrayal runs deep, and neither is willing to forgive, but the mission must come first—if they don’t destroy each other first.

See masterlist

Part 1

Warnings: not proofread, SMUT MINORS DNI (i will mention when it starts and ends), mentions of trauma, fighting, angst, mentions of SA, still kinda toxic Azriel, injuries

Azriel had been up for hours. Sleep had evaded him, the tangled sheets of the too-small bed serving as a bitter reminder of his lack of control. He hated himself for what had happened the night before—for how easily he had given in to her. She had been a firestorm in his arms, all heat and anger, a perfect storm of fury and passion. And he’d matched her, moment for moment, letting the simmering tension they’d carried for years erupt into something raw and primal.

But it was a mistake. He knew that.

His shadows slithered around him, restless as his thoughts. The morning air was cool, biting against his skin as he packed their meager supplies with deliberate precision. Every movement was an effort to drown out the memory of her body, the feel of her beneath him, the taste of her curses and her lips all at once.

The soft rustle of sheets behind him told him she was waking. He didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Already up?” her voice broke the quiet, low and husky from sleep.

Azriel didn’t pause, his tone colder than the air. “We leave in ten minutes.”

He heard her shift, the sound of her feet hitting the floor. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and in the silence, he allowed himself a glance.

She looked… different in the soft morning light. No less fierce, but there was something raw about her, a vulnerability he didn’t want to acknowledge. Her hair was tousled, her expression guarded, but her eyes—gods, those eyes. They betrayed her for a heartbeat, flashing with hurt before they iced over.

“Right,” she said flatly, turning away to gather her things. “Wouldn’t want to waste time.”

The words were casual, but he could feel the edge in them, sharp enough to cut. He deserved it. He’d known that last night would hurt her, and he’d done it anyway.

His jaw tightened as he turned back to his task, pretending not to notice the quickness with which she dressed, the stiffness in her movements. Pretending not to feel the weight of the silence between them.

Azriel’s thoughts churned, a chaotic mess he couldn’t untangle. He’d spent years keeping his distance, convincing himself it was better that way. Safer. For her. For him.

But he hadn’t truly stayed away. He’d watched from the shadows, making sure she didn’t stumble into trouble she couldn’t handle. It was obsession, maybe. Or guilt. Or something he couldn’t name.

And last night had only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have let her pull him under. But the moment her lips had met his, all his carefully constructed walls had crumbled. And now, standing here in the cold light of morning, he couldn’t escape the truth of it: he wanted her still.

Not just her body, though that was seared into his mind like a brand. He wanted her fire, her defiance, the way she challenged him like no one else dared.

And gods help him, he hated her for it.

Because she had ruined him, too.

The memory of her betrayal—her lies—burned like a fresh wound. Her false information had led to disaster, and he’d paid the price. They both had. He could still see the fallout, the chaos it had caused, the look on her face when the consequences had come crashing down.

He shoved the thought aside, his jaw clenched as he swung his pack over his shoulder.

“We’re late,” he said curtly, breaking the silence.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “I’m ready.”

They left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind them.

As they walked through the quiet streets, the tension between them was palpable. His shadows twitched, brushing against her arm as if they had a mind of their own. He saw her stiffen at the contact, her gaze snapping to his in annoyance.

“Can you control those things for once?” she muttered.

“Can you stop giving orders for once?” he shot back, his voice colder than he intended.

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she quickened her pace, as if putting distance between them would lessen the weight of the silence.

Azriel watched her, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt, anger, and something he refused to name. She was infuriating. Stubborn. Beautiful.

And gods help him, he didn’t know how to let her go.

The trail they followed wound through dense woods, the kind that swallowed sound and sight in equal measure. Every step was accompanied by the crunch of leaves underfoot, though Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about stealth. Her frustration at the male stalking behind her simmered too hotly for that. If Azriel wanted her to be quiet, he could damn well walk faster and take the lead. But no—he kept his distance, keeping to his shadows as if they were the only things he trusted.

And maybe they were.

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened as she stomped down the uneven path, the tension between them suffocating. She didn’t dare look back, not when the memory of last night still clung to her like a second skin. She’d woken up to find him already dressed and preparing, his expression shuttered, his voice clipped.

A mistake.

That word had cut deeper than any blade. She hated herself for the flash of hurt he must’ve seen in her eyes before she managed to lock it away. Hated him even more for the way he seemed so unbothered, as if it hadn’t meant anything to him.

She gritted her teeth, her mind replaying his cold tone as she finally muttered, “You know, if I’m such a liability, why don’t you just leave me behind?”

Azriel didn’t answer immediately, though she knew he’d heard her. His shadows slithered across the ground toward her, curling near her boots as if they, too, wanted to silence her.

His voice, when it came, was clipped and devoid of emotion. “We’ve been over this. I need you. You need me. We both have the same goal. Malrik’s loyalists won’t hand themselves over for interrogation.”

The mention of Malrik set her blood boiling, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the danger he posed or the fact that Azriel’s words had come with such detachment—I need you, not I want you. Not I care about you.

“Right,” she muttered, rolling her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her face. “Because that worked so well last time.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, but Azriel didn’t take the bait. Of course he didn’t. He never rose to her provocations unless it served some purpose, and right now, his silence only made her anger burn hotter.

The tension between them had her so distracted that she nearly missed the sound. Nearly.

A twig snapped, sharp and sudden, slicing through the oppressive quiet of the forest.

Y/N froze instantly, her instincts kicking in as she gripped her weapon. Her heart raced, but her body stayed perfectly still. She didn’t need to look back to know Azriel had stopped, too. His shadows darted out like vipers, curling through the trees in search of the source.

“Move,” Azriel hissed, his voice low but urgent.

Before she could process his command, he shoved her behind a tree. The force of it knocked the air from her lungs, and she barely had time to steady herself before an arrow flew past, embedding itself in the bark where she’d been standing a second ago.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she peered out from behind the tree. Figures emerged from the shadows—six of them, maybe more. Their movements were too calculated, too precise for common bandits. These were professionals.

“Well, well,” one of the mercenaries drawled, his scarred face splitting into a grin. “Looks like we caught ourselves a pretty bird and her handler.”

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened, her pulse thundering in her ears. She could feel Azriel’s presence behind her, could feel the shift in the air as his shadows slithered around them. The tension between them was nothing compared to the danger standing before them now.

Azriel stepped out from behind the tree, his wings partially spread, his blade gleaming in the dim light filtering through the canopy. He looked every bit the terrifying Illyrian warrior the stories warned of, his shadows curling around his feet like living smoke.

“Leave now,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as steel. “And you’ll live.”

The mercenary laughed, the sound rough and mocking. “Oh, I don’t think so, shadow boy. Malrik wants your heads, and he’s paying well for them.”

Y/N stepped out then, her own blade at the ready. Her pulse steadied as adrenaline took over, her focus sharpening. “If you think Malrik’s gold is worth your lives, be my guest.”

The mercenary’s grin widened. “Feisty. I like her.” He raised his hand, and the rest of the group moved as one, fanning out to surround them.

Azriel shot her a warning look. “Stay close,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

She bristled at the command but didn’t argue. They could hash out their differences later—if they survived this.

The first mercenary lunged, his blade aimed at Azriel’s throat. Azriel moved like a shadow, his dagger flashing as he parried the attack and countered with brutal efficiency.

Y/N barely had time to take it in before another mercenary was on her, his blade slashing toward her midsection. She sidestepped, bringing her own weapon up in a fluid arc that caught him across the shoulder. He staggered but didn’t fall, and she had to duck as another mercenary came at her from the side.

The fight descended into chaos, the sounds of steel meeting steel echoing through the forest. Y/N moved with precision, her strikes landing with deadly accuracy. But the mercenaries were relentless, their coordination suggesting they’d fought together before.

At one point, she felt a presence at her back and whirled, only to see Azriel there, his blade slicing through the throat of a mercenary who’d gotten too close. His shadows curled protectively around her for a moment before he moved away, his attention snapping back to the fight.

Her breath hitched, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Another mercenary lunged at her, his strike aimed at her head. She ducked and retaliated, driving her blade into his side. He went down with a grunt, but she barely had time to catch her breath before another took his place.

The fight was brutal, and for a moment, it seemed like they might be overwhelmed. But then Azriel’s shadows surged, wrapping around two of the mercenaries and dragging them to the ground. He moved with lethal grace, his blade flashing as he finished them off.

The remaining mercenaries hesitated, their confidence wavering as they realized they were outmatched.

“Leave,” Azriel snarled, his voice low and deadly.

This time, they listened. The survivors turned and fled, disappearing into the trees.

Y/N lowered her blade, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached, her muscles screaming in protest, but she forced herself to stand tall.

Azriel turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away, cleaning his blade with practiced efficiency.

The tension between them hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown worse. But for now, there was silence, broken only by the distant sound of the mercenaries retreating.

Y/N stared after them, her thoughts a chaotic mess. She’d survived worse fights, but something about this one felt different—something about the way Azriel had looked at her, the way his shadows had curled around her like a shield.

She didn’t know what to make of it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

After a couple of hours, the forest gave way to a clearing bathed in the glow of an early sunrise, the light slicing through the lingering mist. Y/N pushed past a dense tangle of branches, Azriel a step behind her, his shadows still coiling warily as if the mercenaries from earlier might reappear. Her muscles ached from the fight, and her patience was worn thin.

They had only just stepped into the clearing when Y/N froze.

Figures—at least five of them—stood gathered near the center, a flickering fire between them. They were armed and armored, their postures relaxed but alert. The glint of steel and polished leather caught the light, and though they looked at ease, the tension in the air was unmistakable.

“More of Malrik’s men?” Y/N muttered, her hand instinctively tightening around her blade.

Azriel’s shadows slithered forward, testing the air around the strangers. “No,” he said quietly. “Not mercenaries. But not friends, either.”

The figures turned as one, their conversation cutting off as they noticed the new arrivals. Y/N’s stomach twisted. They hadn’t been expecting anyone here, and whoever these people were, they looked like they could hold their own in a fight.

The leader of the group—a tall female with auburn hair braided down her back—stepped forward. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flicked between Y/N and Azriel. “Well, isn’t this a surprise?” she said, her voice smooth but carrying an edge. “And here I thought this little corner of the forest was supposed to be quiet.”

Azriel stepped in front of Y/N, his shadows curling around his shoulders like a cloak. “We don’t want trouble,” he said evenly.

The female arched a brow. “Funny, considering you look like trouble incarnate.” Her gaze drifted to Y/N, lingering for a moment before returning to Azriel. “You don’t look like you’re from around here. What brings you to our woods?”

Before Azriel could respond, another figure stepped forward—a male. He was taller than the others, his dark hair curling slightly at the ends, a sword strapped to his back and a dagger at his hip. His eyes were a startling shade of green, sharp and unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

“Raya,” the male drawled, addressing the woman. “Let’s not scare our guests off just yet. They’ve already had a rough night, judging by the state of them.” His gaze flicked over Y/N, lingering on the dried blood streaked across her cheek and the dirt smudged on her gear.

Y/N bristled under his scrutiny, raising her chin. “We didn’t realize we were trespassing,” she said coolly.

“Of course you didn’t,” the man said, his smirk widening. “That’s what makes it so much fun to catch fae like you off guard.”

“Enough, Cade,” Raya said sharply, shooting the man a warning look. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin never left his face.

Raya turned her attention back to Y/N and Azriel. “These woods are dangerous, in case you hadn’t noticed. Fae like you don’t usually wander in without a reason.”

Y/N hesitated, weighing her options. She didn’t trust these people, but the group was clearly organized, well-armed, and familiar with the terrain. If they were looking for Malrik’s loyalists, these strangers might know something useful.

“We’re looking for someone,” she said finally, ignoring Azriel’s sharp look.

The group exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was Cade who broke the silence, his smirk replaced by a more serious expression. “And who, exactly, are you looking for?”

“Malrik’s men,” Azriel said, his voice hard. “We’re tracking them.”

That got their attention. The tension in the clearing shifted, the casual postures of the group becoming more guarded.

“You’re hunting Malrik’s men?” Raya said, her tone skeptical. “Why?”

“Because they’re a threat,” Y/N said simply.

Cade laughed, the sound low and rough. “A threat? That’s putting it lightly. They’re practically crawling all over these woods. You’ll need more than the two of you to take them on.”

“Maybe we’re not the only ones who want them gone,” Y/N said, her tone sharp.

Raya tilted her head, studying her. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that if you know something, you share it,” Y/N said, stepping closer. “We’re after the same thing. Help us, or stay out of our way.”

The group went silent, their eyes darting between Raya and Cade. For a moment, it seemed like they might refuse. But then Cade stepped forward, his green eyes locking on Y/N’s.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice dropping into a low drawl. “We’ve got a camp not far from here. Come with us, and we’ll talk.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel. His expression was unreadable, but his shadows were curling tighter around him, a sign of his unease.

“We’ll follow,” Azriel said at last, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cade’s smirk returned. “Good. Try to keep up, shadow boy.”

As the group began to move, Y/N fell into step beside Azriel, her thoughts racing. She didn’t trust these people—especially not Cade, with his infuriating smirk and sharp eyes. But if they knew anything about Malrik’s men, they couldn’t afford to walk away.

Still, as they followed the group deeper into the woods, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d just stepped into something much bigger than a simple hunt for mercenaries.

The trek toward the camp stretched on, the forest around them dense and humming with the subtle sounds of life. Cade led the way, his steps light and confident, while the others moved in a loose formation, clearly comfortable navigating the terrain. Y/N kept her eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of danger, though the group’s relaxed demeanor suggested they weren’t worried about threats.

She felt Azriel's presence like a shadow at her back—silent, watchful, and brooding. It was a constant reminder of their earlier argument, and the weight of his frustration pressed against her like a physical thing.

“So,” Cade said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s a girl like you doing running around with shadow boy over there?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t exactly scream ‘spymaster lackey,’” Cade continued, ignoring Azriel entirely. “No offense, shadow boy.”

Azriel didn’t respond, but Y/N could feel the temperature drop as his shadows tightened, curling around him like restless smoke.

“I’m not his lackey,” she said coolly, stepping over a fallen branch.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Cade grinned, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re a little too... fiery to be running around on a leash.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Fiery?”

“It’s a compliment,” he said with a wink. “Though, if we’re being honest, I’d peg you as more of a wildfire. Unpredictable. Dangerous. The kind that burns a man alive if he’s not careful.”

Despite herself, Y/N felt a flicker of amusement. “That’s a lot of assumptions for someone who doesn’t even know my name.”

“Oh, I don’t need your name to know you’re trouble,” Cade replied, his grin widening. “It’s written all over you.”

She shook her head, biting back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re deflecting.” Cade’s tone turned teasing, his gaze flicking over her with open curiosity. “So, what’s your story, wildfire? How’d you end up chasing mercenaries with a shadow-slinging brooder?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but a low, dangerous growl from behind her cut through the air. She glanced over her shoulder to find Azriel glaring at Cade, his shadows curling tighter, darker.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the path?” Azriel said, his voice cold and quiet, the kind that sent shivers down her spine.

Cade, to her surprise, didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he shrugged, completely unfazed. “The path’s not going anywhere. Besides, I’d hate to miss the chance to get to know your lovely companion here.”

Azriel’s steps quickened, and suddenly he was at her side, his towering presence making it clear that Cade’s banter had crossed a line. Y/N felt the air between them shift, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

“Maybe focus on getting us to the camp,” Azriel said, his voice like steel.

Cade just smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Relax, shadow boy. No harm in a little conversation. Or are you afraid she might like me better?”

Y/N couldn’t help the startled laugh that escaped her, though she quickly masked it with a cough. Azriel shot her a sharp look, his jaw tightening.

Raya, walking a few steps ahead, sighed audibly. “Cade, shut up before I gag you. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Aw, Raya, don’t be jealous,” Cade said with a mock pout. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable,” Raya muttered, shaking her head. Then, turning to Y/N, she added, “Don’t let him fool you. He talks a lot, but it’s mostly nonsense.”

“I’m starting to get that,” Y/N replied dryly, though her lips twitched.

Azriel said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on Cade like a hawk watching its prey. Y/N could practically feel the restraint it was taking for him not to lash out. She nudged him with her elbow, whispering, “Relax. He’s harmless.”

Azriel didn’t look at her, but his voice was low and taut. “I don’t like him.”

“Shocking,” Y/N muttered under her breath, earning her a sidelong glare.

Finally, the trees parted, revealing a sprawling camp nestled in a natural hollow. Tents of various sizes dotted the area, their canvas sides fluttering in the breeze. A large fire burned in the center, and several figures moved about, their movements purposeful and efficient. Despite its rough appearance, the camp was well-organized, and Y/N couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Cade said with a dramatic flourish. “It’s not much, but it keeps us alive.”

“Barely,” Raya muttered, striding past him.

Cade ignored her, his attention once again fixed on Y/N. “Come on, wildfire. Let me give you the grand tour.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Grand tour of tents and dirt? Tempting.”

“You’d be surprised what secrets this place holds,” Cade said with a wink. “Stick with me, and I’ll show you all the best spots.”

Before Y/N could respond, Azriel stepped forward. “We’re not splitting up.”

Raya turned to him, her expression hardening. “You are. The elder wants to speak with you, shadow boy.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I don’t answer to your elder.”

“You do if you want our help,” Raya shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N placed a hand on Azriel’s arm, meeting his icy stare. “It’s fine. Go with her. I’ll be fine with Cade.”

Azriel’s gaze darkened, his voice a low growl. “No.”

Y/N sighed, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “Some distance from you would be good, Azriel. I’m tired of seeing your face.”

From somewhere behind her, Cade’s amused voice whispered, “Ugly one at that.”

Azriel moved so fast she barely had time to react, but Raya was quicker. She stepped between him and Cade, her voice sharp and commanding. “Enough. You’re going with me, whether you like it or not.”

Azriel’s glare could have melted steel, but Raya didn’t flinch. With a frustrated growl, he finally turned away, his shadows writhing around him.

Cade grinned, holding out a hand toward Y/N. “Shall we?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel’s retreating form. He didn’t look back, but she could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to Cade. “Lead the way.”

Azriel followed Raya through the winding paths of the camp, his strides measured but laced with a tension he couldn’t shake. His shadows rippled restlessly around him, curling and unfurling like they too sensed the storm brewing inside him.

Cade’s smirking face lingered in his mind, every smug word replaying over and over like a taunt. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the urge to turn back and rip the grin off that idiot’s face almost overwhelming. But it wasn’t Cade that truly haunted him—it was the way Y/N had looked at him.

Her faint amusement. The way she’d allowed Cade’s attention, even if she didn’t encourage it.

Why did that bother him so much?

Azriel ground his teeth, the questions cutting deep as he walked. Why did it matter if she found Cade’s banter entertaining? Or if she thought Cade was charming? Hell, she probably did. Cade was... Cade. Confident, carefree, and the type of male who wore his charm like a damn badge of honor.

Azriel’s steps faltered.

Maybe she’d be happier with someone like that. Someone who could smile easily and joke without shadows clouding every word. Someone who wasn’t... him.

No.

The thought sliced through his mind like a whip, swift and brutal. The idea of her with anyone else made his chest tighten painfully, his shadows darken dangerously. Cade. Any male. It didn’t matter. None of them deserved her.

She could only ever be—

Azriel froze mid-thought, his breath catching as the realization clawed at him. With me.

His mind reeled, the emotions swirling in a storm of jealousy, fury, and something he refused to name. How had it come to this? How had she embedded herself so deeply into him that even the thought of her entertaining another male made him want to burn the world to ash?

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this—not again.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, guilt twisting in his gut. He didn’t deserve this—her. She deserved better. Someone who could offer her light and laughter, not shadows and scars. Not pain and betrayal.

And yet, despite knowing all of that, the selfish part of him—the foolish part of him—wanted her anyway.

“Trouble in paradise?” Raya’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, dry and laced with amusement.

Azriel blinked, his head snapping toward her. He hadn’t realized she’d been watching him.

“Not in the mood,” he muttered, his tone sharper than intended.

Raya snorted. “You’re walking around like someone stole your favorite dagger. Let me guess: it’s about your lovely companion and Cade’s endless charm.”

Azriel’s shadows flared before he could stop them, and Raya laughed, shaking her head.

“Thought so,” she said. “Don’t worry, shadow boy. Cade’s an idiot, but he’s harmless. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Azriel asked, his voice low, his shadows darkening further.

Raya waved a hand dismissively. “He talks a lot, but he’s not stupid. He knows when to back off... usually.” She glanced at him, her tone turning serious. “You should trust her. She doesn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed.”

Azriel said nothing, his jaw tightening as they continued walking. Trust her? He did. But that didn’t mean he trusted Cade—or any male, for that matter.

They reached a small hut near the center of the camp, its wooden structure weathered but sturdy. Smoke curled lazily from a small chimney, and the faint scent of herbs and earth lingered in the air.

Raya pushed open the door without hesitation, motioning for Azriel to follow.

Inside, the space was warm and dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves overflowing with jars, trinkets, and scrolls. A low table sat in the center, surrounded by cushions, and an elderly figure hunched over it, her hands moving deftly as she sorted through a collection of dried leaves.

The elder looked up as they entered, her eyes sharp and knowing despite the deep lines that etched her face. Her hair was a striking silver, braided down her back, and her presence filled the room like a force of nature.

Raya spoke first, her words flowing in a language Azriel didn’t recognize. The elder responded in kind, her voice steady and measured, though her eyes never left Azriel.

Finally, Raya turned to him. “The elder will speak with you now. Try to be polite.”

With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Azriel inclined his head slightly, stepping further into the room.

“You are not what I expected,” the elder said, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Azriel raised a brow. “And what did you expect?”

The elder smiled faintly, gesturing for him to sit. “A male less... shrouded.”

He didn’t move. “We won’t be staying long. I only need information on Malrik.”

The elder chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Always so impatient, your kind. Sit, shadow boy. I am older than your parents combined, and I don’t have time for your posturing.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, but he sat, his shadows shifting uneasily. “Why are you helping us?”

The elder leaned back, studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. “Because Malrik is dangerous, and you would not be here unless you had reason to stop him.”

Azriel hesitated, weighing his words carefully. Finally, he said, “He’s gathering forces, planning something larger.”

The elder nodded slowly. “You are right to be wary. Malrik has aligned himself with dark forces—forces that crave power and destruction. He is not a simple mercenary. He is a predator, and his sights are set on far more than this forest.”

“Where is he?” Azriel asked, his voice taut.

The elder’s expression darkened. “North of here, beyond the river. He has a stronghold hidden in the cliffs. But be warned—his forces are not easily overcome.”

Azriel nodded, his mind already calculating their next move. “Thank you for the information.”

The elder’s gaze softened slightly. “Be careful, shadow boy. The path you walk is treacherous, and the stakes are higher than you realize.”

Azriel didn’t respond, rising to his feet.

“You and your companion may stay here for the night,” the elder added. “But do not linger. The longer you stay, the more dangerous it becomes.”

With a curt nod, Azriel left the hut, his mind a whirlwind of plans and unresolved emotions.

He had left Y/N alone with Cade for far too long.

Y/n’s laughter had been constant throughout the tour, a sound she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much. Cade’s charisma was infectious, his humor weaving through the air like a gentle breeze, pushing aside the heavy thoughts that always loomed in her mind. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no Azriel, no Malrik, no looming threats. There was just Cade, a bright presence, bringing lightness to her soul that she hadn’t known she needed.

Every joke Cade made felt like a small reprieve, each laugh an escape from the oppressive heaviness of her reality. His voice was like a soothing melody, lifting her spirits with every word he spoke, each playful comment distracting her from the constant weight of responsibility and turmoil. She had almost forgotten what it was like to simply be, to not be at war with herself or the world around her.

As the tour wound to its end, Cade finally turned to her with a grin, his hands brushing against his jacket as if closing a book.

"And that, my lady, is the grand tour," he declared, bowing dramatically. "Voila, your room, your kingdom."

Y/n’s laughter bubbled up again, and she felt a little lighter, a little freer. She didn’t even realize how deeply his presence had begun to impact her until this moment—until the joy had settled over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

But then, something shifted. Cade’s hand, warm and playful, slid around her waist. The movement was casual, natural, as if they had known each other for ages. Y/n stiffened for a brief moment—until the sharp chill of a shadow cut through the air.

Before she could even process the change, a blast of dark power pierced the moment, and Cade was forced to recoil. The sudden pain contorted his face as he jerked his hand back, clutching at it. Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her eyes flashing to the source.

Azriel.

He moved toward them with a deadly quiet, his presence like an icy storm sweeping over the area. His eyes locked onto Cade, and the space between them froze in an instant. Y/n felt the pulse of tension in the air as Azriel’s gaze bore through Cade, his jaw clenched, the coldness radiating from him sending a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Cade, are you alright?" Y/n found herself asking instinctively, her hand reaching for him, wanting to help.

Cade, ever the charmer, brushed off his injury with a smile, despite the clear wince of pain. "I’m fine. No need to worry, my lady. See? Hardly a scratch."

But Y/n was already turning, irritation bubbling under her skin as she faced Azriel. His expression was unreadable, his icy demeanor masking something far darker lurking underneath.

"Azriel," she began, her voice sharp with an edge of frustration, "why the hell would you—?"

Before she could finish, Azriel was already cutting her off, his voice low and controlled. "They gave us a room. Let’s go."

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his commanding tone. The words were like a cold slap to her face, a harsh reminder of who Azriel was—what he was capable of.

"No," she shot back, standing firm. "I’m staying here with Cade. He showed me to my room."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his voice slipping into a low growl. "You’ll be coming with me." His gaze flickered to Cade, a clear challenge in his eyes, and it wasn’t long before Cade, seemingly unaffected, fired back.

"A room close to mine," he stated, his grin mischievous, as though taunting Azriel to escalate the situation.

Y/n’s heart twisted. She could feel the storm brewing between them, the undeniable pull of their conflict—a storm that had been building for far too long. And then, just like that, the tension snapped. Azriel didn’t wait. He lunged forward, a blur of motion, and before anyone could react, he had Cade pinned against the wall. The air crackled with the promise of violence, and Y/n’s pulse raced as she realized just how far things had already gone.

"Cade!" Y/n shouted, rushing forward, but it was Raya who managed to break them apart, her voice commanding as she barked orders.

"Get back, Y/n! Now!" Raya’s voice was like a whip, cutting through the chaos.

Y/n hesitated only for a moment before she grabbed Azriel’s arm, pulling him away with surprising strength as Raya moved to separate Cade from the mess. The citizens had gathered, whispering, eyes wide, watching the spectacle unfold, and Y/n could feel their stares on her as if she were the cause of all this madness.

"Get him away," Raya demanded, her voice cold and stern. Y/n’s own anger flared as she guided Azriel, pushing him towards the room that had been assigned to them.

When they finally reached the door, Y/n slammed it shut behind them, her breath heavy with a mix of anger and frustration. Azriel, ever the master of control, seemed unfazed on the surface, but she could see the simmering fury beneath his calm mask. He was coiled tight, ready to strike—at her, at anyone who dared to challenge him.

Y/n was silent for a moment, her back pressed against the door as she tried to steady herself. When she turned to face him, she saw the tension in his jaw, the tightening of his fists.

"Azriel," she started, her voice quieter than before, though the fury still laced her words. "You can’t just... you can’t keep doing this."

He met her gaze with the cold, deadly calm that he always wore, but she could see it in his eyes—the hunger, the need for control, the need to make her bend to him.

And it disgusted her.

"Sit down," she demanded, her tone sharp as she moved past him to find medical supplies. "You’re hurt."

Azriel didn’t argue, though there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. He sat on the chair, his body tense, the only sign of his earlier aggression still visible in the way he held himself.

Y/n moved toward him, her hands working to gather the supplies. The silence between them stretched, heavy and thick with unspoken words. As she gently touched his wounds, applying the ointment with careful precision, the moment stretched out into something… more.

"You’re still the same," she whispered, barely audible, her hands hesitating as she met his gaze. "Nothing has changed."

Azriel's voice was low and edged with a dangerous kind of amusement. "What do you mean by that?"

Y/n leaned down to tend to the injury on his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. As she reached to dab at the wound, her hand brushed across his lips. The world seemed to still, the air thick with tension. Azriel’s gaze locked on her, heat swirling in his dark eyes. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her finger, and before she could react, his tongue darted out, catching the tip of her finger.

She gasped, her body freezing as the sensation of his touch ignited something inside her that she had thought long buried. Her thoughts scattered, and for a moment, she forgot herself.

"Divine," Azriel murmured, his voice thick, the word leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Her breath caught in her throat. No. She would not fall for this again. Not after everything.

Y/n jerked back, pulling her hand away from him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Let me go," she whispered, her voice shaky with a mixture of rage and something darker.

Azriel reached for her again, but this time, she was quicker. "You’re not getting away from me that easily," he muttered, though the dark hunger in his eyes made her heart twist.

But she wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t fall for it. She wouldn’t let herself believe that she could forgive him, not again, not after everything he had done.

"Why?" she spat suddenly, her voice low but raw. "Why did you care, Azriel? Why does it matter to you now?"

Azriel’s expression froze, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Y/n's words spilled out, as if they had been building for years, for lifetimes, ready to erupt.

"Because of you," she hissed, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Because you banished me. You took everything from me, Azriel. It was because of you that I ended up in Malrik’s path. He raped me. Is that what you wanted to hear? You wanted to hear the truth, Azriel? There it is."

The room fell silent. Azriel’s body froze, his eyes wide with shock and something else—something almost darker than fury.

"Wh—what?" Azriel’s voice was cold, barely a whisper, and she could hear the tremble in it.

Y/n’s gaze hardened. She would not give him the satisfaction of her pain. Not again.

"You heard me," she said, her voice breaking only slightly. "Forget it, Azriel. I don’t need your pity. I never wanted it from you."

Azriel’s eyes burned, but she wasn’t looking for the comfort of his gaze. She was too far gone. Too broken.

"Do you care now, Azriel?" she mocked, laughing bitterly. "After everything? After you helped ruin my life?"

Azriel took a step toward her, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Don’t test me," he warned, his voice dangerously low. "What did you just say?"

Y/n didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The damage was already done.

With one final, cold laugh, she turned on her heel, heading for the door. "You don’t deserve to know."

And with that, she left him standing in the silence of the room—his world slowly crumbling around him.

Azriel’s fists were clenched so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms, the pain a welcome distraction from the fury that churned through him. His mind raced, every thought tangled in a mess of rage, guilt, and self-loathing, each one more suffocating than the last. Malrik’s name burned through his veins like acid, every breath he took a reminder of the horror that had unfolded—the horror he had failed to stop. He could feel his body trembling with barely contained violence, a force ready to break free at the first opportunity. But it was not just Malrik’s face he saw when his mind closed in. It was hers.

Y/n.

He couldn’t escape the memory of her—her eyes wide, brimming with raw pain as she recounted the depths of what had happened to her. It was the sound of her voice, trembling, the way her hands had jerked away from him as though his touch had poisoned her. It was the coldness that had filled the space between them. It was the utter betrayal he had felt in her eyes, as though every part of her had been shattered by him. By him.

The realization gnawed at his insides like a feral beast. He had been so blind, so consumed by his own guilt and his obsession with keeping control, that he had failed her when she needed him the most. When she had needed him most.

And then, the worst part—the piece of his own tortured soul that he couldn't escape from. That night, when everything had gone wrong, when Y/n had needed someone to chase after her, someone to protect her, someone to care, he had stood there, frozen. Frozen.

His mind had screamed at him to go after her, to chase her down and hold her in his arms, to assure her that he would never let anyone hurt her again. But he hadn’t. He had stayed behind in that wretched room, wallowing in his guilt, knowing that he didn’t deserve to comfort her. He didn’t deserve her.

The thought was like a jagged knife in his heart. How could he, when he had failed her so utterly, so completely? He was the one who had let her down. He was the one who had failed to protect her, who had let the world hurt her.

His rage reached new heights as he thought of Malrik’s name again. The bastard. The monster. Malrik had taken something so precious from her, and Azriel had been too weak, too much of a coward to stop it.

Not again.

Azriel’s chest heaved as the thought surged forward, becoming his singular focus. He would make Malrik pay. He would make him suffer in ways that no man—no monster—could endure. The bastard would feel every single second of pain that Y/n had felt. And more. The thought of what Malrik had done to her filled him with a fury so overwhelming that it threatened to break the walls of control Azriel had built around himself.

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. His mind wouldn’t allow him to. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face again—the raw emotion in her eyes, the betrayal, the pain. The tears that had gathered there but never fell.

Instead, he planned. He planned every agonizing moment of Malrik’s downfall. Every strike, every word he would say to break him. He would make sure Malrik understood what it felt like to be stripped of everything, to have everything he had ever known taken from him in the most brutal of ways.

But even as he planned, even as he dreamed of tearing Malrik apart, a part of him knew—knew—he wasn’t doing it for vengeance. He wasn’t doing it to make the world right again. No. He was doing it for Y/n. He was doing it because she needed him, even if she couldn’t see that right now. Because she would need him again, whether she admitted it or not. He would be there, in the shadows, ready to protect her when she was ready to accept him.

That thought—her needing him again—kept him from completely losing himself. He would keep her safe, even from himself. Even if she never looked at him the same way again, even if she never forgave him, he would keep her safe. That was the only promise he could make.

Morning came slowly. The dim light of dawn crept through the window, casting long, slanted shadows across the room. Azriel felt the weight of the night’s torment lift, but only slightly. His chest still ached with the burden of guilt, but he knew there was work to be done. There was always work to be done.

He stood, stretching his arms above his head, the tension still lingering in his body as he gathered himself. His heart thundered in his chest as his eyes fell upon the door.

He had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her once, but not again.

With one last glance around the room, Azriel stepped otside, his footsteps silent as he moved down the road. The cool air of the early morning settled on his skin, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the camp stirring to life.

He knew she would be out there. He could feel her. He could sense her presence in the air like a faint pull at his soul, the connection between them still there, even after everything. He would find her.

And as he rounded a big tree, he saw her.

Y/n.

Her back was to him, her posture stiff, her shoulders hunched in a way that made his stomach twist. She sat on a log near the fire pit, Raya beside her. Neither of them looked particularly happy. Azriel could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way she barely seemed to move, the way her eyes flicked to the ground as if avoiding something. It was clear she wasn’t okay.

Raya spoke, her voice too soft to be heard from where Azriel stood, but Y/n didn’t answer. Not with words. She barely moved. Azriel’s heart clenched at the sight. She looked so fragile, so broken, and it was all his fault.

His anger flared again, but this time, it was directed inward. At himself.

He wasn’t enough for her. He had never been enough. He had always tried to push away his feelings, tried to convince himself that his duty to his people, his loyalty to the shadows, was enough to make up for the coldness he hid behind. But it hadn’t been. It had never been.

And now, here she was, sitting there, broken and lost, because of him.

But he couldn’t let this continue. He couldn’t let her be alone in this. No matter what she thought of him, no matter how much she hated him, he would not leave her like this.

She would never be alone again.

Stepping forward, he moved with the silence of the shadows that had always been his ally, coming up behind her.

Y/n didn’t notice him approach, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching her. His heart twisted in his chest, but his gaze hardened. There would be no more hesitation. No more hiding behind his guilt.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned slowly to look at him. Her eyes, dull and filled with something he couldn’t place, met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

She said nothing, and yet everything in her screamed at him.

But Azriel didn’t look away. Not this time. Not when she needed him most.

"I swear to you," he said, his voice low and laced with a promise, "Malrik will pay. And no matter what you think of me, no matter how much you despise me, I will keep you safe."

She didn’t answer, but the faintest flicker in her eyes told him that she had heard him. It was a small step, but it was a step.

And it was enough.

Azriel stood there, resolute. He would make Malrik pay. He would make the bastard regret ever laying a finger on her.

And as the first rays of sunlight crept across the horizon, he knew—he would always fight for her.

No matter what.

Y/n’s steps were slow, measured, her body almost dragging behind the others. The forest around her seemed distant, even though it was right in front of her. The towering trees, the chirping birds, the rustle of leaves—they were just noises in the background, blending into the dullness of everything else. There was a weight in her chest, one that felt like it was pressing down on her lungs, suffocating her.

It was an unfamiliar kind of silence. The quiet between her and Azriel was thicker than it had ever been, and for once, she didn’t even have the energy to make some biting remark, to lash out. The fire that usually burned inside her, the defiance, the sharpness—it was gone.

Everything felt numb. Everything.

Azriel had been silent too, his usual stoic expression betraying a deep strain that had only grown worse over the hours. She could feel his gaze on her, though she didn’t dare look back at him. She couldn’t. The thought of meeting his eyes—of seeing that guilt, that sorrow written across his face—was almost too much.

She hadn’t said a word since they’d left camp. Neither of them had. The only sounds between them were their footsteps on the forest floor, the soft crackling of twigs underfoot. She was surprised she hadn’t heard Azriel speak, to ask her something, to break the silence. But he hadn’t. Instead, his presence lingered behind her like an invisible weight, an oppressive force that made every breath she took feel shallow.

Eventually, they reached a clearing. The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled light over the soft grass. A small lake stretched out before them, its surface as still as the air around it. It was almost eerie, the quietness of it all, and Y/n found herself standing there for a moment longer than she intended, as if waiting for something—anything—to change.

Azriel, however, came to an abrupt stop, causing Y/n to halt as well. He turned to face her, his eyes flicking to the water briefly before meeting her gaze. His jaw tightened, the lines of his face hardening in that way they always did when he was deep in thought.

"We stop here," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Malrik’s place is close. We need to make the final plan."

Y/n just nodded. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel anything. The words fell flat in her mind, the weight of the situation not even penetrating her numbness. Azriel’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his brow furrowed, like he was waiting for something. But she didn’t offer anything. Not a word. Not a glance. Nothing.

Azriel sighed deeply. It was a sound full of weariness and frustration, and when she finally looked up at him, she saw something she hadn’t expected—guilt. A deep, gnawing kind of guilt that twisted at the corners of his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. His eyes dropped to the ground, then flicked back to hers.

"Y/n," he began, his voice low, almost too quiet, "I know what I did… I can’t fix it, but I need you to understand." He paused, visibly gathering his thoughts, as though the weight of his words was more than he could bear.

She stood still, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed firmly on him. She was cold, distant—detached. It wasn’t that she wanted to ignore him. It was just… easier this way. It hurt too much to feel anything else.

"I made the choice to protect the rest of the team," Azriel continued, his voice hoarse with regret. "I didn’t believe you, but I did it to protect the network, the people we worked with. I… I spread the lie that you were a traitor to keep suspicion off of everyone else. To keep the integrity of the mission intact."

His words hung in the air between them, each one a sharp reminder of the betrayal. But Y/n wasn’t surprised. She didn’t even feel the sting anymore. She had lived with it for so long, she had become numb to the pain of it all.

Azriel’s voice faltered when he saw her reaction—or lack of one. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t react the way he had hoped. Instead, her eyes were flat, distant, as if the words didn’t matter anymore.

"That day…" Azriel’s breath caught in his throat. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not believing you. I thought—"

Y/n’s eyes flicked to him, the coldness in her gaze sharper than any dagger. She cut him off before he could finish.

"Really?" she asked, her voice flat, a dull edge to the words that cut deeper than any shout. "That’s all you have to say? That’s how little you believed in me, after everything I did for you? After everything I gave you?"

Her words were like ice, and each syllable seemed to strike Azriel like a hammer against his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. The guilt was so thick in his throat he couldn’t find the words. He had hurt her so deeply, and now, there was nothing he could do to make it right.

"You branded me a traitor," Y/n continued, her voice cold and cutting. "I was forced to flee, branded and cast out, with no home, no life to go back to. And do you know what happened then? Do you know what happened when you turned your back on me?" She paused, her eyes now dark and distant as if she were reliving the memories in that very moment.

Azriel’s chest tightened. He could see the pain there, in her eyes, even though her face remained an emotionless mask.

"Malrik," she said, her voice almost a whisper, the name like venom on her tongue. "He found me, in my weakest state, when I had nothing left. He took advantage of me, twisted me into something I wasn’t. And all of it—everything that happened—was because you couldn’t believe in me."

Azriel winced, his entire body recoiling from the harshness of her words, the weight of her truth. He had never wanted to see her like this, to hear her speak of everything he had done to her. He had thought, all this time, that his actions were justified. That they were for the greater good. But now, standing in front of her, all he saw was the destruction he had wrought.

"I didn’t mean for any of it to happen," Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted you to go through that. I was wrong. I failed you, Y/n, and I can’t—I can’t fix it. I just want you to know… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her eyes cold, unyielding. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing for a moment, letting the silence hang heavy in the air.

And then, in a voice that was quiet, but somehow colder than anything Azriel had ever heard, she spoke again.

"Sorry doesn’t change anything, Azriel," she said, her words cutting through the silence. "Sorry doesn’t fix what you did. Sorry doesn’t give me back the life you took from me."

Her gaze flicked to the ground, and Azriel’s heart shattered at the hollow emptiness in her voice.

"I don’t need your apologies," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I needed you to believe in me. I needed you to trust me. But you didn’t."

And with that, she turned away, walking toward the edge of the lake, her steps distant, her posture rigid with that coldness that now seemed to define her.

Azriel stood there, motionless, the weight of her words sinking into him like a thousand blades. He had never felt such crushing guilt in his life. He had never felt so utterly lost.

But Y/n didn’t look back. Not even once.

(SMUT STARTS HERE)

Suddenly, she sighed before saying, "I hate you but I also need you."

And the next thing she knew, she was taking her clothes off, feeling his gaze behind her as she lazily entered the water. She hated how even after all of this, she wanted his gaze on her and only her.

She was still not looking at him, turned away so her back was facing him in the water as she stared into the other side of the lake. "Let's make the mistake of last night once more. After all, we won't be seeing each other once this mission's done. I don't need your useless pity. All I need is to use you now, just like you used me then."

It meant nothing, it would cut him deep and she didn't care.

Suddenly, she felt his naked chest pressing against her as he lened in to whisper in her ear, "Use me then."

Y/n's breath hitched, a tinge of surprise fluttering inside her despite the cold, calculated mask she had been wearing. She hadn’t expected him to move, to be this close again. But Azriel, ever the shadow, was right there—his presence like a storm against the stillness of the lake. His voice, a low rasp, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but she couldn't ignore the way her body reacted to his proximity. She hated it. She hated that even in this mess, even in the aftermath of betrayal, her mind still wanted him, still needed him.

"Use me then," Azriel repeated, his words a dark promise that neither comforted nor threatened. It was like he was daring her, pushing her to go further, to test the boundaries of the agony between them. He knew this was all she had left—the anger, the coldness. The way she lashed out, using her words like blades, trying to push him further away.

Her pulse quickened, but Y/n kept her face impassive, her gaze hard as she stared across the lake. The water rippled lazily around her, reflecting the overcast sky, the light barely reaching through the trees. It was all so calm—so still. And yet, inside her chest, the storm raged.

He moved then, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her against him with a gentleness that contrasted the tension in his body. His lips brushed the back of her neck, a fleeting, tender touch that nearly broke her. But Y/n stayed still, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"I’m not leaving you," Azriel murmured, his voice soft but fierce. "Not like before. Not this time."

The words hit her harder than she’d expected, and for the briefest moment, the coldness in her heart cracked open.

But she wouldn’t let it. Not now. Not ever.

"Let’s make that mistake," she said again, her voice flat, unfeeling. "But don’t think it’ll change anything."

Azriel’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her ear one last time. "I never thought it would."

And before she knew it, his hand went lower, reaching her core, causing a small gasp to leave her lips as her hand came over his arm, gripping it.

He lazily massaged her clit and she suddenly felt aware of his largee cock teasing her from behind too. And as if on cue, he entered her from the back at the same time as his finger entered her from the front.

Y/n couldn't hold the moan that escaped her lips after that, her grip tightening on his arm as azriel began thrusting into her from behind while his mouth started sucking and kissing on her neck.

Then, she felt a second finger dip into her as he began fucking her faster, his pace quickening as her moans grew louder.

"Fuck, just like that, keep moaning," Azriel said through his own growls as she leaned her head back on him for support and thats when he took the chance to capture and mark her lips.

The kiss was brutal, it was as if he wanted nothing more than to eat her alive, to forever be joined with her, to imprint himself on her. The water was rippling wildly with their movements and when he felt her clenching around his cock and fingers, he knew she was close.

But then-- then she did the unthinkable.

Azriel suddenly felt his mind go blank when Y/N reached her hand out and touched that part of his wings. Just the right area of his nerves to make him weak in the knees. With a loud groan he couldn't stop himself and released inside her, Y/N following right after him.

Their ragged breaths were all that could be heard as Y/N fell back on to his strong hold for support.

(SMUT ENDS HERE)

An hour later, the silence between them felt heavier than ever after what had transpired. The air was thick with unspoken words, emotions both raw and tumultuous swirling around them.

Y/N lay back on the soft earth beside the water’s edge, her breath still shallow from the intensity. She stared up at the sky, the clouds slowly floating away. But it wasn’t the sky that had her attention—her mind was clouded with thoughts of what had just happened. The distance between them, once so palpable, had blurred. And now, in the aftermath, she felt more lost than ever.

Azriel sat beside her, his posture tense, but there was something else—something softer in the way he looked at her, though he remained silent. He didn’t touch her, didn’t speak. But she could feel him there, present, his very presence suffocating her thoughts.

She wanted to speak. To scream, to confront him, to demand answers. But the words wouldn't come. The anger and frustration she’d been holding inside for so long—since before everything had spiraled—felt heavier now. But it wasn’t just the anger. It was confusion. Confusion about herself, about him. About what they had just shared.

He finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "Y/N…" he whispered her name, and she flinched slightly, though she didn’t look at him. "I—"

"Don’t," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want your apology. I don’t want your explanations."

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like an eternity. Her words hung in the air between them, but she didn’t regret them. She couldn’t. Not after everything.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. She could feel the weight of his stare, but she refused to meet it. She didn’t trust herself to look at him without feeling something she wasn’t ready to face.

After what felt like hours, he spoke again. "You can hate me all you want," he said quietly, his voice strained. "But I’ll never stop trying to protect you. Even if you don’t want it."

Y/N sat up, her gaze flickering over to him, though her heart twisted at the sincerity in his tone. "Why?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly despite herself. "Why now? After everything?"

He turned to her, his expression unreadable, though the shadows in his eyes seemed to deepen. "I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that I can’t walk away. Not from you."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she thought she might fall apart. Instead, she swallowed, her walls—barely held up to begin with—beginning to crack.

"You think that changes anything?" she said, her voice strong, though her chest felt tight with emotion. "It doesn’t. We can’t undo what’s been done."

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening. "I never expected you to forgive me," he said, voice low. "But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. Even if that means staying out of your way."

Y/N turned away, her emotions swirling. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so fresh, so painful.

But in that moment, something shifted—something she couldn't name or understand. A part of her knew that this... whatever this was between them... would never be simple. But for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be.

"Let’s finish this mission," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. "And then... we'll figure out where we stand."

Azriel nodded, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, even as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her clothes. The mission. The chaos. It all still loomed ahead of them, and neither of them was ready to face it just yet.

But as they walked away from the lake, side by side, something unspoken had changed. They hadn’t fixed everything. Far from it. But they’d come closer to understanding each other, to acknowledging that whatever had happened between them—it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

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

Taglist: @darkbloodsly @moonfawnx @clementine111002 @galaxystern08

[echo-riot]

Sevika/Ellie/Abby Valentine’s Day Headcanons

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff <3

Don’t ask why i created these before valentines day.

Sevika

• Sevika isn’t one for grand gestures or public displays of affection. She prefers a quiet, intimate evening with just the two of you. A dimly lit room, a bottle of expensive liquor, and her favorite jazz record playing softly in the background set the perfect mood.

• Sevika doesn’t do cheesy. Instead, she gifts you something practical but meaningful. Maybe it’s a piece of jewelry she noticed you eyeing weeks ago, or a custom-made weapon if you’re a fighter like her. She’ll hand it to you with a casual “Don’t make a big deal about it” but secretly loves seeing your reaction.

• Valentine’s Day in Zaun isn’t exactly safe, but Sevika makes sure no one bothers you. She’ll keep a hand on your lower back or her arm draped over your shoulder whenever you’re out together. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll regret it.

• If you’re lucky, Sevika might attempt to cook dinner for you. She’ll act confident, but halfway through, the kitchen might start to resemble a war zone. Even if it’s borderline inedible, you appreciate the effort, and she’ll grumble when you laugh at her frustration.

• Sevika’s love language is all about touch. On Valentine’s Day, she’s extra attentive, holding your hand, pulling you into her lap, and planting soft kisses on your temple. When she thinks no one is watching, she might even brush her fingers through your hair or kiss your knuckles.

• She loves unwinding with a good cigar and a card game, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. She’ll invite you to play, but the stakes will be playful—loser has to give the winner a kiss or let them choose the next activity.

• As much as she pretends she’s indifferent about Valentine’s Day, Sevika has a soft, romantic streak. She might surprise you with fresh flowers (smuggled in from Piltover), a handwritten note, or an old photograph of the two of you that she had framed.

• After a few drinks, Sevika lets her guard down. She’ll pull you close and murmur things she’d never say in the daylight—how much you mean to her, how she’d do anything to keep you safe, and how she can’t imagine life without you.

• The night ends with you curled up in her arms, her prosthetic resting on your waist as she traces lazy patterns on your skin. She’s at her most vulnerable here, holding you like you’re her anchor in the chaotic world of Zaun.

Ellie

• Ellie doesn’t make a huge deal out of Valentine’s Day but secretly looks forward to it, wanting to make you smile. She pretends it’s “just another day” but absolutely has a stash of plans up her sleeve.

• She’s not great with words, but she spends way too much time making you a card. It’s covered in silly doodles, random jokes, and a cheesy line like, “You’re the fungus to my Joel.” She gets embarrassed handing it over, muttering, “Don’t laugh, okay?”

• Since resources are limited, Ellie gets creative with her gift. She’ll leave little notes or arrows leading you to a hidden treasure she found or crafted, like a cool comic, a barely used book, or a mixtape she made with scraps of old music.

• All day, Ellie bombards you with goofy, Valentine-themed pickup lines. “Are you a clicker? Because you’ve got me clicking with you,” or “Are you immune too? Because you’re infecting my heart.” She cracks herself up more than you do.

• Instead of a quiet evening, Ellie plans an “adventure” date. It could be exploring an abandoned building to find cool trinkets, sledding on an old piece of scrap metal, or watching the stars together. She loves the thrill of doing something unique with you.

• Ellie insists on making you a meal, which might involve some questionable apocalypse cooking techniques. Burnt rations or an oddly cooked rabbit aside, you love the effort, and she playfully demands a “5-star review.”

• After dinner, she grabs her guitar and plays you a song. It’s something heartfelt but rough around the edges, and she might even mix in some silly lyrics to make you laugh. She’ll get flustered if you tell her how much you loved it.

• Ellie thrives on teasing you, especially on Valentine’s Day. She might jokingly challenge you to a snowball fight or wrestle you over who loves the other more. She grins ear to ear when you play along.

• Despite all the jokes and casual attitude, Ellie pours her heart into the day. She doesn’t always know how to express her feelings, but she makes sure you know how much you mean to her through small, meaningful gestures.

• At the end of the day, Ellie pulls you into a cozy spot, maybe by a campfire or under a worn blanket. She wraps her arms around you, rests her chin on your shoulder, and murmurs, “Happy Valentine’s Day, idiot,” in the softest, most loving voice.

Abby Anderson

• Abby isn’t the type for over-the-top romantic gestures, but she puts genuine thought into making the day special. She plans something meaningful and personal, knowing you’ll appreciate her effort more than flashy displays.

• Abby isn’t one to waste resources, so she makes you something by hand. Whether it’s carving a small trinket out of wood, sewing a patch onto your jacket, or crafting a bracelet from scavenged materials, it’s clear she put time and love into it.

• She’s an early riser and uses the quiet hours to set up a surprise for you. Maybe it’s breakfast (even if it’s just rationed eggs and stale bread) or a small bouquet of wildflowers she found during a patrol.

• Abby loves physical activity, so she might suggest spending the day doing something active together, like sparring, jogging along a scenic route, or even teaching you self-defense. She insists it’s romantic because “nothing says love like staying alive together.”

• Abby takes Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to remind you how deeply she cares. She’s more attentive than usual, always checking on you and subtly positioning herself between you and any potential danger during patrols or outings.

• If you’re not in the middle of a crisis, Abby will try to cook a special meal for you. She’ll be super focused, brows furrowed as she works, and will pretend not to care about your opinion—but she lights up when you compliment her cooking.

• Throughout the day, Abby shows her love through actions. She’ll sharpen your weapons, fix your gear, or give you an impromptu massage after a long day. It’s her way of saying, “I’ve got your back.”

• Abby isn’t the best with words, but she thrives in quiet, intimate moments. Sitting beside you, sharing stories, or just leaning against each other while watching the sunset makes her feel at peace.

• She’ll surprise you with small, cheesy gestures, like nervously handing you a clumsily written love note or trying to draw a heart on the dusty mirror of an old building. It’s rare, but when it happens, it melts your heart.

• Abby’s love language is physical touch. She spends the day holding your hand, pulling you into her lap, or giving you bear hugs that lift you off the ground. Her kisses are soft and lingering, and she’ll mutter, “You’re everything to me,” when no one else is around.

• As the day winds down, Abby makes sure you feel safe and loved. She’ll hold you close, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back, and promise, “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.”

[tavolgisvist]

I was always interested in finding out what have happens on the photo. What gave them the idea of depict Paul's funeral: why the funeral, why Paul? Well…I have an answer, I suppose

More legendary than most, however, were a band briefly signed to Brian, the Big Three. Other musicians on the scene seemed to regard this band with awe. They were the original power trio, real sonic bruisers who’d built themselves the biggest amplifiers - nicknamed Coffins - that anyone had ever seen.

(Liverpool - Wondrous Place by Paul Du Noyer, 2002)

Epstein made his way to the Cavern club to see the group perform at a lunchtime session on November 9th. He wrote later that he had never seen anything like The Beatles on any stage. <…> "I loved their ad libs and I was fascinated by this, to me, new music with its pounding bass beat and its vast, engulfing sound." <…> The "pounding" bass that Epstein described was due in part to a new addition to The Beatles' equipment line-up. In the early 1960s there was really no such thing as a proper bass amplifier. Most bass players would use the most powerful guitar amplifier that they could get their hands on. But these were not designed for bass guitar, and did not provide the deep, throbbing bass tones that bass guitarists wanted. As The Beatles evolved their sound and Best perfected his "atomic beat" the group were searching for a stronger and more solid bass sound.

The band considered by many to be the loudest and most aggressive in Liverpool was The Big Three. They bad started out as Cass & The Cassanovas, a four-piece until leader and frontman Brian Casser left during the beginning of 1961. The remaining members stayed together to form The Big Three: Johnny Gustafson on bass, guitarist Adrian Barber, and Liverpool's loudest drummer, Johnny Hutchinson, on the skins.

Barber says that when they became a trio there was an instant problem: he and Gustafson weren't loud enough to project over Hutchinson's drumming. Even the relatively punchy Selmer Truvoice amp was not enough. Barber, however, had an interest in electronics from his days in the merchant navy. <…> Barber went out and bought a book about loudspeakers produced by G A Briggs, who owned the British Wharfedale speaker company, and inside he found construction details for various sizes of cabinets. "I decided on one, and Denis Kealing said he could get me a 15-inch speaker," recalls Barber. "I built a set-up for the bass guitar and for the vocal, in a cabinet about five feet tall by about 18 inches square. <…> I used that and mounted it in a metal ammunitions case, so we could carry it around without killing it. Johnny Gustafson used it as his bass amp, and it was very successful. "When we carried it we bad to lower it on its side, because it was long and skinny. The first time we took it down to the Cavern, we struggled down the tiny stairs there. As we carried this black-painted thing across the room it looked just like a coffin - and that's how it got its name: the Coffin. Now, the Cavern was the underground basement of a warehouse, with three vaulted brick-built archways. Over the years water had seeped down and brought calcium deposits with it, which had settled in the ceiling bricks. So when Johnny plucked that first bass note it was like a shower of snow corning down. People went, 'Wow look at that … and listen to that.' So we were really impressed, and I got ambitious at that point." <…> Other bands began to notice the relative sophistication of The Big Three's amplification, especially the bass gear. "Liverpool wasn't a competitive scene, before it got commercial," explains Barber. '"All the bands co-operated with one another and backed each other up. It was a cool scene, and I started to build these things for other people. Paul McCartney asked me to make him a Coffin. It had a single 15-inch speaker in a reflex-ported cabinet, with two chrome handles and wheels on the side."

McCartney started to use a Barber Coffin speaker cabinet during the late part of 1961. <…> McCartney himself recalls, "Adrian made me a great bass amp that he called the Coffin. And, man! Suddenly that was a total other world. That was bass as we know it now. It was like reggae bass: it was just too right there. It was great live." Pete Best too remembers the Coffin. "Neil Aspinall and I used to carry it. Every couple of shows there'd be a flight of stairs which you had to carry this thing up, and it was then we'd wonder why he couldn't have got something smaller. We'd have sweat streaming off us. But the beauty of it was, with all the laughing and joking aside, it did produce a great sound. The first time Paul plugged it in and used it, we just said my god, this is incredible. It added to The Beatles sound."

(Beatles Gear: All the Fab Four's Instruments from Stage to Studio Hardcover by Andy Babiuk, 2010)

So, I guess, Paul is lying on his bass amp that they called the Coffin - and it's the reason of the pantomime on the photo.

[gr1m-c0l0rs]

My WHB!MC’s relationship with the Kings

OVERVIEW: To Sunny, his relationship between the devils is strictly fwb, mainly because of his insecurity that the reason the devils only like him is because they see him as Solomon and not as his own person—no matter if the devils say otherwise. She does have a slight crushes on all of them and had thoughts about staying, but she quickly pushed down these feelings. Sunny really doesn’t want to stay in Hell for the rest of his life but he also doesn’t want to pull a Solomon and leave them forever (which sets up for future angst potential >:))

SATAN:

The first devil Sunny met and the first devil that got really close to

Helped Sunny realize that she was a sadomasochist (never really explored outside of vanilla sex with her other sexual partners on Earth)

Constantly has flirty banter with each other

Sunny gets really irritated easily which Satan loves, following behind him to egg him on so Sunny could hit him

Sunny retaliates by picking him up by his waist and teasing him on how small he is (of course this pisses him off a lot

MAMMON:

Literal sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship

Sunny gets incredibly flustered around him, not used to being spoiled

Tries to reciprocate by it’s kinda hard as she don’t have money (which she is embarrassed by, but Mammon finds endearing)

Was weirded out being called “Master”, constantly reiterating to Mammon to just call him Sunny, but eventually gave up and ended up loving being called it (big dominant looking men calling you master>>>)

Slightly jealous of how strong Mammon is, constantly teetering between “do I want him? Or do I wanna be him?”

LEVIATHAN:

Absolutely DESPISED Leviathan we they first met, especially since they tried to kill him when they first met.

Sunny thought he was ethereal at first, but when he tried to kill her, Levi went from a 10/10 to -3/10

They constantly bicker and hate-fuck sometimes

After learning about Levi’s childhood, Sunny did feel a little bit of sympathy about his situation; still has Levi’s name as “fuckface” on his contact list

Gradually becoming soft for Levi (so is Levi as well to Sunny) but wouldn’t dare admit it (not yet at least)

LUCIFER:

Sunny was absolutely terrified after meeting Luci, especially after learning that he still has beef with his whole bloodline due to Solomon

After eloping with him, Sunny became a little more comfortable with him (still a bit of underlying fear tho)

Tries to be polite and quiet around him, talking to Luci like a doctor and not like a best friend (goofs around with Gamigin whenever he goes to Paradise Lost tho)

Sunny likes to listen to his stories about God, Heaven & Hell

Always asks Luci if she could visit to have tea with him, whenever he gets overwhelmed by the other devils

BEELZEBUB:

Practically shares the same braincell

Sunny only saw Beel as a horny goofball until he learned the real reason why he wanders around, and now feels guilty for thinking that he didn’t have depth

Flirty banter pt. 2

After finding out that Sunny used to party on Earth, Beel always make sure to take him out whenever he gets stressed out about angels

Sunny likes to leave little trinkets and food in his coat pocket that is covered in his scent as a way to thank him (something Beel appreciates even though he wants the real deal.

BELPHEGOR:

Was really indifferent about Belphie at first but sees him as a cool dude to hang out with occasionally

His “don’t care” attitude annoys Sunny sometimes but brushes it off

Sleeping buddy (literally)

Watches anime at Belphie’s palace, and discusses about it with him (even if it’s a short amount of time)

When not cuddling, Sunny likes to help Beleth with work (sometimes even carrying Belphie on her back since he’s warm and squishy ‘like a pillow’)

ASMODEUS:

Sunny was (understandably) afraid hearing the stories about Asmo

After meeting him, Sunny ends up becoming slightly annoyed with Asmo’s antics

Sunny constantly threatens to spray Asmo with a hose (especially after finding out he doesn’t shower) which Asmo laughs it off

Likes listening to him gushing about his kids

Sunny feels nothing but sympathy about the loss of his first love Solomon and his second love, his wife, but doesn’t have the heart to break his heart a third time

HEIGHT COMPARISON:

[mon-chef]

Scarves and Scrunchies.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Sydney liked to think she kept her emotions secured tightly behind a steel trap, only letting them free when she had fully processed them. That wasn’t the case. Carmy, observant as he was, especially of Sydney, realized she had a very revealing tell. Her hair.

Sometimes she’d fly into work with her braids swishing quickly around her shoulders and no scarf yet to tamp them down. She’d be kind as she always was, clear-headed and even voiced, but he knew that she’d been zooming frantically around her corner of Chicago all morning. Her usual hairstyle; a ponytail pulled tight with a colorful scrunchie and, an equally colorful and matching, head scarf meant she’d picked out her clothes the night before, she’d gotten “enough” sleep, and she was ready to be a rockstar in their kitchen.

To be honest Carmy liked all of the ways she styled her hair but his favorite was when she piled her braids into a bun at the top of her head with two braids hanging in front of her eyes. He didn’t know what she was silently revealing when she wore this because he was too busy stealing glances at her exposed neck and trying not to get caught staring into her brown eyes. He was rarely successful.

That morning she’d strode into his apartment muttering a quick hello before making her way straight into his kitchen to place the grocery bags down with a heavy sigh. Her hair was in a low, and slightly messy bun. He figured she’d been fidgeting with it anxiously on the train and in one final burst of annoyance she hastily twirled it into a loose ball at the base of her neck so she wouldn’t be tempted to grab at it anymore.

The scrunchie she’d chosen was black, the same color as the long sleeve, she had on under her oversized ‘Earth Wind and Fire’ t-shirt. He noted that she was wearing leggings today instead of her usual baggy pants. He tried his best not to note how her bending down slightly to put the grocery bags on the counter caused her t-shirt to ride up and that he could see the outline of her backside. “Rough morning?”

Sydney crossed her arms indignantly over her chest and fixed him with a hard glare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What? Nothing. You just look—“

“Like shit? Got it. Cool. Thanks.” He took a step away from her, surprised. “How are we already fighting, you just walked in.”

“No, hello. No, how are you—“

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

“Just straight to you look terrible.” Confused he ran a hand through his blonde curls. After which he silently cursed himself for messing up the work he’d done that morning in preparation for her arrival “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to. I read between the lines.” Carmen could feel heat rising up his neck.“Syd I would never say-I- I-I like- I think you’re-” Sydney’s frown faltered, she was trying not laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“You’re so easy Carm, I had to.”

“No, you’re just really convincing. If you ever get sick of working at the Bear, you should definitely go into acting.”

She scoffed. “Oh shut the fuck up.”

“No, really.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Even if that were true, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll never get sick of the Bear…again.”

“Promise?” His sincerity froze them both in place. He wracked his brain trying to find more words to abate his embarrassment. “I just meant— .”

“I already tried that, remember?” The confusion melted off of her face and that familiar teasing glint came back into her eye. “And look where that got me.” Her loose bun deflated and instead of putting it back up she let her braids free and rolled the scrunchie onto her wrist.

Carmy didn’t know what he was more surprised at. The way she’d immediately thwarted the intimate moment he’d accidentally put them in or the way his breath hitched when her braids fell down to frame her face.

“Lucky us .” he sighed. Sydney grabbed a jar from the table and and handed it to him to put in his refrigerator, he did thankfully to get at least a few paces from the charged atmosphere.

“ You never look like shit by the way. ” He clarified leaning his back against the fridge. He liked having a sort of short hand with his CDC, so there was no way that he was going to give it away and tell her the real reason he’d made his comment but he did want to clarify. “You just seem stressed.”

“I am, a little.” She bit her lip, contemplating. He could see the exact moment she decided against sharing her thoughts with him. Instead she pivoted to a safer topic. “I’m more nervous about this dish though.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, if we fuck it up we can just start again.” She nodded in agreement but still had her teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she surveyed the groceries she’d just lugged up the stairs.

“I think this is everything.”

“Looks like it.”

Carmen placed a quick hand on her shoulder before turning to the vegetables. “Don’t be anxious, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah. We got this.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

They did not ‘have this’. After burning, over salting, and undercooking the two had smartly decided to save their subsequent efforts for another day. Carmy had suggested they chill on his couch while they waited for take-out.

“Oh shit, my scarf. You found it!”

“Oh yeah.” Carmy said sort of glumly watching her yank it from the spot he’d thoughtfully placed it.

“I’ve been looking for this, I thought it flew off when I went to the pier.”

“No, it’s been here.”

“It’s my favorite.” Sydney flashed him one of her big toothy grins, his favorite.

“I know.” You wear it the most, and usually on bun days.

She gave him a look “What do you like keep track of all of my scarves?”

Yeah, actually. Carmy couldn’t think of a quip to whip back fast enough, so he stayed silent. Syd was stifling a laugh when he summoned the courage to look at her. Fuck, had he said that out loud? No. Clearly he wasn’t the only person who could read their business partner’s secret tells. Suddenly he felt transparent, and crimson-discomfort creeped slowly up his body. “Mind if I leave it here? Never know when a hair scarf related emergency might come up. I’d feel safer with you looking after it, since you clearly care so much.”

He rolled his eyes at her attempt to razz him. He should be embarrassed, he was, but not enough to insist she take it back. It was weird how much he wanted it, a piece of her in his apartment, but Sydney didn’t seem to mind, so neither did he.

[moriitis]

Please! Create a situation with Toby being jealous! For whatever reason, I love it!

have I proof read this? no. so if you see mistakes, no you don't.

Jealous!Toby Rogers x Reader.

"Thanks Brian," you huffed softly, pushing strands of hair away from your sticky forehead. You were coated in sweat and your lungs burnt as you gasped for steady breaths of oxygen. The dampness of the forest floor beneath you cooled you only a fraction as you felt the increasing urge to peel off your hoodie. Whatever happened was a blur, but a blur that frankly hasn't happened in a long time. It had been awhile since anyone has considered stepping foot into the forest and you'd spent an increasing amount of time following their tracks and observing them within the shadows of the trees and shrubbery around you. Only, to your surprise, the person seemed to have a haunch that you were following and began speeding off into the valley before you; heading further and further into dangerous territory. Trespassers were bad news and by all means, they had to be eliminated, so when this person began sprinting off, the chase was on. Despite their speed, the forest was kind to you as you knew all what lurked deep within the fog and just when you were about to grab a hold of them, you slipped and sprained your ankle. Thankfully enough, Brian was on your trail close behind and thankfully this person did not get away so easy.

It was a rookie mistake and admittedly you were a little embarrassed to let it happen, but the rain from the night before made the ground slick with mud and the many holes that dotted the forest soil was dangerous to even the most simplest of Proxies.

"Don't thank me, it's alright," Brian reassured as he knelt beside you, lifting the cuff of your trouser to assess your ankle better. His lips pursed which didn't really give you much hope for the state of your condition. "Looks pretty swollen," he commented as he reached over to gentle probe your skin with his index finger, resulting in a sharp pain that made you hiss out. He grimaced and shot you an apologetic look from under his eyelashes, turning his attention back to your ankle. "I'm no expert, but doesn't look great." Admittedly, you bit back a sarcastic remark because deep down you were just annoyed with yourself and the situation. With a hesitant nod, you sighed a heavy sigh.

"Doesn't feel too great either," you remarked, forcing a friendly smile to hide the level of pain you were experiencing. Brian could only chuckle dryly as he leant back a little, hands on his knees.

"Think you could walk?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at the question. Your stubbornness ignited the spark inside you to at least try, a part of you not wanting to give in so easily. So, with a little grunt, you pushed yourself up from the tree; only as soon as pressure was applied to your ankle, you slipped a fell back down again. Brian's lips pursed and he gave you a look, pitying you a little. "Guess not." He said, trying to add some humour to the situation in an attempt to make you feel better. Before you could muster up a remark, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby and immediately you felt the urge to jump into action. Only as soon as you made the attempt once again to stand, you collapsed with a pained grunt as Brian stood to his feet. You were both on high alert, a rock held securely in Brian's hand and your knife close to your chest as you glanced out into the darkness; awaiting.

Finally the bushes parted and out came Toby, the familiar beige hoodie, his hatchets in each hand and those orange goggles sat atop his messy, brunette hair. You breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that it wasn't another trespasser but still irritated at the thought of Toby seeing you like this - as if Brian was bad enough. Toby was panting a little, like he were trying to find you and it seemed his shoulders dropped as he relaxed a little upon seeing you. His gaze flickered over toward Brian momentarily as he assessed the situation before him.

Now you and Toby were in no means together nor had you ever considered relationships since becoming a proxy, but you knew deep down if a part of you had to choose, it had to be Toby. His goofiness, the way he looks out for you, his dumb remarks that make your stomach hurt just from laughing, his hair, his muscles- okay, you were getting distracted and quickly you peeled your gaze away.

"Oh, it's you-you- you guys," he began, lowering his hatchets as he stepped a little closer. His gaze faltered over to your exposed ankle and he raised a brow in interest. "What h-hhappened with you?" he asked, trying to cover his worriedness with nothing but plain, odd curiosity. It seemed he completely disregarded Brian as he knelt down beside you, your gaze meeting with his for just a moment until he glanced away.

"I fell, Brian says I sprained my ankle," you muttered, cheeks flushing a little admitting it out loud. Brian crossed his arms securely over his chest, watching Toby.

"I'm just guessing, it could be broken," Brian chimed in, shrugging softly. He wasn't the expert, anything swollen could be broken or sprained. It seemed Toby wasn't too satisfied with that answer and huffed a little.

"Dummy," he teased softly as his fist jabbed you softly on your arm, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

"She can't walk either, so it's good your here," Brian scratched the back of his neck, shrugging softly. He knew he had the strength to carry you, it's just he also knew how damn stubborn you are. Toby glanced up at Brian and back down toward you before standing back up straight, leaving you sat on your damp ass, leaning against an equally damper tree. Pushing his hatchets into the loop on his belt, Toby twitched and cracked his neck before shrugging.

"Alright," he replied nonchalantly. "L-LL-Let's goo," he chimed, Brian and him nodding in unison as they both knelt down to hook an arm under your own. You took support on their muscular frame as they lifted you to your feet, you being mindful not to apply any pressure to your bad ankle. With one arm draped over Brian's shoulders and your other the same on Toby's, you could feel a sense of warmness surround you and your cheeks as you tried to contain yourself. You were between two muscular men and this was the closet they had ever been, you could smell Toby's familiar 'woody' scent, a faint metallic smell that clung to his clothing and with Brian he smelt like strong aftershave. They both handled you like you were fragile, fine china and you could feel their stares on you as you slowly hobbled along in between them. Your heart was beating a million beats per second and you only hoped, prayed that they couldn't hear it. Toby's rough hand was secure on your waist whereas Brian's was more on your upper torso, just almost grazing your breast. Now you knew Brian never had any weird or sexual intentions, it was just awkward placement.. as for Toby, he only had alarm bells going off as he glanced over his shoulder to notice Brian's suggestive hand placement.

Each step you grunted and groaned softly as your foot make gentle contact with the ground beneath you and apparently, it got unbearable as Toby quickly pulled his frame away from you; staggering you slightly and causing you to lean more on Brian's weight. Something that really didn't sit right with Toby.

"This isn't w-wor-w-" he huffed. "Working," he announced, almost agitated as both you and Brian shot him a confused look. You went to open your mouth to say something but Brian already spoke up before you.

"What's wrong?" he asked but Toby didn't answer as he pushed Brian's arm off around you, causing you to almost step back and fall back on your ass. Only before you could, Toby's arm hooked under your knees, his other slipping around your torso and it was there he lifted you bridal style. You squealed a little as he lifted you into the air, causing you to hook your arms around his neck in fear of falling down.

"I can handle this," Toby spoke abruptly as he glanced at Brian, leaving him a little bewildered at what was happening before his eyes. It wasn't all the time Toby acted this way and honestly, it felt a little hostile. Thankfully, Brian wasn't one to lose his temper quick and in fact, caught on to the situation almost instantly. There was a little, smug grin across his face as he crossed his arms.

"Oh, right, yeah, seems you can," Brian remarked, shrugging softly. "Want me to tag along?" he asked but it seemed he already knew the answer.

"No, she's alright," Toby seemingly replied before you could speak for yourself, his grip on you tightening a little. Brian then sent you a smile, wanting to ensure that you were okay with this and frankly, you just nodded slowly.

"Thanks, Brian," you muttered softly, feeling too flustered to form a proper sentence at all. "I'll reach out." Brian only smiled and gave a court nod before disappearing off into the woods, focusing back on his task.

Toby seemed a little distant, cold and frankly it put you on edge a little. So, slowly you glanced up at him and raised a questioning brow. His muscular, tall body swayed a little as he carried you through the forest, where you were going? You had no clue but you had some weird kind of trust in Toby and is intentions, despite his coldness toward Brian.

"What's wrong with you?" you remarked, surprising the brunette a little as he raised his brows. Despite his sudden cold demeanour, there was now a smile tugging at the intact corner of his lips and you only became more confused.

"Why were you t-t-talking to B-Brian?" he asked softly and you were shocked, unsure on what to even say. So your mouth hung agape as you tried to grasp the right words to say, your mind nothing but an empty blankness as you tried to conjure up a remark.

"What? Wh-Wh-" Fuck, you were so shocked you were stuttering yourself! And Toby couldn't help but give you a look that said, 'are you mocking me?' You were flustered and now you were panicking. "What do you mean?" you quickly remarked. "He was just helping." You felt insane explaining this to him, it wasn't like you owned him anything nor did he control who you did or didn't speak to.

Shrugging softly, Toby just pursed his lips before responding: "But you have me."

sorry if this sucks i kept getting distracted heheh

[lulublack90]

Prompt 19 - Trouble

@jegulus-microfic January 19, Word count 527

Previous part First part

“You’re the worst brother!”

“No, you’re the worst brother!”

“I hate you!”

“You already said that!”

“Well, it’s still true!”

“Oh my god, will you just shut up!” Regulus’s fingers twitched, and his wand slipped from its holder into his hand. He hadn’t even raised it when Sirius cocked his head. 

“Where did you learn that?” He asked. 

“Learnt what?” He said through gritted teeth. He was going to enjoy practising a few of the curses Sirius didn’t know he knew the next time his brother said something stupid, or annoying, or anything really. 

“Oh my god. Did James teach you that?” He cocked his head again, his brow furrowed as he tried to work something out. Regulus could feel the last of his patience slipping away. 

“James says it, and I suppose it’s worked its way into my vocabulary. What of it?” He raised his wand this time, warning Sirius to tread carefully. 

Sirius flopped down on Remus’s bed, looking stunned. “What?” Regulus asked. Sirius had never voluntarily stopped arguing with him. Sirius looked up, matching cool grey eyes locking.

“You really like him, don’t you? It’s not about pissing me off. You’re falling for James,” Regulus felt his cheeks heating as he blushed because, yes, that was exactly why he’d started using that expression. Sirius began laughing. “Oh, Reggie, you are in so much trouble!” Sirius rolled around the bed, continuing to laugh. Regulus shot a stinging jinx right at his rolling arse. “Ouch!” Sirius yelped and jumped to his feet. 

“If you even think for one second about telling anyone about James and I…” Regulus threatened, but Sirius stopped him mid-threat. 

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. It’s not just you that’ll be in danger if this gets out. Mother will kill James if she ever finds out,” Regulus had never heard his brother sound so serious. It was unnerving. 

“Thank you,” He managed to push out. 

“Oh, I bet that hurt,” Sirius snickered. Regulus just glowered at him. 

“And in return, I won’t spread news of your relationship with Lupin,” Sirius rolled his eyes at him. 

“It’s Remus, and tell who you want, we don’t care. And who knows, maybe if it gets back to Mother she’ll be so disgusted she’ll pop her clogs, and we’ll all be free,” It was Regulus’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Fine, truce?”

“Truce,” Sirius agreed, the smile he’d always reserved for Regulus spreading across his face. Regulus’s breath caught as he took it in. He thought he’d never see his brother look at him like that again. 

“Can I come out now?” A nervous voice squeaked from the bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, Peter!” Sirius bounded over to the door and yanked it open. “Sorry mate,” He apologised. 

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry. I just…” And Peter legged it out of the dorm room, leaving the brothers alone again. 

Sirius sucked his cheeks in as he tried not to laugh, but it was too much, and he let out a loud bark of laughter, which set Regulus off. And then for the first time in a long, long time. Regulus and Sirius Black were laughing happily together. 

Next part

[jalicecookie]

Little Climbing Champ!

A little Gift for @n1daehodefender and her work that inspired me to write this little Post. I totally love the Idea of the Squid Game Boys with their Babys and like to give you this Gift <3 - Check out her Storys, her writing is so good!

Summary: You wake up extra early on a Sunday morning and try to climb out of your bed with one goal - to steal your Appa's watch because it has caught your interest.

TW: Nothing except Cuteness and fatherly Love from Kang dae-ho, Nam-gyu & Thanos - as well as hints of nightmares based on the experiences in the Squid Games.

Characters: Kang dae-ho, Nam-gyu, Thanos

���★★Thanos★★★

You wake up a little tired and realize with a sleepy look that it wasn't even light yet…the small gap in the curtains on the window didn't let any sunlight through…but…if it was still bedtime and your mommy and your appa were still asleep…maybe you could try something really exciting and awesome?

With a quiet yawn, you kick the blanket off you and crawl closer to the bars of your bed.

You've already tried several times to climb over the edge of the crib because… it was so exciting and great (plus you wanted a little extra cuddle time with your Appa, you've been in your Appa only phase for a few days… which Thanos finds quite amusing, after all he is THE LEGEND - of course it was really cool that as your Appa he was much higher up in your eyes than your mommy) and you really want to take a closer look at that great watch, that your father is wearing… it's so sparkling and great and you want to have it.

Sometimes Thanos says the watch is off limits for you… whatever that means? You don't know but… if your parents are still asleep, they certainly won't notice that you're trying to sneak into the parents' bedroom.

Exactly! You would steal Appa's beautiful watch and just keep it… then it would no longer be Appa's watch but yours....your Watch.

Determined, you stand up and try to climb over the edge of the bed. It takes several attempts , before you can lift your right leg and then your left leg over it.

(When you tried a few days ago, either your mother or father caught you half-heartedly and either lifted you out of bed themselves and sat you on the large, soft play rug in the room, or you were placed on your parent's hip and your climbing ideas were doomed to failure.) Climbing over it was easy… landing on the rug… less so.

You land on your diapered, padded bottom and luckily the start wasn't too painful for you.

And luckily for you, the door to your room was only ajar.

It wasn't uncommon for you to wake up in the night and call for your parents - in the last few days, more often for Thanos, of course - but this time you use the ajar door , to walk clumsily down the dark hallway towards your parents' bedroom.

This door was also ajar and you pushed it open a little further.

It was dark and both Mommy and Appa seemed to still be asleep….okay….where did Appa have his watch….does he sleep with it on his arm, like you sometimes need your favorite stuffed animal to fall asleep?

"Kid what are you....how......wait is that my Watch?"

You giggle once and press the watch closer to your cheek, not really planning on giving it back to your Appa…but of course you wanted to tell him what great things you had accomplished…no matter how late or early it was.

"Appa! Me....climbed out ... baby bed! ALONE!"

It took a moment for Thanos to realize the words and a tired, broad grin on his lips before he playfully reached for you and pulled you into a loving hug.

"WOW, that's so cool! My little climbing champ! And at 4:44 in the morning! Appa is proud of you! And as a reward, you can continue sleeping in Appa and Mommy's bed… if you give me my watch back, hm?" - Thanos praised this night climbing action… and that was a much better reward than keeping the watch.

So you nod enthusiastically and voluntarily give him the watch back.

A few minutes later, you are lying between your Mommy and your Appa and quickly fall asleep again.

Thanos covers you and his partner with the blanket a little more carefully , before he also returns to dreamland with a happy smile.

★★★Kang dae-ho★★★

"Appa? Wakey-Wakey?"

You carefully support yourself on the edge of the mattress and try to check whether your father is still awake.

It was difficult to climb out of your bed… you somehow hurt yourself and actually wanted to call out loudly for your parents, but actually you also wanted to play with the watch, that your father accidentally left on the changing table in your room and… somehow everything ended in chaos… which is why you are now standing in your parents' bedroom and trying to wake up the sleeping Dae-ho.

Because somehow… when you tried to push the small chair that sometimes stands at the even smaller table in your room… closer to the changing table in order to get the watch… the chair somehow crashed into the small lamp and it broke… you still don't have the watch and Appa has to help you now! Very, very urgently.

You hear a rustling on your mommy's side of the bed and she struggles out of bed to pick you up a few moments later.

"Appa was really tired, baby… can we be a bit quieter?", your mommy whispers in your ear… but you see it as a game and clap your hands enthusiastically, only to shout a loud OKAY into the room and thus wake up your Appa, who… sits upright in bed, startled, and looks from you to his partner.

"What happened? Oh my God, is our baby sick? Was she crying and I overslept? Are you sick, darling? Is it already morning? What time is it? 4:44? oooh…", - came the confused reply from the former player of the brutal Squid Games.

Of course, his first concern was for your safety and that of his partner…and somehow he seems like a sleepy Labrador puppy to a person in the middle of the night.

"Climbed out baby bed…fell…little ouchie but kay kay….Appa Watch on changing table….lamp broken…..Appa fix it? Me wanna play with Appa Watch please!"

There was a moment of silence before your parents' amused laughter echoed through the bedroom, and your Appa dragged himself tiredly out of bed to check whether you had hurt yourself during your climbing.

Your parents cleaned up the night's chaos and Appa read you a little bedtime story, albeit in a tired voice… but with a fatherly, loving glow in his eyes, which made you forget about your beautiful watch and you quickly fell asleep again.

Without any more climbing… of course you didn't notice the slightly proud smile on your father's lips as he put the book aside… and was proud of this… could you call it a new milestone in his baby's life?

★★★ Nam-gyu★★★

"Woah woah…what do you think you're doing?"

It was the middle of the night and the voice of your Appa made you pause for a moment…actually you wanted to climb over the edge of your crib in a death-defying manner because you wanted to secretly steal that amazing clock from your parents' bedroom…but your climbing attempts were discovered because…Appa suddenly stood in the brightly lit room and there was a mixture of surprise in his voice.

"Appa! Help!" - you say tearfully, hanging half with one leg over the top edge of the bed and the other half on the other side, threatening to slide off.

"If you're tired of life, baby, I'd rather see this situation.... if you ever meet that crazy salesman on the subway…run Kid.....run", you hear your father mutter and he picks you up in a routine and fatherly gesture.

You look at him with big, pleading eyes and pat the right cheek of the… somewhat tired-looking Nam-Gyu lovingly.

"Wanna Appas Watch....pretty...", you said and cuddeld closer to your Father.

"Ah i get it, so that´s why you start this climbing adventure....sorry I promised to be the best Appa ever for you....no Watch"

"Pwetty please Appa!", you said and whinned once.

"How about this, instead of more climbing stuff this fu....very early night like we have 04:44 a.m.....i sneak you into our Room and you can fall asleep with Mommy and Appa for now?", - your Father said in a soft voice while giving you an calming kiss on the hair.

"Teddy too?", you asked and pointed towards your Crib where a Teddybear was sitting.

"Sure, what kind of an good Appa would i be, if the Teddy is left behind?", said Nam-Gyu and grabbed the stuffed Animal to give it to you.

Only a few Moment later, you were placed in the king sized double Bed next to your sleeping Mommy, while your Father wished you a good night and hummed a soft lullaby, which quickly made you fall asleep.

THE END

[jd-loves-fiction]

For the Contes de Fées, i would like to ask for Azul, then you first meet him. Sfw or nsfw its up to you in the happy ending. (I dont feel like crying today lmao)

Gn reader if possible, you know who this is~

-🐙🐕

💐This one turned out quite shot but I'm losing steam fast :( hope you enjoy it hun!! ❤️

❧ A simple bargain

❧ When the sky had turned dreadfully dark, you should've turned tail and ran. But what hope did you have of outrunning a storm so close.

So you prepared for the worst and prayed. Before you knew it, you'd been thrown overboard so roughly, you were out before even hitting the water.

To survive would have been a miracle – one you did not believe in. And yet, you feel the tug of consciousness against the back of your head hours later, back upon cool rock and the scent of something cooking invading your nose.

You come to slowly and with much effort, regaining use of each of your limbs with slight twitches until they finally listen to your commands. Sitting up seems an impossible feat as you’re left gasping just from trying.

“Welcome back, captain.” The sudden greeting makes you double your efforts of standing up to know who saved you, though the silky voice is entirely unfamiliar.

When you succeed, you turn toward where the voice had come from to see a smartly dressed man tending to a pot.

You blink your eyes purposefully, making sure your eyes do not deceive you. The man is pale as birch, with hair like strands of silver and a smile that spells trouble without a doubt. It’s still not clear to you if you are truly awake.

“How– Who–?” Your voice fails you, raspy and as broken as you feel – aching down to your very bones, skin both cold and clammy and a strange taste in your mouth.

“Don't strain yourself, captain. Keeping you alive through the night was not at all easy and I’d hate for my efforts to be wasted before you can pay me back.” The man speaks with the practiced ease of a slimy businessman, though he must be nothing of the sort given the way his pale skin catches the light in such an mesmerizing way… plus the fact that the cave you find yourselves in has no entrance besides a pool of dark seawater.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Azul, though I respond to ‘savior’ just as well.” He finally seems to give you his full attention, only to give you a cheeky response.

“How do I know you’re not lying about saving me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?” He gestures around himself in a wide, dramatic arc and from that movement alone you can tell he’s going to be a pain in the neck.

“How do you know who I am? Why did you save me?” Questions rush out of you like a waterfall as your senses finally return to you in full. You’re head is spinning and aching, trying to make sense of what you know happened, where you are, who he could possibly be–

“So many questions… you’re lucky I’m a patient man.” Azul heaves a long-suffering sigh, standing from his stone seat to move closer to you, making you tense up, “I know who you are because I’ve been watching you and I saved you because I believed you’d be of use to me were we to make a deal. Which we will, once you get your bearings.” He stands a mere two steps from where you sit, back straight as a rod and spewing such overconfident nonsense you fear he might’ve seen the future to be so sure. If not for the way his fingers twitch at his sides, anxious.

“You sound so sure, and yet you don't look it.” He seems stunned at the accusation, subtly flinching in surprise. Seems you're more shrewd than he expected. 

“There's always a degree of assumption or probability to deals such as these. I tend to avoid falling into blind confidence.” He pulls himself together so quickly that your weakened mind accepts it without question.

“What's this about a deal?” You bring a hand up to your aching forehead – dealing with businessmen is an endeavor guaranteed to give you a headache every time.

“I saved your life, so now there's the matter of how you'll pay me back.” Azul states simply, almost patiently – if you were to take his words at face value.

“Right. Can't I just pay you back?”

“I have plenty of money. There's something much more valuable that I want from you.” That can't be good.

You wait for him to name his price himself, but he simply looks at you expectantly – how dramatic, “What would that be?”

“Your heart.”

“...What?”

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 14

Warning: Cringe texting

Summary: ^

Notes: I love you guys but I’m lazy for formatting don’t hate me (it’s better on ao3)

Word count: 1,204

ao3 link

Several things were becoming abundantly clear to you.

One, you wanted to fuck Ghost.

Two, Ghost knew this.

Three, he thought he had it in the bag. And that, you took issue with. You were going to fuck him, but you wanted him to work for it; you wanted him to be down on his knees begging.

How exactly you were going to achieve this, you hadn’t quite figured out yet. All you knew for sure was that your ego needed a little more flattering and that Ghost’s needed to be taken down a peg.

You had some vague plans, and one of them had come into motion the second you got a text on your phone from the man himself, when you’d woken up for the second time on Sunday, having already had one rude awakening.

‘Unknown Number: New number. Know you missed texting me. ;-)’

Thank God he hadn’t seen the desperation in your texts on his last phone. This was a chance for a clean slate.

‘You: How’s the photo capabilities on your new phone?’

‘Ghost: Dirty bird. I’ll upgrade.’

‘You: For pictures of Soap and Roach you pervert.’

‘Ghost: Sure love.’

God the man was smug. Although, the mere idea of pictures from you had him buying a whole new phone? He wasn’t shy about his desire for you. Not to mention, it hadn’t even been half a day since he’d left your home, and he’d already sent you a text from his new phone? He was definitely down bad. And you were going to take advantage of that. But, for now, you were going to play it cool.

‘You: Anywaysss! How did the medical go?’

‘Ghost: Fit as a butchers dog.’

‘You: ? Are butcher's dogs especially healthy?’

‘Ghost: Ours was. :-)’

That was new.

‘You: You were a butcher?’

‘Ghost: Was a butcher's apprentice before I joined the military.’

You wondered if that was around the time he’d taken the picture for his drivers licence. Simon Riley the butcher. Well, he could keep the moniker; you imagine he did just as much butchering.

‘Ghost: I can show you how to properly handle meat. ;-)’

Of course. However, there was something cute about the fact that he’d sent you another text after you hadn’t replied for a mere minute. Did he even know what double texting was? You doubted that; he didn’t even seem to know how to use emojis. It was fun to go back to a pre-emoji time, like a throwback to your early teen years.

‘You: Yeah, I bet you’re a master at handling meat. Twat.’

‘Ghost: Happy to show you. ;-)’

‘You: In your dreams.’

‘Ghost: Yes. :-)’

You needed to stop. Either he was masterful at drawing you into playful banter, or you were easy. Regardless, you actually had things to do today, so you couldn’t spend all day flirting with Ghost over text.

‘You: I’ve got to get ready to go out. Talk to you later.’

‘Ghost: Think of me. ;-)’

Incorrigible.

Now, it was time for the second part of your first plan. Today, you were meeting the girls in town for a little window shopping and coffee, which gave you a convenient excuse to get dressed up, and you thought you knew who would appreciate a picture of your outfit. You spent far longer than usual picking out your clothes, trying to find the perfect mix of slutty enough to tease him but not slutty enough that your friends would notice. It was a hard bargain.

You figured it out pretty quickly. You could wear a mini skirt if you just stuck a jumper and a big jacket over it. You put your hair up in a bun that took a deceptively long amount of time to look like you’d just thrown it up, with you having to repeat the whole process three times until you finally got something you liked.

By the time you’d got around to doing your makeup, you were already over it, still irritated by your hair's inability to behave, but you stuck with it, giving yourself winged eyeliner, and several coats of mascara. There was no way you were going to faff trying to do your lips, so you just stuck with basic lip balm to complete your look.

With everything finished, you went to the long mirror in your room, having to give it a thorough clean before you could actually take any pictures. Ghost was worth it, that was unquestionable, but it didn’t make it any less of a faff. You were already out of breath, and you hadn’t even really done anything. How were you supposed to get across a slutty vibe with plausible deniability? Upskirt shot was out of the question. For now. Instead, you went with a classic pose, standing in front of the mirror, hand on your waist, resisting the urge to hold it up in a peace sign, your lips slightly pouted. Of course, you took a good dozen photos so you had a good range to choose from, hemming and hawing over which one was best before you finally decided.

From start to the finish, the whole process had taken about three hours, and the entire end result was a simple text that belied none of your efforts.

‘You: what do you think of my outfit? :) (image)’

There was no instant reply from him this time. You frowned at your phone, but it didn’t summon a text from him, so you just stuck it in your handbag and pretended you didn’t care, as though that would make the time until his next message shorter. Never worked before, but never stopped you from trying regardless.

In the time it took for you to put your coat and shoes on, and give Soap and Roach enough fuss that you didn’t feel guilty leaving them behind, you actually did get a response. You liked that about Ghost. He didn’t fuck about with long waiting times. Well, except for the weeks prior, but that didn’t count; his phone was blown up.

‘Ghost: Let me take you out instead. Anywhere you want.’

The offer was tempting. But you weren’t about to ditch your girls for Ghost. Even if it did take every fibre of your strength not to.

‘You: N o. I’m not ditching my mates for you.’

‘Ghost: Tease.’

‘You: Am not! Was just showing my outfit!’

‘Ghost: You know what you do to me.’

Shit, you were going to be late if you kept letting him distract you. There was just something about texting him that made you feel like a smitten teenager again.

‘You: Going out now! Byeeee’

‘Ghost: See you tonight :-)’

‘You: ???’

‘Ghost: I’m giving you a lift home. Just let me know when you need me.’

Oh, you liked that. You hadn’t even kissed him yet, and he was already your personal chauffeur?

‘You: Fine, will let you know.’

‘Ghost: That’s my girl ;-)’

With that, you locked your phone and stuffed it in the deepest recesses of your bag, knowing that you’d succumb to the temptation of texting him all day otherwise, and set out to catch the bus into town, already running late.

[ranx0]

Steve's liked cars since before he knew. He's just always liked them. He stared at the fancy ones people from across town drove, and he liked to admire the one his dad kept the the garage.

Ten years ago Steve Randle met Sodapop Curtis. Sodapop was six going on seven, and Steve was seven. The former was a loud outspoken kid with an average home life. Two loving parents and two brothers to keep him company. The latter wasn't so lucky, his parents were going through an ugly divorce and they didn't bother to make sure he was okay during any of it.

Steve, like any other little boy, craved attention. He knew Sodapop got attention, he knew it almost as soon as he became friends with the boy. He could tell from his jokes, his smile, the way he talked like everyone was listening, and his confidence that he was a boy everyone always noticed. Maybe that's why Steve stuck by him, copying his confident nature in a way that came off as cocky. Copying his loud volume in a way that made him annoying to most.

Soda figured that Steve liked cars one day a few months after they had just met. Steve always had a small toy car from home stuffed in his backpack hidden away from his parents in case they decided he was in trouble for the day. He had it out during recess, which immediately caught Soda's eyes. It was old and beaten up, but he could tell it used to be a model of those fancy bright red cars that looked like they had a mustache in the front.

Soda plopped down next to the boy, watching him zoom the car back and forth on the grass, opening and shutting the door then walking his hands with his fingers away from the car. Soda was amazed, the car looked fancy. Much more than any toys that Soda had, his were all one solid piece of plastic but Steve's- Steve's had functioning doors, fancy seats, and if you had something small enough you could probably stick it in one of the seats.

But its paint was chipped, there were a few dents in it and one of the car doors wouldn't close correctly. He learned that after observing Steve try and shut it a few times after playing with it for a while. The car was well-loved and had clearly been through a lot.

"That's a cool car." Soda stated, then Steve looked at him.

"It's my only one." The little boy mumbled, tightening his grip on it. Soda didn't understand why, he wasn't going to take it away from him or anything.

"What is it?" The blonde asked with a genuine curiosity that Steve couldn't help but fumble at. He picked the car up from off the ground and sat crisscrossed on the grass. Soda waited patiently for his response.

"It's, uhm, a Ford Convertible," Steve played with the car in his hands, then looked up at Soda. "You could see some around town if you look hard enough."

"I think I have," Soda replied quickly, "They look real fancy."

Soda looked at Steve in awkward silence for a few more moments, and then Steve awkwardly held the car out for Soda to take. "Here," He mumbled, looking away from Soda as he gave him the toy. "You can play with it if you want."

Soda beamed, grabbing the car quickly and zooming it around the floor. Steve's hand almost followed after the car when Soda took it harshly, but he held it back when he saw the excited look on his face.

"Just be careful with it," Steve grumbled as he watched.

That day Soda forgot to give it back, it had just slipped his mind. Recess ended abruptly and everyone rushed inside to continue the school day.

When Steve got home that day he placed his bag down in his room, and later when his parents started fighting he retreated back to busy himself with his prized possession. He was scrounging through his bag trying to find it, and when he couldn't he almost started to cry.

He must have been making too much noise because then it alerted his dad. He doesn't know what necessarily ticked him off, the mess he made while throwing around everything in his bag or the crying from Steve. But his father gave him something reasonable to cry about after he found him.

The next day in school Steve's hands were balled up into fists, trying to distract himself from crying over something stupid again as he tried to confront his new friend. He'd told Soda how he must've accidentally taken the car home with him, and the other boy was extremely apologetic.

Despite how apologetic he was though, he didn't get that car back for a while. Soda kept forgetting. Steve would ask at least once a week, and Soda would always look so genuinely crushed every time he was reminded.

When he finally got the car back it was around December. He'd given the car to him in October.

Soda invited Steve to his house for the first time and was excited to introduce Steve as his best friend. Soda had claimed that if he'd just waited for his parents instead of getting on the bus like he usually did his parents would be happy to have him over.

They waited for Soda's parents outside the school, and when they pulled up they almost expected the little boy standing next to Sodapop. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, and they seemed like sweet people. They had the same genuine smile as Soda did, and they always spoke gently. The complete opposite of his own.

“So, Steve, you and Soda just met this year, right?” His mother asked, and Steve nodded in response. He regrettably wasn’t paying much attention to the questions, just nodding along to whatever his parents had said.

He was focusing on the car that they had, what condition it was in, and how much it would be worth. He was way off, but that was only because he was seven and didn’t understand the concept of capitalism much. It was some type of Ford, but he personally thought his model was better.

When they pulled up in front of the house he noticed some stark contrasts from his own, although the house looked poor enough it had a well-taken-care lawn, its front door was open and its screen door was closed, and it had a nice paint job.

When he entered the house it had this warm aura to it, comforting and happy.

"Soda, why don't you go get Steve that surprise you had for him?" His mother urged, and then Soda bounced up and down excitedly. The younger boy ran off into a room, slamming the door. Steve flinched slightly at the loud noise, then turned to look at Mrs. Curtis quizzically.

He didn't get a response before Soda came barreling in holding something in each of his hands. He held them out to Steve, smiling at him excitedly. There he was holding Steve's old busted-up red Model Ford Convertible and a second one that Steve recognized as a dark blue Model 1947 Cadillac.

Steve could almost cry.

"They're both for you! I told Mama about how I kept forgettin' your car and felt real bad," He said shyly as Steve took the cars from his hands, "So she helped me get another as an apology!"

Steve looked up at Mrs. Curtis, he wasn't stupid, and he knew Soda couldn't buy one himself. Obviously, Mrs. Curtis had done this. He tried to hold back tears and mouthed a quick thank you.

So yeah, you could say Steve Randle liked cars. He liked them a lot, actually.

[mxltifxnd0m]

motel chats  ── . ✶ ruby

summary: you find ruby in your motel room and she wants have a "chat"

pairings: bi! ruby 2.0 x bi! reader, ruby x gn afab! reader, mentions of samruby and slight unrequited sam x reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, set in szn 4 sometime after ep 4.10, no use of 'y/n', reader is described to be taller than ruby, cursing, smut, hate sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering (ruby receiving), implied switch! ruby and reader, name-calling (whore, slut), face sitting, some degradation, a prequel to my 'you did what?' fic but can be read as a standalone, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 3.5K a/n: first ruby fic/smut!! never thought id be writing a ruby fic but alas im too gay for her not to write one for her bc well look at her LOL also my first time writing wlw (f/f) smut so give me a little bit of grace <3 also there are like no ruby fics out there so i barely had any frame of references outside of mari's fics T-T alas i hope you ruby lovers/freaks enjoy this one ruby masterlist

AT THIS POINT, you don't know if it's too late to change what you're doing with your life. You swiftly swung the iron crowbar at the spirit that was charging at you in its grave that you had just dug up. You were so close to getting rid of this ghost, but of course, it couldn’t be easy for you. 

You had found a simple salt and burn just a couple hours away from Bobby’s. You had asked if the boys wanted to come with you, but they had denied since the brothers were trying to figure out how to stop Lilith from breaking more seals. Which, you had to admit, was out of your league when it came to the world of the supernatural. You tried helping them out as best as you could, but sometimes you felt like you were in their way when it came to helping them put a stop to the end of the world. 

You never thought that your life would be this level of crazy, but since reconnecting with the Winchesters, it’s pretty much turned your life upside down (even more so than you thought possible).

The ghost quickly disappeared when the iron made contact with its translucent form. You tried to use your lighter, but it wouldn’t light for a moment, and you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand as you heard a whoosh come from behind you. You swung your crowbar again, and the ghost evaporated. 

“Just fucking light already.” You grunted out, frustrated as your thumb was flicking against the flint of the lighter. Once, then twice, you tried lighting it before the flame flickered to life. You quickly threw the lighter into the open coffin, igniting the salted and gasoline-soaked corpse. You clambered out of the open grave and saw the remnants of the ghost ‘dying’ for good as the body was set aflame. 

You let out a sigh, your body sagging in relief and tiredness as you lay back onto the cool grass of the cemetery you were in. 

“Next time, I’m forcing one of them to come with me.” You muttered into the silent night. Despite having solo hunted for the majority of the time, you have to say that having another pair of hands (or two, for this matter) was oh so very helpful when it came to having to dig up a dead body and getting rid of the spirit. You let out another sigh before sitting up, a small groan leaving your lips. 

Fuck me. You thought as you got up from the ground and grabbed your shovel, preparing to shovel the dirt back into the hole you just dug up. 

You stalked towards your motel room, the parking lot empty, save for your car and a couple of other ones scattered throughout the lot, but paid no mind to them as exhaustion riddled your brain. You had one goal in mind, and that was to get to your room, shower, and then collapse in bed, hoping you could sleep for at least six hours. 

You threw the duffle that was haphazardly slung on your shoulder on the foot of one of the two queen beds you had in the room. You sifted through it to grab some comfortable clothes and your toiletry bag before you made your way to the bathroom. You stayed underneath the stream of water until it ran cold, scrubbing off all of the dirt and grime that was on your body from the hunt. You quickly went through your nighttime routine, eager to fall into bed and let sleep take you away from the land of the living temporarily. 

But when you exited the bathroom, irritation started to brew in your chest when you saw a familiar brunette laying on the vacant bed. 

Ruby’s head turned when she heard the bathroom door open, and you came out of it. She smirked when she saw how your mood shifted from tired to annoyed when you laid eyes on her. 

“Wow, don’t you look great.” Ruby snarked as she sat up on the bed, and her eyes looked you up and down. 

You couldn’t recognize the look in her eye as her gaze roamed your figure, only in a tank top and some boy shorts style underwear. You wore this getup when you had the rare opportunity to be on a solo hunt or have a room to yourself. 

But you decidedly ignored how she was looking at you and scowled. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” You were tired and didn’t want to deal with her bullshit at the moment. 

“We,” Ignoring your words, she stood up from the bed and gestured between the two of you, “Need to have a little chat.” Ruby’s hips swayed slightly as she began to walk towards you. 

You scoffed. “No, we don’t.” You crossed your arms as you leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, and your eyes never left Ruby’s brown ones as she strode towards you. 

Ruby had a sly smirk on her face. “You really don’t like me do you?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry did I not make that abundantly clear the last time we had a ‘chat’?” You cocked your head to the side. “Because if it wasn’t I can refresh your memory.” Sarcasm and irritation bled through your words as the demon in front of you kept you from sleeping. 

This wasn’t the first time Ruby had cornered you alone. The two of you had a bit of “girl talk” (Ruby’s words, not yours) the night after you and Dean found out what Sam was doing late at night after you had noticed that he would sneak out at night shortly after getting Dean back from Hell. That conversation was filled with thinly-veiled insults, alongside Ruby being able to rile you up until she decided she was done having fun and disappeared when you turned your back on her. 

Ruby had rolled her eyes at your words but was standing in front of you now, only a few feet away. You had a couple of inches on the demon, having to tilt your head down to meet her eyes as Ruby stared up at you, amusement gleaming in her eyes at your foul mood. But the look you couldn’t recognize was back in her gaze. 

A scowl etched your face, trying to mask how Ruby’s proximity had lit something within you, but you stamped it down, letting annoyance coat your features. 

“Look, this won’t take long if you stop being a smartass for a second and you listen to me,” Ruby said as she crossed her arms—the action pushing up her breasts, making her cleavage slightly more prominent in the low-cut shirt she was wearing. 

Your eyes flicked down to Ruby’s chest for a second before meeting her eyes—yours narrowing as you stared her down. 

“What do you want?” You asked through gritted teeth, deciding that if you wanted her gone faster, you would need to be cooperative (even though deep down you didn’t want to).  

The corner of her lips twitched. “I need your help.” 

“Nope.” 

“You haven’t even-” 

You shook your head. “Not in a million years am I going to help you with anything. Go ask Sam. I’m sure he’d be willing to help you since you got him wrapped around your finger.” You spat out his name bitterly, knowing that Sam was under her spell and would be at her beck and call if it wasn’t for you or Dean trying to convince him that Ruby was bad news. 

Ruby dared to smirk at you, obviously loving the way she could rile you up. “If I knew any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” 

A sharp laugh left your lips. “Jealous? And what am I supposed to be jealous about exactly?” 

“I’m not blind,” Ruby cooed your name out, your jaw clenched at the sound of it falling from her lips. “I see the way you look at him when you think no one’s looking.” 

“Right,” you drawled out, “Pray tell Ruby, the all knowing demon, how do I look at my friend Sam?” You snarked at the demon standing in front of you. 

You were going to be honest with yourself; you had no idea how you looked at Sam anymore. The two of you were close growing up. When you reconnected with him and Dean, but after being AWOL for four months and finding him shacking up with Ruby, any inkling of feelings that you had for Sam that may have been more than platonic had been extinguished. But you’d be damned if you were going to admit that to the demon he was sleeping with. 

Ruby chuckled before taking a step closer to you. “Oh please, you’re not very discreet with your small glances or longing looks when his back is turned. I have eyes, you’re just lucky everyone is too wrapped up in themselves to even notice.” 

“Or just wrapped up in someone else.” You couldn’t help but mutter under your breath, hoping it was low enough that Ruby couldn’t hear. 

“So, you are jealous.” Ruby had that sly grin on her face, and all you wanted to do was wipe it off her face. 

You rolled your eyes before scoffing. “The only thing I’m jealous of is everyone else who is sleeping right now.” You kicked off the door frame and walked past Ruby, shoulder-checking her as you made your way to the bed with your bag on it. 

Ruby chuckled. “I’m sure you can stay up for a couple of more minutes. Besides, you aren’t that slick when trying to change the subject.” 

“Have you ever considered not bothering me?” 

“Not when I need your help.” 

You threw your head back with a groan escaping your lips. “For the last time, I’m not helping you with your schemes.” 

“Who said I was scheming?” You took a glance at Ruby, who had her head cocked to the side. 

“You’re a demon, you’re always scheming or lying.” You pointed out as you unzipped your bag, doing anything but looking at Ruby. 

“Do you think that lowly of me?” 

“Yes.” 

Ruby scoffed. “I’m sorry, who was the one who was tortured by Alastair because they knew the location of the rogue angel. Oh, right it was me.” 

Your head snapped to stare at her incredulously.“You helping us once doesn’t warrant my trust for a single second.” 

“And what about all of the times that I tipped off Sam. Come on, you have to admit that I do help you guys in some way.”

Anger filled your chest as you turned from the bed and quickly rushed at Ruby, grabbing her shoulder and pinning her against the wall—quickly placing your forearm against her windpipe, putting slight pressure against it, but not enough to cut off her air supply. 

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen closely.” You said in a low voice, glaring at the demon in front of you. 

“I’m not going to be a pawn in this fucked up game of yours. You may have your claws deep into Sam and feeding him the delusion that you’re helping us, but I know that you have something up your sleeve. I don’t know your endgame, but you better believe I’ll kill you before you even get to reach it.” Your upper lip was threatening to twitch up in a snarl as you glowered down at Ruby. 

But all she did was smirk, making the anger boil in your blood. “Didn’t expect you to have some bite to you. Maybe you are just more than a pretty face.” 

“Has anyone told you to shut the fuck up?” You glared at her harder as you applied more pressure on her throat. 

Ruby let out a breathy laugh. “Sam does and most of the time, he has a pretty creative way of doing it.” 

You couldn’t help but flick your gaze down to her plush lips before meeting her brown eyes that were filled with mirth.

“Spare me the details.” You tried not to think about what she was suggesting about her and Sam, but you couldn’t help the spark of arousal that zipped down your spine. 

“Are you sure? Because I thought you would love to hear about how he forces me to my knees and makes me choke around his thick cock.” Ruby had a salacious smile pulled on her lips. 

“Shut up.” You growled out as you unconsciously leaned closer to her. 

“Make me.” She purred. “Or are you-” You quickly shut her up by smashing your lips against hers. 

Her lips were soft against yours as the two of you kissed each other fervently and hard. This wasn’t an innocent kiss between two people who liked each other; it was a filthy one meant to show who was in charge and you were winning. You felt her hands fly to your hips, pulling you closer to her body. You moved the arm that was against her neck to grab the nape of her neck as your other hand trailed down to the hem of her shirt.

You nipped at her bottom lip before delving into her mouth, tasting mint and the faintest hint of tequila. Your tongues fought for dominance, but you shoved her harder against the wall with your body, making a small moan escape her lips as you kissed her. Your lips left hers with a string of saliva connecting the two of you before you trailed your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. The hand on her neck joined the other at the hem of her shirt—only detaching from her neck to pull the piece of clothing over her head. 

Your hands landed on her bare waist, the temperature of her skin being cooler than you expected it to be, but you paid no mind to it as you started to kiss and nip at her chest, leaving hickies scattered throughout her golden colored skin. Ruby’s hands were pulling at the hem of your tank top. You let her pull it up and off of you, throwing it to the ground before pulling you into another kiss—your bare breasts brushing against her bra-covered chest, making a low moan leave your lips at the feeling of your nipples brushing against the lacey material of it. 

Your hands moved up and around to her back to unclasp her bra. Once the straps fell down her arms and onto the ground in between the two of you, you grabbed her hips, pulled her away from the wall, and pushed her down roughly on the bed. You quickly got on top of her, slotting yourself in between her open legs, and kissed her roughly again as one of your hands quickly flicked open the button on the jeans she was wearing. You knew that Ruby could easily overpower you in this position, but she was letting you manhandle her like she couldn’t use her abnormal demon strength to turn the tables. 

You shoved your hands down her jeans and underwear, and a low whine escaped her lips when your fingers rubbed over her wet slit. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” You breathed against her lips, having pulled away from her now swollen lips. “Who knew a demon like you got off on arguing, but then again I should have expected it.” 

Ruby’s face scrunched up, and right before she could throw back a witty retort, a groan left her lips instead at the feeling of your fingers rubbing circles on her clit. You went back to sloppily kissing at her neck, leaving trails of saliva as your lips moved down her chest and took one of her nipples in your mouth and sucked at the hardened nub. Your free hand kneaded the unoccupied breast—pinching and tweaking her nipple. 

Expletives and moans left Ruby’s lips as you sucked at her tits and rubbed at her clit. You stopped rubbing at her clit to shove two fingers into her slick cunt, moaning against her chest as you felt little resistance as your fingers entered her. You bit her nipple, tugging on it with your teeth before letting go of it. 

You moved up from her chest, leaving teasing kisses along her skin as you reached her ear. “Look at you moaning like a whore.” You nibbled at her earlobe and chuckled at her, feeling her clench around your digits at the name. 

“Oh, you liked that.” You teased her as you tried to locate the spongy spot inside of Ruby—your fingers speeding up as you did. “You like being talked down to like a slut?” 

A high-pitched whine left Ruby at your words, clenching again around your fingers as her hips reached to meet each thrust of your fingers. But you stopped your ministrations abruptly, leaving your fingers inside of her warm pussy as you pulled away from her ear, along with most of your body from her to use your free hand to grip the long hairs at the nape of her neck. 

“Tell me.” You tug at her hair, another moan escaping her lips as you do, making you smirk at how strung Ruby is for you. 

“Fuck.” She groaned out. “Yeah I do. Now are you gonna keep going or do I have to finish myself off?” Ruby managed to snap at you, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the noises she was making.

You couldn’t help but smile evilly at the plan that formed in your head at Ruby’s retort. “No, I’ll finish you off. But I have to get my fill first.” 

You promptly withdrew your fingers from her heated cunt and swiftly took off your soaked underwear. You grabbed both of Ruby’s wrists and climbed up her body, pinning her wrists with one hand as your naked cunt hovered Ruby’s mouth. 

You looked down at her to find her staring hungrily at your slick core. “Make me cum first and I’ll think about finishing you off.” Is what you said to her before lowering yourself down on her face, letting a soft sigh of pleasure leave your lips when you felt her tongue lave over your heated cunt. 

“Shit.” You moaned. “I can see why Sam uses your mouth like this, it’s the only thing that it’s good for when you’re not spewing your bullshit.” You managed to say as pleasure filled your veins and your hips rutted against Ruby’s mouth. 

Her tongue moved up and down your slit, tasting you for all you were worth before sucking your clit into her mouth, suckling on it before adding more suction to it. A louder moan escaped your lips as you ground your cunt harder down on her mouth. 

Ruby wouldn’t ever admit it, but it felt good to be used by you like this. If this meant she’d get one step closer to you helping her, then so be it. But she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide the arousal that pooled in her underwear at the fact you used her like your personal toy. You weren’t shy about how hard you grinded down on her face. She moved from your clit to thrust her tongue in you—her nose bumping against your swollen clit sent you faster down to tipping over the edge. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good f’me Ruby, eating me out like a good little whore.” You gripped her wrists a little tighter, using your free hand to grip the top of her hair, and pulled at hair there—Ruby groaning at the sting of pain into you, sending vibrations through you. 

The motel room was filled with your moaning and groaning as you rode Ruby’s face to oblivion, and you didn’t care how loud you were. Ruby could easily have ripped herself out of your grip, but something in her wanted to submit to you, so she did, letting you use her however you pleased. 

Ruby had moved her talented tongue from your cunt and drew your clit into her mouth, and sucked hard on it. It threw you off the edge and into your orgasm. You came hard on her face, your pussy clenching around nothing as pleasure racked your body. She kept sucking on your clit as you came all over her face, wetting her chin and mouth with your slick until you shakily removed yourself from her face and collapsed next to her. Your grip on her wrists fell as you tried to calm yourself from the intensity of your orgasm. 

You could hear the rustling of the sheets right next to you but kept your eyes closed as you caught your breath. 

Before you could peel your eyes open, you felt cold hands grip your wrists and pin them to the bed. You opened your eyes to find a now naked Ruby hovering over you with a devilish smile on her face, but she didn’t bother cleaning your arousal from her face as she leaned down so her face was close to yours. 

“My turn.” Ruby’s lips brushed against yours as she spoke. 

From there you knew you were in for a long night.   

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[girlwhorizzed]

sometimes you thought jj liked to mess with you on purpose. with all the girls he'd have on his arm for the night being just to fuck with you, and all the ones he'd bring to the chateau, only whenever he knew you would be there.

it’s not that you guys were exclusive or anything— but god, he could at least be a decent guy and not rub it in your face, especially when deep down you know you’re the only girl he actually wants. you know how he is.

there was no denying it at this point — he was definitely getting a kick out of making you upset. he was no stranger to being an ass just for the sake of it and he was pretty used to having girls fawn and pine after his every move like he was a prize worth having. so for that reason, he’s extra amused when it comes to your attempts to rile him up, always amused with the thought of you seething on the inside, knowing he could make you act out so easily.

it was an unspoken game he liked to play with you, one where he made it his personal mission to rile you up as much as possible just to see how you’d react. whether it was being obnoxiously clingy with other girls in front of you, or being overly affectionate all of a sudden, you’re always so damn fun to mess with.

but today, you were in a funk — more agitated than normal, which was saying a lot because you could often be rather huffy. so jj had known, and yet he still decides to go and poke at your patience. your fuse was short as it was, so when you find him in the chateau with yet another girl from the cut he was entertaining, you were already angry and on the verge of tears. jj is sat on the couch, the pretty girl on his lap as he casually smokes a blunt, his mouth forming a grin when he sees you enter the room.

“oh hey. you’re just the girl i wanted to see.” he grins, not even having the decency to look sheepish. the girl on his lap gives you a quick glance over, taking in your dishevelled appearance with a judgemental eye before returning her attention to him. you cross your arms, shooting him a look as the girl on his lap scoots in closer, draping her arms around his neck lazily. and it was that stupid, smug little look on his face, along with the sound of her sweet giggles, that has you absolutely seething. he’s practically sitting there challenging you to snap, his shoulders relaxed back and arm resting over the back of the sofa as he watches you with an amused, expectant gaze.

usually you'd give into his games, let it get to you, let it cause you to end up with a runny nose and sad eyes in your bed. not today you've decided, a quick decision you really haven't acknowledged yet— just knew you were going to do. you play it carefully, like you remember doing in highschool, breath in and out— flash a sweet smile and walk off.

he’s momentarily shocked, not having expected you to react any other than your usual pouty self when he was blatantly messing with you. he thought for sure he was about to receive a good little whine, so when you instead just give him a little smile before heading to your spare room to get ready, he assumes. he had been waiting for you to start arguing, already prepared to rile you up even. more — but that’s not what you end up doing. his eyes narrow in confusion as he watches you go into your room and disappear behind the closed door. when he hears the lock click, he has to resist the urge to get up and bang on it immediately — deciding to wait just a little bit first. he huffs, trying to play it off cool with the pretty brunette in his lap who he’d forgotten about, giving her a gentle pat on the leg.

you focus all of your attention into the makeup you’re doing, taking your time and putting all of your focus into it. you have no idea where you’d go, but you didn’t care, you just needed to get away from him and his antics for a while. you take your time, really putting your heart and soul into getting yourself ready. by the time you’re done you look pretty so, so very pretty, and there’s no doubt about it, you’ll definitely turn heads tonight.

it’d been twenty minutes of silence in the living room when jj starts to get a little antsy; you were taking forever and a day. he was no stranger at all to you getting ready for a night out, always taking your time to perfect your makeup. only this time, he didn’t like it. he didn’t like not knowing what you were doing, or where you would be going, or what you would be wearing and who you’d end up around. the idea of you showing up somewhere, looking all prettied up and sexy for other guys to see you, really didn’t sit with him. he’s still sat with the girl, chatting a little mindlessly and occasionally casting a glance towards your door, a little confused why you hadn’t come back yet. he was expecting you to come out and try to talk him into not hanging out with the girl, not to just go MIA and get ready. he was getting a little bored and restless, deciding it was about time that he checked on you. “be back a second.” he murmurs to the girl, standing up and going to your door, frowning before knocking.

when you open the door, it finally clicks for him that your not moody, expected some red around the eyes and a slight pout to your pretty lips, but instead you’re in front of him, looking even more stunning than normal. he raises his eyebrows in surprise, slightly shocked at the level of effort you’ve gone through just to get changed. he’s stood in front of the now open door, watching as you look through dresses on the bed, all pretty things you’d only ever wear when he’d taken you for a nice night out. he takes your whole appearance in, all dolled up and obviously not wearing skimpy party clothes in front of him tonight. “where you going?” he asks, his voice a mixture of perplexed and irritated at the same time.

"somewhere." you say, cautiously aware to keep it vague— he'd go out of his way to ruin it for you— yet hearing the irritation visibly in his tone of voice caused the decision of a baby pink dress that complimented your body so majestically, you could be considered a goddess.

he’s leaning against the door frame, still in those grey baggy sweatpants and a white shirt that fit snuggly around his arms. he rolls his eyes at your blunt response, arms crossing over his chest. “somewhere? be more specific, baby.” he prompts again, watching you change into the pretty outfit with a slight frown, not even sure why he cares so much. after all— he's done this to you so many times before.

hearing him call you baby in that damn near desperate yet irritated tone causes your cheeks to flush, as they always do when he pulls that card, but you just can’t fold for him anymore. not this time. you try your hardest to seem nonchalant and unbothered, but jj can see right through your little facade, watching as you slip into the dress and turn back to face him. he does take a moment to look you over — admiring the way the dress clung to your every curve and the pretty colour that made you look like a little doll. he’d have to be a damn fool not to acknowledge how pretty you were looking, and he could only hope that no one else would be able to see you tonight and think the same. “answer me.” he mutters, still leaned up against the door.

you could practically see his mind ticking over as he thinks of the types of places you could be going to, he’d expected you to be going out to some house party or a club — somewhere he could go to and find you again so he could keep an eye on you. but you weren't attending any of the things that came listed in his head. you were going to the country club even though you were from the cut, you had the beauty of a kook and surely none of the men would make a fuss out of it, maybe the women.

"m'going to the country club. my cousin works there and i could get a free drink or two."

but his jaw tightens when you mention the country club— he doesn’t like the thought of those pretty boys in their polos seeing you dressed like a doll, who would no doubt be eager to have such a pretty thing on their arm. jj was certain with the dress you had on you'd fit right in— but he couldn't let you know that. “the country club is for kooks, not pogue chicks from the cut.” he muttered.

"good thing i look like a kook then." you said, adding the finishing touches to your look— you knew you were being petty and didn't have any shame for it. if jj could play this game so could you, and who knows maybe you'd become eye-candy for the men at the country club— partly to get back at jj and partly for the free shit you could earn out of it. no one would ever suspect that this cute little thing would ever scam anybody.

his eyebrows raised at your response, jaw clenching even more. it was probably the one answer he hated most, of course you were going somewhere that had kooks and alcohol — just what you needed to get a good little buzz on and forget him, leaving yourself open to be pounced on by some random guy. you push past him, giving him a subtle wave and an air kiss as you leave out the door, not putting anymore effort into the conversation because it was his fault that you were going out anyways.

he has half mind to stop you in your tracks, push you back into your room and remind you who you belong to. he doesn’t though, because he knows you’d never forgive him for it, and decides to swallow all his possessiveness watching you leave through the front door with a huff of defeat. having pissed you off enough for you to go and get attention from others at a place that will no doubt be crawling with kooks who have a fetish for pogue girls, it was eating at him.

it was only a few hours later you returned back to the chateau, expecting it to be empty and vacant because when you left it was— kiara was grounded at home, and john b was God knows where, and pope probably at home studying. the lights were all out, signalling that no one was home and the house was vacant — giving you the perfect time to get changed and wash the makeup off your face before crawling into the spare bedroom. you were exhausted, having been chatted up by some guys who looked rich enough to piss on their father’s rolexes, and despite it giving jj a taste of his own medicine, you just wish your night hadnt ended up having to talk to so many pompous men.

you were feeling good, high off the ego boost you’d received from the men at the country club that night who’d spent their evening complimenting you like crazy and asking for dances. you’d come back, a little buzzed from the champagne and cocktails, and expecting the chateau to be just as it was when you left — empty and quiet. how wrong you were, and it was evident when you were when you open the door and he’s lounging on the sofa, still in the same sweatpants and white shirt from earlier, clearly having just been sat there the whole time you were gone. his head turns and he locks eyes with you, and despite it being dark inside, you’re sure he’s watching you like a hawk, noting your appearance.

"hi jj." you say shyly, breaking the silence and embarrassment hitting when face-to-face. you were together but the constant back to back with other people made you feel ashamed. at least whenever you got back at him, and this was one of those times out of two.

he’s watching you, silent and somewhat tense as he runs his eyes over your figure for what feels like the hundredth time, jaw clenching again when he sees the way the dress hugs your body. he doesn’t know what’s pissed him off more — the fact you’d put yourself in that dress and the country club, or the fact you seem to be embarrassed to be back at what is your own house too. “have a nice time?” he asks, voice slightly gruff as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

you’re just about to pass him on the way to your room— not in any mood for an argument that could occur tomorrow morning when you were in a better headspace— but when his hand suddenly grabs your arm and has you pushed up against the nearest wall, your body almost completely squashed against his as he practically pins you down, his chest rising and falling with anger. “stop fuckin' cheating on me.” he asks in a low voice, eyes piercing down on your own.

he doesn’t really mean it, of course he doesn’t, he knows you would never give yourself up— but the jealousy was bubbling and bubbling, and it makes him want you all to himself and away from the other guys in that damn country club. he doesn’t trust any of them, and he sure as hell doesn’t trust you going there and not getting chatted to. he’d been sitting here for hours thinking of every damn scenario of you getting drunk and chatting it up with a rich boy. he’s got you there as his hand moves to capture your jaw in a firm grip, his thumb rubbing roughly across your cheek — his eyes darkened, staring into yours as he has you completely pressed against the wall with no where to run. you’d been wanting his attention all day, even more so when he’d started messing with you with some girl, and here he was, all the attention in the world on you with his body so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. “you gonna answer me or not, princess?"

"i didn't cheat on you. you cheat on me!" you say, the ego boost from the alcohol begining to take place as you stand up to him— it wasn't fair he got to pull the cheating card on you when the only times you'd ever act out like this was when he'd pushed you to your own limits. but of course it was only reasonable when he could have other people over him.

"the hell i do.” he scoffs, his temper rising at your response. he’s a little shocked at the courage you had to talk back to him, but at the same time he’s kinda into it. he can see the slight flush to your cheeks, so he assumes you’re probably at least a little tipsy right now, which has the ego boost he thought you were getting from the country club making even more sense to him. “what did you go to the country club for then, huh?”

you scoffed at that, eyes practically rolling back. he had the nerve to come for you when he'd done all this just for a reaction, and get upset when he got one. "what did you have that girl in your lap for then, huh?" you bark, he could be such a hypocrite.

he rolls his eyes, his irritation bubbling up even more as you use his own words against him — you were right, he couldn’t deny it, but he’d be damned if he’d admit that to you. he presses you back against the wall, his body completely against yours, leaving no gap between the two of you. “you’re not getting away with that, princess.” he mutters, his breath hitting your face.

the pet name seems to soften you, it always did have a way with making you feel special, making you fold completely. it's evident on your face, when your cheeks blush. his names for you always melted your defences, growing soft and all warm again with that. any other girl would brush it off and continue arguing and pushing the matter about the girl— you’re slowly giving up — giving up that tough, argumentative attitude you’d suddenly sprouted up with.

he had you right where he wanted you now, watching as once again, his use of that nickname makes you fold. the irritation in his expression melts away a little as he’d never been able to resist his own sweet little pet when she was soft, pink cheeks and looking all pretty in her pretty pink dress. “there you go, princess…” he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his thumb and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

he’s staring down at you, his body still practically pinning you against the wall, your curves flush against his. he had you completely at his mercy right now, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take advantage of that or try and act like a good boy and be soft with you. “how much did you drink?” he asks, voice a little gruff as he looks down at your lips — they were more red and shiny now then he remembered.

"just two. didn't wanna do to much." you say softly, even mad at him you respected him— he is your boyfriend after all and getting black out drunk with a bunch of other men would disrespect him. but for now, you always took pride in enjoying when moments like this occured. when both of you got soft with each other and all cuddly, staring up at him with your doe eyes.

he studies your face, not entirely sure if he believes you only had two — you looked a little more floaty and giggly than he remembered. but he couldn’t deny that he loved you like this, pretty and sweet and soft in front of him. he knew his resolve would probably crumble at some point anyway, especially if you kept looking at him with those big eyes. “you sure about that, baby?”

"uh-huh." you say, shaking your head obediently with a little bite to your lip. readjusting his hand from your jaw to your curves that were perfectly grabable in this little cute dress.

he’d almost forgotten you’d gone out and put the pretty dress on to piss him off — in fact, he kinda had until he noticed it again. he still didn’t like you wearing something that was gonna get attention from men at the country club, and he had half a mind to tell you to change immediately. he lets out a heavy sigh, running eyes hand over his face. “you had guys lookin’ at you?”

you rolled your eyes jokingly as you flashed him with a cheeky grin. "didn't pay no attention to them though. just took pictures for instagram." you giggled, knowing you of course you took pictures, but jj was an over thinker and would always assume the worst, even being soft as he is now, he's still bombing you with questions.

“instagram huh?” he asks, a hint of annoyance on his face — he was definitely gonna check that later. he doesn’t think you’d be stupid enough to use that as a coverup to show some random guy your cute pink dress, but he’s certain he’s not going to like the comments you’ve recieved about your appearance. “any comments on those pictures?” he mutters, already assuming he knows the answer.

"just kiara and sarah." you giggled, you start to move his hands, letting his eyes close momentarily as your adjusting his palms from cupping your breast to your ass.

he hates how the answer somewhat calms him down, although he’s not at all pleased about the fact some guys have more than likely seen the photos. he’s not liking it one bit, but it’s even more irritating for him how soft and sweet you’re being, and how god damn pretty you are in that dress. he watches as you move his hand, a slight scoff leaving him. “keep still, baby.”

he’s taking his time looking over your appearance, noting that you were definitely a little more giggly than usual and your eyes were slightly dilated — and he doesn’t think you’re putting that on, which means you’d probably actually had more of a buzz than you’d led him to believe. his hands slide from your jaw down your body, feeling the silk of the dress on his fingers as he moves them down your hips.

it's quiet for the most part, your head against his chest and a few meaningful kisses and muttering sweet but nothings— before he can’t take it anymore, having you in the hallway and against the wall isn’t enough for the boy, as he grabs your arm and practically drags you towards the bedroom as you both let out giggled.