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zyafics-recs · 1 day ago

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i know this gonna break my heart... sigh... taking deep breaths... let's go ⬇️

It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.

first and foremost, i love the characterization of rafe. something about ur interpretation of him feels so lively and real, especially because it relates to his canon. when i was reading thru his thoughts, i was like, woah, rafe would act this way.

He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.

i love the line throwing grenades, waiting for who to blow up first. ur metaphors have always been some of my favorites, so i always love highlighting and pointing it out <3

Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty.

i love the turn of internal conflict, that rafe - who has always been loyal as a dog to ward - can have his own conflicting emotions about his father

Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect. To Rafe, that meant something. Everything

but at the end of the day, rafe recognizes that he has to set his father on a pedestal because that's all he's ever done. all he'll ever do.

At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.

that actually hurts, the idea that you're dissociating, going somewhere where he can't follow u? oh the miseryyy

He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that.

i love u pointing out the validation-seeking 🙂‍↕️

Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?

this is such a bitter moment, but it's also shows how rafe just reverts back to his younger self in the presence of his father. that even if ward's death, he will continue to haunt the narrative. also, "shit, that was something, wasn't it?" was such a bitter realization.

Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.

HE SAW HIS FATHER

Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.

i love the depiction of seeing rafe as nothing more than a prop, an entertainment for the rest of the kooks. it gives u this zoo-like viewing of rafe rather than human.

It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.

he's so protective over his father

“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.”

I LOVE HER FOR THIS SOMETHING ABOUT THIS OWNS MY HEART

You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”

she's real and she should speak on it

“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”

i love her but god that must've hurt

His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”

i love that he only picked up the things that he hears, not the fact that he's blind to see it, but rather accusing him of being "dumb"

he has such self-destructive tendencies omg

“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”

i love their arguments so much, because it's so bitter, and resentful, and sharp and it cuts so deep. that's one of my favorite things about this series, is when they're talking, they're going all in

That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.

SOMETHINGS WRONG GO HELP HER

But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting?

my favorite line

He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”

he's hurt too (but he's a dick) but he's hurt too 🥹

He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here?

i love the lingering love, especially because i believe rafe to be the type of person who cannot mourn loss whatsoever, he keeps it in his chest forever, when he loves someone, he'll love them forever

“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."

ONE OF THE BANGER LINES OF THIS PART AHHH

“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”

oooo i love this, sometimes i be forgetting they're toxic.

💌 — i love love their argument in this one. i love how u manage to capture rafe's essence with this characterization, especially post-ward, because i often don't read a lot of fics with ward being a dead presence but haunting the narrative. and that make rafe's viewpoint so conflicting, especially since he's trying to grieve but come to terms on who his father is. i absolutely love how u build up to their breaking point, because they have all these things festering under the surface that neither are willing to talk about until someone breaks, and that's how their relationship dynamic is. every time we get to see an insider scope of rafe's head, i am amazed, because the way he analyzes things, flowing from one thought to the next, makes sense. he's insecure, he's grieving, he's angry, and all of these emotions are hitting him at full-force and no one is allowing him the proper space to actually deal with them—especially because ward never did. and when their argument was just bitter shots at one another, just to hurt each other, you know it hurt. oh oh, gigi, u amaze and fascinate me so much!!

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SIX

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care; drug and alcohol addiction;

Rafe had been clean for the past three years.

Over the course of the year, things between him and you had been smooth sailing.

Eventually, both of you learned to talk instead of shouting, learned when to back down instead of pushing buttons just to get a reaction. You’d gotten better at letting each other breathe. He’d pull back when he felt himself getting heated, and you’d do the same.

It wasn’t perfect; sometimes you’d still get into it, still end up in an argument that felt like old times, but it was different. There were no more lines on the bathroom counter, no disappearing at all hours.

Until Ward died.

Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect.

To Rafe, that meant something. Everything.

Ward had shaped him, he couldn’t just forget that, couldn’t act like that wasn’t important.

At first, you were there for him, no question.

He knew you hated Ward, you barely tolerated the thought of him even existing in the same room as you. You spent those first few weeks with him, making sure he didn’t spiral back into the shit that nearly destroyed him. He needed the support, even if he didn’t always know how to ask for it.

You were there, holding it down. You got through it, the late-night talk, but then, you started getting distant.

He pretended he didn’t sense it, tried to tell himself you’d come around.

After all, this was his grief, and no one else was going to understand it the way he did. His dad had been everything to him—maybe not in the way you thought he should’ve been, but that was just the reality of it.

For the first time in years, it felt like you weren’t there with him. It didn’t make sense to him how you couldn’t see it.

Ward had been a tough guy, sure, cruel sometimes, but he was also a provider, a father who tried to teach him how to survive, even if it didn’t always come wrapped in the right way.

He wanted to mourn in peace, but no one seemed to understand why Ward still mattered to him, not even Sarah.

He’d had people telling him he wouldn’t make it three weeks, let alone three years. Shit, his dad sure didn’t think he’d get this far. Only you.

Rafe squinted at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then leaned back in the worn leather of his dad’s old armchair. It felt weird being in here, in his chair, in his office, breathing in that persistent smell of old cigars and varnish.

After the whole “funeral”, with everyone looking at him like he was a wild animal about to snap, this was the only place he could sit without someone judging him.

If you’re so clean, why are you drinking yourself half to death? He took a slow sip, letting it burn down his throat.

It wasn’t like it used to be, that high that hit fast and hard, and didn’t care if it broke him apart.

This was different, a slower, quieter process.

Besides, he was in control this time. Just a drink, he told himself, fingers tightening around the glass. No powder, no pills. That was progress.

So what if he had to take the edge off? Who wouldn’t, if they’d just said goodbye to their only living parent and had to look at their younger sisters crying like that?

He was practically swimming in alcohol. Rafe knew he was overdoing it, but he didn’t care.

Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.

Grounded.

Nobody understood him; they just kept looking at him with that worried face, like he was on the verge of losing it like he used to when he was younger. Maybe he already had.

You watched him—really watched him—and yeah, he could tell you were pissed. He saw it in that little wrinkle between your eyebrows every time he took another sip. But you didn’t say anything.

Even Wheezie was on his case in her quiet way.

She was hanging around, throwing out old jokes and trying to make him smile, but he barely reacted. She was looking at him like she was scared, as if he was some stranger she was trying not to set off. And he hated that—God, he fucking hated it. So he kept his distance, hoped she would back off, let him get through this his way.

But then came that night at the beach bonfire, when everything changed.

He probably shouldn’t have gone, but he needed to get out and feel normal again—even if that just implied showing up and pretending, he was fine. He dragged you along, flashing that cocky grin you could see right through, but you followed anyway, probably just to keep an eye on him. He could feel it—the way you were watching him, worried as hell, that just made him want another drink.

“Guess Ward Cameron finally found some gold he couldn’t buy his way out of, huh? What was he thinking, running off to some country where people don’t just take bribes? Practically killed himself.”

It took everything in him not to lunge right there, but he was too plastered to keep the anger off his face. He pushed his way over to the guy, hands clenched into fists.

“You got something you want to say to my fuckin’ face?”

The guy shrugged, muttering something under his breath, people were looking now, everyone watching to see if he was finally going to give them a show.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was shoving him back, hard enough that the dude stumbled, beer splashing out of his cup. The crowd around them stirred, murmurs, but nobody did a thing—they were just staring, waiting to see the blood spill. He felt tempted to hurt someone, felt that cameron fury crawling up his throat.

It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.

He felt you grab his arm, long nails digging hard enough to pull him back, he jerked his shoulder, trying to shake you off, but you weren’t letting go.

“You’re gonna waste your time on him?”

Rafe gritted his teeth, but you didn’t give him a chance to argue. You hauled him back, forcing him away from the guy, who was still standing there with that smug look plastered on his face.

“Get out. Now,” you urged him, voice calm but with the tone that even he didn’t want to test. He glared at you, mouth opening to argue, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “Rafe. Now.”

You were mad at him.

It was enough to knock some sense into him, and he let you reel him away, but not before you turned back.

“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.”

There was no bluff, no hesitation, and Rafe watched as the pogue’s smug expression dropped instantly, eyes widening as he realized you were dead serious, your family’s name always had an impact around town, old money and all.

As you dragged him to the car, he muttered that he didn’t need you playing bodyguard, but you ignored it, taking him out of the spotlight he hated but couldn’t seem to avoid.

His head was spinning, his blood boiling, and he couldn’t even look at you, not with how angry he felt.

By the time you pulled up to his house, you got out, guiding him inside with that hard, that silent determination he both hated and admired in you.

You were there, right behind him with that look on your face—angry, disappointed, like he was missing something big, as if he was the one who didn’t get it.

He stumbled into the bathroom, holding himself against the sink, and before he could even catch his breath, you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. He jerked back, sputtering, wiping it with the back of his hand. When he looked at you, his anger burned again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped.

“My problem?” you scoffed head already shaking, “Are you serious?”

“You don’t get it,” he growled, barely controlling the rage, the shame—everything. “You don’t know a fuckin’ thing about him. I had the right to defend him.”

Rafe laughed bitterly, the sound humorless. “Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.

He didn’t look at you, didn’t want to see the indignation—or worse, the pity—in your eyes.

“Just stop,” he muttered, but you were past listening.

“No, I won’t stop. I can’t. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself again. You’re better than this.”

He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.

“You don’t get to stand there and tell me what I deserve.”

“I know what you deserve.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, though his face had gone a shade paler. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” he sneered. “Think you know what’s best for me? Get off your high horse.”

“You’re damn fucking right I know better than you do, I’m not the one who’s drowning every night in some pathetic tribute to a man who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

He could feel it now, the bitterness you’d been hiding for weeks. It wasn’t just about him drinking himself stupid. It was everything—every fucking thing you’d been ignoring, it had festered between you two while you pretended things were okay.

“You’re the one who’s just tired of me, of everything that comes with me.”

You took a step back, eyes narrowing, but you didn’t flinch.

“What?” Your rage momentarily dialed down, the sound gurgling, “You think I’m tired of you? I’ve been here this whole time, trying to make you see the truth, but you won’t even look at me. You won’t let me in. You’re too fucking blind to notice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“You don’t get it! I didn’t need you to fix me, I needed someone to stay. But instead, you—" His voice cracked, the anger choking him up, "Instead, you started to make me feel like I was a b-burden. Some mess you had to clean up. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"

You were shaking your head, your eyes had already been filled with tears, your chest suffocating.

“I’ve been here. I’ve been standing right next to you, waiting for you to pull your shit together. I didn’t walk away. You did.

His stomach churned, as if you’d taken every inch of space in his chest and twisted it, just for fun. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue with you. Not really. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, so obsessed with keeping everyone out, that he hadn’t even seen how far you’d already gone.

“I’m not trying to play the hero!” you screamed, stepping closer, your eyes were cold. “I’m trying to help you see that you have to fix this. Not me. Not anyone else. But you. And if you’re so fucking broken you can’t see that, then maybe you really don’t need me.”

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Rafe could feel his heart racing, that agonizing coil in his chest, but he couldn’t stop.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, voice quieter, but just as venomous.

He turned his back on you, walking to the door. The sound of his boots clamped against the wood floor like a countdown.

“Maybe I don’t. Grab your shit and go.”

"Don’t you fucking—" you snarled, but he was already moving, grabbing your jacket off the hook by the door and throwing it your way, “You know what? Fine. Maybe I will.” You shoved that stupid thing on, hands shaking as you yanked the zipper up. “Don’t come running back in two days like you always do. Don’t come crawling back.”

Rafe paused, hand on the doorknob, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle ticking.

He didn’t turn around, didn’t look back at you.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“Good. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,” you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. “What I feel now? That’s just disappointment.”

You watched his shoulders lock up; his whole body wound so tight it was like he was one wrong look away from completely losing it. He didn’t turn around either, even as you slipped out the door, but he knew.

That was it.

Two moths later, almost three, he was standing in front of the ER pacing like a complete fucking idiot after you passed out in his arms earlier.

He’d told himself he’d stay away, make it easy for both of you.

He had stupidly thought that maybe, one day, you two could still be friends. But today? That shit blew up in his face, for the second time in the span of a week.

He forgot what you could invoke in him when you were standing merely an inch away. He promised himself that he’d moved on, forced to consider that the love of his life might not be someone he could spend his lifetime with. Maybe you weren’t meant for each other.

But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting?

No, no, no.

Sofia was what he needed.

Someone who didn’t know shit about his past, who didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t seen him the way you had, hadn’t been there through every drunken rant and punch he’d thrown at the wall or someone’s face, hadn’t heard him rail against his dad or drag himself back from one of his darkest nights.

She hadn’t called him a fucking idiot when he chose to throw his father’s ashes on the ocean. She wasn’t going to call him a coward for it. She didn’t have a clue about any of it, and that was supposed to be what he wanted.

He looked up at the ER doors for the millionth time in the past hour, his fingers clenched around his jeep keys so tight they left marks on his hand.

It was over between you two. He’d make sure to keep the fucking distance, two whole months. If he didn’t give you enough closure, you’d hate him faster and you’d both get over it.

So why the fuck was he about to set the whole hospital on fire as he watched John B’s beat up twinkie pull up to the parking area? It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did.

Of course you’d call her, his own sister—his father's favorite.

Sarah had always been the golden child, Ward’s little angel who could do no wrong, while he was the family screw-up. Even now, you’d picked her, just like Ward would have.

He didn’t think before he moved, closing the distance between him them in seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He barked right up in her face, daring her to explain herself.

Sarah didn’t back down, though. She just looked up at him with that same cool, level expression she always had whenever he tried to get a rise out of her.

“I’m here because she called me.”

“She called you?” He scoffed, eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. “You? She called you?” He took a step closer, “So what, you’re her savior now or some shit? Why the hell would she call you if I’m right here?” His eyes narrowed, searching her face like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me?”

Sarah threw her hands up, a look of pure exasperation on her face.

“Are you dense, Rafe? You’re with someone else! Why would she want the guy who broke her heart to drive her home?”

He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”

“Oh, right. A favor?” Sarah cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That why you’re pacing out here like a goddamn lunatic?”

“Go away. I’m driving her home.”

She stepped closer, her voice steely as she looked him dead in the eye.

“No. She called me, she wants me here. Not you. So do yourself a real favor and go home before you do something even more stupid.”

A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, “She already hates me, Sarah. What’s the fucking harm, huh?” He threw his arms out, as if daring her to come up with an answer that would hurt less. “What’s one more screw-up on top of everything else?”

“You’re real dumb if you believe that. But if you wanna make it worse, then by all means, go ahead. You’ll just prove her right.”

He stayed rooted in place, chest heaving, the conflict ripping him to pieces. His hands shook, his throat tight with words he couldn’t even begin to understand.

But Sarah had already turned her back on him, heading toward the entrance.

“Walk away,” she warned him, looking over her shoulder, “That’s the only thing left for you to do right now.”

Rafe didn’t know why the fuck he listened to her.

It was as if his body had already made that decision for him, understanding that if he didn’t leave right then, he’d end up doing something stupid—something even more fucked up than what he’d already done. His tongue was locked in place, a curse on the tip of his pursed lips, but it never came.

His feet wouldn’t move, his hands stayed at his sides, and that tightness in his throat wouldn’t let him get a single word out, not one that would make any fucking sense. He hated that. Hated that you still had this kind of control over him.

Hated that he just…felt like something was wrong.

You hadn’t been this frantic, so impulsive since he had to take you home after your sister passed. He didn’t want to remember that night—you damn near threw yourself out of his truck.

But he couldn’t ignore the memory, the desperation on your face, the screams, the fight in his grip as he pulled you by your shirt back inside.

He’d felt like he was holding on to something breaking apart in his hands, something he couldn’t fix but couldn’t let go of either. He’d seen it again in your eyes when he’d caught you earlier at the beach clean-up, the way you’d tried to dodge his stare, voice cracking, legs wobbling when he mentioned the hospital.

Rafe still felt like he’d swallowed shattered pieces of glass every time he thought about you. And if he could just push it down, if he could just get through one fucking day without looking back, maybe he’d start to forget you.

His feet were glued to the hospital pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. If you were about to crash, if this was anything like before…He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.

Perhaps because he remembered the last time he’d let you walk out, the way he’d watched you disappear, thinking he was doing the right thing—giving you the clean end you’d both needed.

Maybe that made him sick to his stomach now, thinking of you in there with Sarah, telling his sister things you wouldn’t say to him, letting her be the person he once was to you.

But you’d called her, not him. You’d picked Sarah to be here, and that hurt like a bitch, but it was what he’d asked for, wasn’t it?

This was what he deserved. He told you to grab your shit and go, forced you to leave because that was supposed to make it easier.

He’d impulsively made his choice the minute he’d wrapped his arm around Sofia, pulling her close in front of everyone who’d once known he was yours. He’d talked himself into it. It was the right call, moving on was the only way to finally get you out of his system.

He was the one who decided it’d be easier to act like he forgot you than to actually try. He thought he could make it easy—pain-free.

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked back toward his Jeep. He gripped the door handle so hard he could break it in half if he wanted to, feeling his knuckles strain.

If he let go, if he closed that door and stormed inside, he’d just be right back where he started.

He stared at his reflection in the window, his hardened face staring back. His pulse was pounding in his temples, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to bury it all six feet under—the need to just go to you, to hold your hand or yell at you for making him care so fucking much.

He finally released the death grip he had on the door handle, forcing his fingers to relax, his knuckles still throbbing. He slid into the driver’s seat, the cold leather you’d help him choose, mocking at his skin as he slammed the door shut.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the car into drive, the tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.

He drove like he was being hunted down. He wanted to get as far away from that place as possible, praying the miles between him and you would stop the churning inside him.

You’ll just prove her right.

He hated her for saying it, hated Sarah for knowing exactly what buttons to push.

As he rounded a curve, his headlights swept across Topper’s house. Rafe cut the engine and stalked toward the backyard. Topper’s sprawled-out form on a reclining chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses somehow still on evenly.

He stomped up and smacked the end of his chair.

"Wake the fuck up."

He jolted, nearly tumbling off the chair, ripping his sunglasses off and squinting up at him. “Jesus fucking christ, dude, ever heard of calling ahead?”

But Rafe didn’t answer. He just paced, hands in his growing hair, digging into his scalp like he could rip the frustration out of his skull. Topper sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, he didn’t even look at him, just kept muttering to himself, biting his lip, pacing.

“What the hell happened?”

Finally, he stopped, “I need you to find out what’s wrong with your cousin,” he muttered, not wanting to admit he cared enough to ask.

Topper blinked, brow furrowing. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”

Rafe only shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “I don’t know, okay? She just…she’s acting off. And I can’t—I’m not supposed to care, Top. I’m not. I’m with Sofia now, alright? But she’s still…” His voice trailed off, as he scrubbed a hand down it.

Topper tilted his head, eyeing him knowingly.

“Right, yeah, whatever you say. I’ll figure it out.”

If Sarah Cameron didn’t walk through that hospital door within the next three minutes, you’d lose all the courage you’d summoned over the last hours. Or was it just an hour? You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying there, the IV needle taped uncomfortably into your arm.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket draped over you, and you wished—desperately—that you didn’t feel so…empty.

Ten minutes later, she strode in with a glance at the door, as if she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get there on time. The relief on her face when she saw you was reassuring but it only made the confusion in your chest heavier.

She was so different from Rafe, yet still looked so much like him. She sat in the chair by the bed, eyes scanning your face like she was trying to gauge just how bad it was.

“Hi.”

You swallowed, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” She reached for your hand where it lay on top of the blanket, hesitating for a split second before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?”

You felt a laugh bubble up, “Not even a little.”

She let out a small breath and nodded, squeezing your hand again. “I figured,” she said quietly, and you appreciated that she didn’t pretend to have some miracle answer, “I made him leave.”

She’d made him leave.

You could imagine his face distorted with anger.

You wondered if he’d put up a fight or if he’d just walked away, giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence he’d perfected.

You weren’t going to ask, the less you knew, the better.

“Good.” You were relieved, but it felt bittersweet, “I didn’t want him here.”

Except your voice shook, like it simply had to let her know you were lying.

You’d been telling yourself for so long that you didn’t need him—that you didn’t want him anywhere near you. But the second you pictured him there, waiting… God, you hated yourself.

Hated that tiny, pathetic part of you that still wanted him to care, even if it was just a sliver of anything that wasn’t anger or flat-out ignoring you.

“He threw a hissy fight, but don’t worry. He’s not coming back.”

You nodded, half in agreement, half in frustration, “He never listens.”

“Especially when it matters,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think he just likes to make things worse for himself. And everyone else.”

You recalled the sound of his footsteps trailing yours earlier, the way his hand had hovered near you when you swayed, the wild look on his face when you told him to back off. He had seemed…hurt. Like he wanted to fix something he’d already smashed to pieces.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

She respected that—she wouldn’t insist. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Rafe, but you didn’t need to go there right now. She could tell.

"Okay. Do you want to tell me why you called me and not Topper?”

There wasn’t any judgment in her tone—just plain curiosity, confusion. And you couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, you’d be asking the same thing.

You had to bite your lips to avoid crying for the hundredth time that day. You hadn’t planned on telling someone the biggest secret of your life in a public space, or after nearly having a mental breakdown.

Not like this, with the IV in your arm.

"I—" you started, the words tangled in your throat. "I don't trust him," you admitted quietly, "I don’t trust him with this.”

This.

You turned your head to look out the window, the late afternoon light pouring through the blinds, but it never touched the void you felt inside.

“He’s too close. He wouldn’t get it. I needed someone who could just… not be involved, you know? I mean—You’re still his sister but—”

Sarah’s already frowning, interrupting your pitying party, “Sweet girl, you don’t have to explain your reasons to me. I’m listening either way. I don’t know what’s going on, but I get it, I understand why you’d want to keep him out of this.”

“You’re the only one I can trust to keep this a secret,” you confessed, “If anyone finds out—if Rafe finds out—it’s over. I’m not ready for that.”

A shadow crossed Sarah’s face, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t ask questions about what you meant—about how Rafe had ruined things before. She didn’t need to.

“I won’t tell him,” Sarah promised, her grip tightening on your skin. “It’s safe with me. I’ve got your back.”

You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly.

This was hard, harder than anything you’d ever done before, and that was saying something considering all the shit you went through when your family died. She had no idea what you were about to say, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it would change everything between you—between you and her, and you and everyone else.

"Sara, I—" The truth choked you once more, cutting you off. You couldn’t breathe.

Your chest felt vacant, something was missing, something that you didn’t know how to fix, but you had to say it. It was the only way out.

“Are you—" she started to ask, but you quickly shook your head. You could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"Just… just let me tell you,” You begged, pushing the words out before you lost them. “I-I’m pregnant,” you finally blurted out, as if confessing it all at once could make it easier.

But it didn’t.

You didn’t dare look at Sarah right away.

Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling, blinking rapidly, you didn’t need her to see how much this was breaking you or how terrified you were. You could feel her eyes on you now, and your hand clenched around the blanket, your knuckles white from the lack of circulation.

Then, slowly, Sarah squeezed your hand again, she was giving you a moment to breathe, even though you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

“Rafe’s?” she asked quietly, confirming what you already knew she understood.

You nodded, not needing to say it aloud; she could sense the truth in the way your chest hitched, how you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

“God,” Sarah breathed out, "And you... you want to...?"

You nodded again. She wasn’t asking if you were sure; you could hear it in the hesitation of her question. She was asking if you were ready to make the choice.

“I don’t want this,” you choked out, the tears finally breaking free. “I can’t have it, Sarah. I can’t. I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I even know what I want anymore," you spit the doubt out with the brokenness you felt, wiping the traitorous tear that traced down your cheek. "I don’t know what to do."

“I’m here. Whatever you need, however you need to do this—I’m here,” she promised, making sure you wouldn’t float away.

“I can’t… I just… I don’t want him to find out,” you managed between shallow breaths. “If he knew, he’d… I don’t know what he’d do. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to look at me like… like he owns me something.”

Sarah nodded, not a hint of judgment on her face, “He won’t know a thing from me, I swear. He’ll never have any say in this, not unless you want him to. This is your choice, no one else’s.”

You didn’t know you’d been holding your breath, but it came out all at once in a shaky exhale.

“Thank you. I just… I didn’t know who else I could ask.”

“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle. “This? This is exactly what I’m here for. I’ve got you, no matter what.”

The empathy there, the way she held space for all your broken pieces.

“New Mexico’s clinic rules… they won’t let me go through with it alone. They said I need someone with me.” You took a shaky breath. “I can’t imagine anyone else but you there, Sarah.”

“Then I’ll be there,” she said, without hesitation. “I’ll get the tickets, we’ll go together. And if you feel like breaking down, then break down, because you don’t have to keep any of this in anymore.”

Her words broke something in you that had been holding everything so tightly. The relief, the gratitude— “You’re really… You’d really do this for me?”

“Of course,” she murmured, pulling you close so your head rested against her shoulder, her fingers brushing through your hair soothingly. “Sweet girl, I’d do this a thousand times over.”

“I mean—he’s your brother. I don’t want to mess things up between you two even more.”

She sighed, giving a small, sad smile, almost like she’d been waiting for you to say that. “You think he’s my priority right now? Don’t you worry about me and him, we always figure it out. Trust me, I’m used to it.”

“He might hate me for this. And if he takes that out on you…” You couldn’t finish.

“Listen to me,” she sighed, “I’m here because I care about you. Rafe and I, we’ll always have our issues—he’s stubborn, and he thinks he has all the answers. But that’s our problem. He’ll never have a say over what I do or who I’m there for. Especially not with this.”

You swallowed hard, “I don’t want you to regret it.”

She gave a wry laugh, brushing a piece of hair back from your face. “You don’t have to protect me from him, remember? He’s my brother, yeah, I love him despite all our shit, but I’m not here for him right now. I’m here for you.”

“You’re sure?” you asked, the question a whisper, almost childlike. You were afraid of the answer, terrified she’d eventually pull away.

“Of course I’m sure,” she replied, tilting your chin so you’d meet her eyes. “Whatever’s going on with Rafe will figure itself out—But right now, you need someone who’s all in, no strings, no doubts. That’s me. You focus on you. I’ll handle him.”

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, “I don’t think he loves me anymore,” you admitted, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear it, “I was so mean when your dad died.”

When you finally looked up, Sarah was watching you with a sad smile, one that made your heart hurt in both comfort and ache. “You really believe that?” she asked quietly, and you could hear the disbelief in her voice as if it was so obvious to her, something you couldn’t see.

You nodded, swallowing down the sting in your throat. “He doesn’t want me, not really. He’s…he pulled away. Like he’d rather hate me than be close to me. He’s with her.”

The words tasted bitter, and made you want to hurt him twice as bad, but there was finally some relief in saying it out loud.

She sighed, looking down for a second, almost like she was thinking how to tell you something that hurt her to admit.

Your lips quivered, your heart about to leap out of your throat, your tongue darted out, briefly brushing your lips.

You weren’t sure you should say it out loud, but maybe you had to. “We’re better off without each other, aren’t we?”

“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”

You were slipping, falling back into that spiral of guilt and shame, the one that told you maybe this was all you were good for. Maybe Rafe was right to break things off, perhaps he’d realized that, in the end, you weren’t worth fighting for.

And shit, you hated yourself for still caring. For still wanting him to want you, even though you knew it was poison. Even though you knew that being with him, needing him, was only dragging you both down.

“Thank you.”

And as you sat there, in the stillness of that room, with the sunlight dimming outside, you felt that maybe someday you’d be able to trust yourself too. To believe that you were worth more than the heartache you’d come to accept as your own.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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dwaekkicidal · 2 days ago

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thinking about cockwarming beomgyu while he's playing league with the boys,,,,

cw» fem!reader, rough sex, camera use + mic is on, he calls u dumb & a "stupid slut" hehe

you came over and quickly got tired of waiting for him to finish their game. and, in his defense, you didnt warn him prior! so he's not as willing to ditch his friends (just yet), so you'll have to live a little longer without his full attention </3

but... youre a princess >:( how dare he make you wait?!? so that wrinkly little brain of yours decides to take initiative.

you sneakily crawl into his lap and settle yourself on top of him <3 and you're so thankful for the lack of panties under your skirt that gives you easy access

and him? oh he's caught so off guard. he was completely immersed in his game so he barely saw you standing in the corner of his eye until you slung a leg over him. and its normal for you to sit in his lap while he games! so he doesnt really flinch

at least, not until you pull his loose shorts down just enough to slide his dick out <3 he finally realizes what you're doing when you lower yourself onto him, your walls all tight because you didn't prep yourself ><

his eyes actually roll into the back of his head at the unexpected, tight, warmth that your cunt offers & you get him killed because of it. and it just so happened that you did all this when he was in the middle of an important team fight that apparently would've won them the game, had he lived

which was unbeknownst to you at first, but it made very obvious from his next actions

he didn't really think much before he grabbed you by the back of the neck and shoved your face into the desk, conveniently putting you right beside his unmuted microphone

all his patience is gone at this point and youre held in place as he shoves himself back into you, spreading your cheeks apart so he can go even deeper. he tangles a hand in your hair while the other pins both of your wrists against the small of your back, then he goes to town

is brutal with his thrusts as he fucks you into his keyboard, causing a random mash of buttons to be pressed as he character finally respawns

but none of that is on his mind- or on his teammates minds either. they cant be bothered with the game anymore when youre all up in their ears moaning like a little whore <3 it had even gotten to the point where his members were begging him to turn his camera on so they could get a peak

"youre gonna let us hear but not see her?? c'mon man~"

"it takes like 2 seconds, just turn it on bro!!"

"y/nnie~ can you hear us? tell gyu to turn the cam on for us-" the pout evident in the voice

"shut the fuck up. she's in no position to give me orders."

despite the bite back he gives the people on the other side of discord, he lets go of your neck and reaches up to his camera. he puts it down on the desk just on the left corner, angling to so that they can see your entire upper body as well as part of his stomach

they whine and ask him to fix the angle a few times, but it falls upon deaf ears as his hips pick up their pace again. and hes just as brutal as before, hips slamming against yours and causing a wet slapping noise to get picked up on the mic

& the boys can't help but shove their hands down their pants as they watch you get fucked into oblivion. tears falling down your flushed cheeks and your legs shaking from how good he's giving it to you

and you cant deny how much you enjoy it~ not when you clench so tightly around him when his headphones are thrown off in favor of him putting the guys on his speakers, allowing you to hear the filthy comments theyre leaving for you

"fffuck- you look so pretty y/nnie~"

"is gyu fucking you good? yeah? he's tearing your little pussy up?"

"fuckkk your pretty tits look so good squished against the desk..."

"should let us watch you guys more often, gyu? you owe us for losing us that fight~"

the last comment makes him growl out and slam his hips against yours harder, his hand buried in your hair and forcing your face to the camera.

"blame this stupid little slut, not me! i didn't do shit."

& they cant even find it in them to complain about the echoing or the "Defeat" screen when your glossy eyes stare into the camera, almost begging them for more <3

considering this is my first txt post, If you're on my taglist and want to opt out of txt posts dm me! <3

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

#sian’s writing #gyu hard thoughts <3 #txt smut #txt x reader #txt x reader smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader smut

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sturnioz · 18 hours ago

Note

Fb!chris reaction to shy!reader flashing him randomly. Just to see that she spontaneously got her nipples pierced

truthfully, i dont see shy!reader getting her nipples pierced. but i lowkey loved this idea so i had to do it.

"i got something to tell you." you say with a bright smile as you shuffle up beside chris, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers expertly rolling a joint, the other one casually tucked behind his ear — maybe forgotten about, you think, but you decide against pointing it out as you wait, hoping to have his attention.

but he doesn't look at you. instead, he hums in response, his eyes glued to the rolling paper, completely absorbed in his task to even spare you a glance. frustration wells up inside you, and your smile fades, replaced with a deepening frown as your brows knit together.

you gently poke his shoulder this time, trying to break through his focus.

"don't. m'busy." he snaps, his tone sharper than you expected — a clear sign that he's not in the mood for distractions.

you can't help but huff at that, your initial excitement now sizzling into disappointment. you grip the bedsheets tightly, longing for his attention and feeling a little annoyed at his dismissiveness that in a moment of impulse, you nudge him, hoping this time to draw him away and into the conversation want so desperately want to have.

"kid.. don't."

"i want to tell you something." you reply, trying again, your tone laced with a hint of attitude that surprises even you, and to your relief, it seems to get through to him as he abruptly turns his head, his glare sharp and his jaw clenched tightly.

"stop bein' a fuckin' brat, kid. i told you that i am busy, yeah? i told you that, 'n now you're gettin' an attitude with me? learn to behave before i—"

you find yourself lifting your shirt without thinking, revealing the new, swollen piercings you impulsively got. you can't help but grin with pride, despite the fact you cried when you got them done — but he doesn't need to know that.

chris' gaze drops immediately to your chest, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he blinks, momentarily taken aback before he tucks the joint behind his other ear, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he lets out a small hum of acknowledgment.

"wow.." he murmurs, and for a moment, you think his reaction is rather bland and disappointing. but then you notice the smirk slowly spreading across his lips, his hand reaching out to gently cup your breast.

his thumb brushes against your swollen nipple, and you can't help but hiss at the sudden sting, instinctively swatting his hand away with a sharp slap.

"sore?" he asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

"obviously," you reply, frowning slightly before gathering the courage to ask. "do.. you like them?"

"do i like them?" chris repeats, pausing as if he's considering his response. but instead of answering your question, he shifts the focus back to you. "what made you wanna do this anyway, kid? didn't think you'd be into this kinda shit."

"kitty was getting hers re-pierced, and i felt a little confident," you admit, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks. "i wanted something done too."

"confident, huh?" chris hums, licking his lips as he shakes his head. "kitty's a bad influence on you, kid. gotta stop hangin' out with her so much."

that is not the response you were hoping for, and you pull your shirt down with a small huff, obscuring the piercings from his view. chris grins, tilting his head to the side as he watches you move up his bed, settling a few feet away and grabbing your phone — you were absolutely going to tell the groupchat about this.

"i like 'em, by the way," you hear chris admit, and you pause, lifting your head in surprised. your eyebrows raise, and a shy smile threatens to spread across your lips at his unexpected compliment.

he nods slowly as he reaches for more rolling papers and a baggy of weed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before looking away.

"yeah.. like 'em a lot."

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #☆ fratboy!chris x shy!reader #★ ⋮ sturniolo hours !#★ ⋮ chris hours !

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chronicsyd · 21 hours ago

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ok I KNOW I'm spam posting at this point and I don't mean to but can we talk about the Ingeniousness of the "Appointing a General" scene and how Ambessa essentially cornered Caitlyn into this role?

Because despite what people are saying, Caitlyn did not skip up there like "Ohh power! Awesome! Gimme!", this is a decision that she was Forced to make (unlike if the role was given to say, Salo, because he was already starting to lift himself up, ready for Ambessa to give him his glory. He Wants power, he Craves it).

And you can see it from the Moment Ambessa calls out her name. The first emotion to appear is shock, clearly she wasn't expecting her name to be brought up. Wide eyed, she can see these families that Have Influence (because that's who Ambessa Specifically told Salo to bring) start to nod in approval, because like Salo said, the Kiramman name bewitches people, that's All it takes to get them to agree. She's taking rapid breaths as Ambessa and the Noxian soldiers start to pound their chests, her eyes are shaking, almost like she's about to have an anxiety attack with having the spotlight thrust upon her in such a way. She looks down, almost as if trying to ground herself.

But then she notices Maddie on her right, pounding her chest as well, smiling up at her. Which in turn, causes her fellow Enforcers to nod and start pounding their chests as well. Everyone Else in the room (with the exception of Salo) Wants this from her, they Expect her to "make the right choice", and it's at that point where saying "no" is no longer an option for her, not with the crisis they're dealing with, But more importantly, not with the Status of her Name. And she looks back up at Ambessa, making eye contact again. That's when she tells Caitlyn to "come, child."

In the way you watch Caitlyn walk up to her, her face is completely numb. she's not walking up there with a smile, her face shows almost no emotion at all. and when Ambessa leans in to swear her mother justice, she simply wears a blank stare, there's no look of anger or determination or anything, I'd say it looks like she's disassociating. what's also interesting is after Ambessa's done speaking and Caitlyn turns back around, there's no sound. the Enforcers and Noxian soldier's are still pounding their chests, you can see it, but you can't hear it, which as someone who disassociates a lot from anxiety is exactly what happens when you’re that overwhelmed. It remains silent as Caitlyn raises out her hand, Ambessa watching in anticipation, before the final sound is Caitlyn hitting her own chest, the wind whistling quietly behind her. but one thing to also bring up is specifically When she turns around, because her face does change, and that's apart of her looking like she's holding herself together that we've seen from her throughout the Entirety of this act. looking like she isn't bothered by this, that she's willing to accept this new responsibility placed on her shoulders. compare that to the look she was Just wearing, that face says more "resigned to my fate", she isn't being given a choice here, not really.

This entire thing is an internal struggle for her. Because yes, she still craves revenge against Jinx, but is THIS really the way she wants to go about it? Because despite what Caitlyn's done herself, she hasn't been thrown an Army and been Expected to lead a War against Zaun, this is entirely new territory that she's walking into. And now, she's no longer allowed to back down.

Ambessa using peer presser to get Caitlyn to do what she wants, what a Genius. and what an ASSHOLE (yes I’m pissed at Ambessa and can’t Wait for Caitlyn to rain hellfire down on her once she realizes what she’s pulled).

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #caitlyn kiramman #ambessa medarda #peer pressure #appointing a general #she’s a genius #and I’m scared for Caitlyn #league of legends #this scene is amazing #and people aren’t paying attention to it

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the-silver-peahen-residence · 2 hours ago

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Nobara was glad to see that Jub jub got Yuria back safetly to them so they were now in the elevator.

Akane who is growling pushes the button that will have them go to another level. The doors were closing as Bagan recovered and begins to reach them until the doors closed on him. Only shrieks and roars are heard from above as they descend. The three was hearing the noises from that floor before it was getting out of reach.

Yuria pants, "Thanks Hana." "No problem." Hana asked to where Yuria looked up and widened her eyes, "Wait...why are we going down?!"

"There is an exit down there...we can't go up, not with those things running around." Akane speaks, holding her bloody arm.

"Huh?! But our friends-"

"Listen, those...things or whatever they are seem to be roaming about. It's not safe for you three to be in there!" Akane said.

"But we can't leave our friends. They need our help!" Hana said worried.

"...Besides, you need help after that thing attacked you!" Nobara said seeing the blood but the Elevator keeps going down more and more floors.

"I know that and I get the feeling it would have eaten me if we stayed any longer!" she said back seeing they were now on the last level as the elevator dings opening the doors. It shows the outside or the back of the pizzaplex.

"Now come on...we can reach a police station a few steps from here. We can stop this.." Akane said starting to walk.

"....."

"What? Are you three okay? "she asked.

"We can't leave our friends Akane..we have to go back and help them!" Hana said.

Hana was scared but she was quickly helping with Akane while she was Nobara was doing the same. The girls were hearing more roars while Bagan tries to swipe at Yuria but it kept getting hit.

"Yuria!"

"JUST GO!! HURRY TO THE ELEVATOR!" she screams firing another one hitting one eye. It roars in pain from that but it held up one hand covering it's face but it seems something is dripping out from the hole. Nobara and Hana was helping Akane to the elevator while hearing groans of pain from her.

Bagan kept growling but Yuria glares still aiming at it but that's when she saw some light sparking to show the animatroic but showing something inside....a spirit maybe? It seems to look dead but it was missing a eye or was when they died. This made Yuria look nervous but she backs up while seeing Bagan crawling towards her now angry.

"Yuria! Come on!" Nobara said from the corner but Hana sets Jub job down.

"Jub job, help Yuria!" she said seeing him nod now growing in human adult size as it rushes to attack seeing it grab Yuria tight only to get punched in the face hard by Jub jub.

#IC #rp reply #short rp thread #silver roses #halloween mission start #fnaf inspired rp #jujutsu kaisen au #yuji itadori #the cursed vessel/jujutsu sorcerer of the damned #megumi fushiguro #shadow jutusu sorcerer/chimera snake #chunibyo-x-sorcerer

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decentwritings · 23 hours ago

Text

Prologue

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

next part

The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the dock. Waves lapped lazily against the wooden beams, the scent of salt and summer thick in the air. You lean against the railing, watching a group chatter and laugh in the distance. You often tell yourself to be more present, more focused, but your mind keeps drifting back to the stack of bills waiting at home, the weight of your father's memory heavy on your shoulders.

A ripple of laughter draws your attention back to the group, and your eyes settling on a short girl, bangs close to covering her eyes. From where you're standing, you can see the freckles on her cheeks, around her eyes. The sun is doing a great job of shining on them. The group comes to a stop at the edge of the deck, and she sets her bag down on the railing, carefully, flipping her hair back as she leans into the conversation. The way the light caught her face, the easy smile on her lips—something about her made your pulse quicken.

You just wanted to know her name. That's all you can ask for. She seems...magnetic, a bright spot in a world that has felt too dark for too long.

You lean against the deck's railing, clenching your jaw to have some self control. You have bigger things to think about than some girl. You can't go on and fall for the first cute girl who catches your eye, not with everything else hanging over you. The stack of bills at home, the weight of responsibility, and the promises you made to your family all tugged at the back of your mind, reminding you to stay focused.

But then you hear a clatter. The girl's bag—teetering on the edge of the railing—slips, toppling into the water below. The guy standing beside her grimaces, looking over the railing, watching the bag hit the surface of the water.

"Charlie!" she gasps, reaching out too late as her bag falls. She looks helpless, staring after it as if willing it to float back to her.

You watch for a moment as this Charlie apologizes profusely, staring as the bag sinks little by little. He doesn't move and you assume he doesn't have a plan on how to retrieve the bag.

You don't think, the plan in your head is quick and simple. You kick your shoes off and tug your shirt off, having prepared for a swim today anyway. The wetsuit hugs your body nicely, both comfortable and efficient. You're glad the military introduced you to it. You grip the railing and push yourself over it, sucking in a breath in time for you to hit the surface.

Just before you enter the water, you had heard someone shout; "Holy shit, she jumped!"

The water stings your eyes as you look around, but soon you find the bag sinking further and further down. You swim towards it, grateful for your years of training, every stroke powered by determination and urgency. The water surrounds you, a good mixture of cool and warmth, pushing you to move faster. You reach out, your fingers grazing the bag just as it begins to settle on the sandy bottom.

With a final push, you dive deeper, grasping the bag tightly. As you pull it back toward the surface, the weight of it pulls you down slightly, but you kick hard, breaking through the surface and gasping for air. The sunlight glimmers on the water around you as you make your way back to the dock, heart racing from both the swim and the thrill of doing something reckless.

You spit water out of your mouth as you surface, blinking back the drips of water from entering your eyes. On shore, you catch a glimpse of this Charlie guy kicking his shoes off and beginning to unbutton his shorts to enter the water.

You swim to shore, trying your best to avoid the bag from getting in the water anymore. When you reach land, you walk out and wipe the water from your face, shaking your head to get the water out of your ears.

"I was..." Charlie begins as you walk towards him, "gonna get it," he mumbles as you walk past him.

Mabel is down from the pier, friends behind right her; they all come to most likely watch the interaction. You exhale a breath, one you struggle to catch, at first because of the swim, but now, with Mabel up close, her presence makes it even harder to breathe.

You clear your throat and extend her soaked bag to her. She takes it with a laugh, squeezing the water out of it as best as she can.

"Thanks," she mumbles, eyeing her bag for a moment. "I'll see if I can save anything in here later. Mabel," she extends her hand towards you.

You take her hand, shaking it gently. "Y/N."

There's a moment of just you two holding hands, and you don't think much of it, given that she doesn't really react either. It isn't until Charlie clears his throat when you notice.

You blink out of your stupor, taking a tentative step back. "Anyway, um, steer clear of the deck. Those railings are definitely not sturdy," you point up at the pier, the deck's wooden railings chipping away little by little. "It was nice meeting you, Mabel...Charles–"

"Charlie," he corrects. Mabel's laugh can be heard underneath it.

"And others," you ignore him as you wave at the rest of the group. "Have a good night," you turn on your heels and make your way back up to grab your things.

"Hey, wait up," you hear as you bend down to grab your shoes. You glance over your shoulder and see Mabel jogging toward you. "We're heading to grab a bite to eat, you're welcome to come–as a proper thank you."

You weigh your options. On the one hand, you are very tempted to join them just to see more of her. There's something about Mabel that pulls you in, makes the heaviness of your day-to-day fade, even if only for a little while. But on the other hand, you know you have to keep your distance. You've got things to take care of, and getting too close to people, especially someone like her, could complicate everything.

You sigh, running a hand through your damp hair. "I appreciate the offer, really," you start, standing up and slinging your shirt over your shoulder. "But I've got some stuff to handle tonight." You lie.

Today was just a free day for you. You slept in, made yourself some brunch then came here to walk the beach twice. Now the sun is setting and you have to head home to cook yourself dinner. You may just order out though.

Mabel's expression falters for a second, but she quickly recovers, her smile never quite fading. "No worries, I get it. Maybe another time?"

You hesitate, glancing at the group waiting for her, then back to her expectant eyes. There's something hopeful in the way she looks at you, and for a moment, you almost change your mind.

"Yeah," you nod. "Maybe another time."

She grins, a small, genuine smile that lingers even as she turns to rejoin her friends. You watch her go, the sound of their laughter mixing with the crash of waves against the pier, and you can't help but feel like you've missed out on something. Something good.

Then, you think, you could save yourself some money by joining them. You turn and sigh, hurrying after them. You can't believe just the sound of this girl's laugh made you change your mind.

"Umm," you clear your throat, halting their movements. "I changed my mind. If you don't mind..." you wait for their response–her response.

Mabel nods. "Come on. It's not a far walk," she says with a smile. You smile back and follow, walking beside her and a conversation easily begins between the two of you.

Charlie raises an eyebrow but says nothing as Mabel leads the way. The group starts walking toward the nearby food spot, one you know of since you were a kid. The owner is a friend of the family since your dad made friends with everyone and their mother. You call him uncle.

Once you all enter, the familiar smell of grilled food and old wooden booths hits you, immediately bringing back memories of your father. You try to push them aside as you follow Mabel and the group to a large booth near the back of the restaurant. You hear the sizzling of the burgers and your stomach growls.

Focus on your hunger, not the memories, you think as you slide into the booth.

You settle in beside Mabel, and as the group chats around you, you can't help but feel a strange sense of belonging in this place. Even though you hadn't planned on it, this night is turning out to be more than just another routine evening. You hadn't been here since you came to visit that one time a few years back.

You were on leave and your dad insisted to come because it's practically tradition. It also helped that Rudy, the owner, gave you all free food when you came by. Veteran special, he said.

"So," Mabel turns to you, "you've been here before?"

You nod, glancing around. "Yeah, my dad used to bring me here when I was a kid. The owner, Rudy, is an old family friend." You tell her, taking the menu she offers you. You pretend to look, but you already know what you're going to order.

Hell, the waitress you see coming by knows what your order will be.

"Well, if it isn't our sergeant," Jodie, the waitress, who is also Rudy's wife, greets you. Your cheeks burn as you feel questioning glares on you. "With your own platoon this time–hi, how are you? I'm practically this little vet's Tia." She pinches your cheeks.

You chuckle nervously as Jodie pinches your cheeks, glancing around the table to see Mabel and the rest of the group watching the interaction with amused curiosity. "Hey, Tia Jodie," you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "Just, uh, grabbing a bite with some new friends."

Jodie beams at you, her eyes twinkling as she shifts her attention to Mabel. "Well, isn't that sweet! It's nice to see you making friends. Been worried you'd become a hermit with how often you're here solo."

All you can do is hum in response.

"I know your order," Jodie says then looks at the rest of them. "How about you guys? Need more time or are you ready to order?"

They all tell her they need more time, so she excuses herself to take care of the other customers. She sends you a knowing look, one you understand well.

While your family wasn't all that prideful about your military background, Rudy and Jodie were.

Rudy and Jodie had always been like an extra set of parents, beaming with pride over your accomplishments when your own family barely mentioned them. They were the ones who celebrated your milestones, threw you small parties when you came back from deployments, and made you feel seen in ways that sometimes your own parents and sister didn't.

You catch Jodie's knowing look as she walks away, and you can't help but feel a small pang of guilt. She's always looking out for you, and though she means well, the attention sometimes feels heavy. Especially now.

You wish your parents, especially your dad, at least acknowledged your accomplishments. You'd tell them about only in the presence of Rudy and Jodie, simply because you didn't like the awkward silences after you said it.

"So," Charlie speaks up, setting his menu down and looking directly at you. "You're military? I noticed the tattoo—didn't think it was for your dog tag."

You shift uncomfortably, tugging at your sleeve, the damp fabric resisting. "Yeah," you clear your throat, feeling the weight of his gaze. "But this tattoo is actually for my grandfather. He was the one who inspired me to enlist." You shrug, fingers tracing the ink, the colors still vibrant.

"What branch?" Nunes—one of Mabel's friends, as you recently learned—asks, leaning forward with interest.

"Army. Rangers," you reply, instinctively touching the necklace around your neck. The pendant was given to you after finishing training, a rare token of honor from your unit—a reminder of the brotherhood you forged during those years.

"Semper fi," Nunes says, raising a fist in solidarity.

You hum, a slight smile breaking through. "That's the Marines, but I appreciate the spirit."

The whole table bursts into laughter as Nunes frowns, realizing his mistake.

"Impressive," Costa, another friend of Mabel's, nods with newfound respect in his eyes. "Not many can say they've gone through that."

"I would've signed up for the military if I knew they handed out free jewelry," Charlie jokes, his tone oblivious to the weight in the air.

Anne-Marie, Costa's wife, from her husband's side, looks at him. "Have some sense, Char," she shakes her head. "She trained with the Rangers. She could kill you with one hand tied behind her back."

"That's for sure," your aunt returns, smiling at the chuckle that escapes your lips. You don't miss the grimace that crosses Charlie's face, amusing you more. Jodie looks between you all. "So, ready?"

You all place your orders before she disappears, but not before once again, sending you a knowing look. You offer her a smile in return, a little shy. She walks off to put in your orders, leaving you alone with the group.

The group returns to conversation, a different topic at hand now, which you're grateful for. You keep quiet, as always; by nature, and training, to just listen and observe.

You smile to yourself, finding comfort in their banter. There's something refreshing about being in a group where laughter flows so freely. It reminds you of the times you spent with your own friends, sharing dumb stories and letting the world slip away.

As you sit back, you catch Mabel glancing at you every so often, her expression lighting up whenever your eyes meet. There's a warmth in her smile that makes your chest tighten just a bit, a quiet flutter of anticipation stirring in you each time. It's subtle but unmistakable, like the start of something you're not sure you're ready for—but can't seem to ignore either.

The group dives into their meals with gusto, devouring their plates like they haven't eaten in days. You, on the other hand, take your time, savoring each bite like it might be your last. It's not just the food, though. There's something comforting about the familiar atmosphere of Rudy's place, the faint hum of conversation, the smell of the sea in the distance. It all feels like a moment you don't want to rush.

Jodie eventually returns, sliding the bill discreetly in front of you. You don't even need to open it to know what it says. When you do, the words "All covered" are scribbled at the bottom, the price conveniently blacked out. Typical.

You glance up just in time to catch Jodie winking at you before she heads off to tend to another table, and you can't help but roll your eyes with a smile. One of these days, you're going to get her to let you pay for a meal, but tonight is clearly not that night.

As you lean back in your chair, Mabel watches you, curiosity and something else dancing in her gaze. Maybe she senses there's more to you than you let on, or maybe she's just trying to figure you out, but either way, you can feel her drawing closer. And somehow, you don't mind.

You explain to them of the bill situation, and they argue that they should pay something. You tell them to leave a tip, and to hope she accepts it. Jodie can be stubborn.

You watch from a distance as they all sum up some cash to leave for Jodie. As the group pools together cash for the tip, you catch glimpses of their conversation, the light banter as they tease one another over how much to leave. Mabel's laughter rings out above the rest, and you can't help but smile to yourself. It's easy to see why people are drawn to her—there's a natural warmth and kindness that comes with her presence, something that makes you feel welcome, even when you don't expect it.

You stand in the corner, eyeing the frames on the wall; pictures of people with fishes or with wide smiles after a long day at sea. Rudy's place is filled with memories, the kind that tell stories of good days, hard work, and community. You've always admired that about this spot—how it feels like more than just a restaurant. It's a place where people come together, no matter the time or the situation.

Your eyes stop on a particular frame. It's one of your father with your mother, pregnant with you while your older sister is in his arms. It was clear it was after a week of being at sea, your sister's disgusted look on her face says it all. Your mother's eyes crinkle as she laughs while your father pouts.

You stare at the photo for a moment, lost in the nostalgia of a simpler time. It's a rare shot of your father looking carefree, something you don't see often in your memories. Back then, everything felt different. Simpler, maybe. Your sister's scrunched-up face, your mother's laugh—those are the small moments you didn't realize you'd cherish until they became memories.

Mabel's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Is that your family?" She's standing beside you now, her eyes following your gaze to the picture.

You nod. "Yeah. My dad used to take us all out after his fishing trips. That's my mom, and my sister when she was little."

Mabel tilts her head, taking in the scene. "You look a lot like your mom."

You glance at the picture again, and for the first time in a while, you can see the resemblance. "Yeah, I guess I do," you say quietly.

"Faro!"

You turn; the voice is instantly recognizable. Mabel follows your gaze to see an older man with a dirty apron around his neck, arms outstretched.

"Faro?" she asks quietly. You exhale, shaking your head a bit.

"Childhood nickname," you reply simply.

"Is it short for anything?" Mabel asks, curious. From the corner of your eye, you see Charlie, his curiosity even more apparent than hers.

"No, just Faro." You shrug, rubbing the back of your neck, suddenly nervous. Charlie blinks, and with his lack of reaction, you feel the need to explain. "It means 'lighthouse' in Spanish. My dad used to call me that..." Your voice fades as you remember your father saying you always helped him find his way home.

"Were you leaving without saying goodbye?"

A part of you didn’t want to see Rudy, partly because of that nickname he insists on using. To you, it's a reminder of what you’ve lost. But he says it like he doesn’t know what you’ve been up to, like he’s unaware of how far you've fallen from the person your father once saw in you. It’s why you’ve avoided the diner these past few months. You know he knows. You just can’t handle a speech—a reprimand for your choices.

"Hey, Tio," you say, then give Mabel an apologetic look. You realize you haven't had the time to really talk to her. But you excuse yourself anyway, hoping to have this inevitable talk in private.

Mabel watches you go, her curiosity about you only increasing, but she doesn't follow. She wonders how you grew up here, yet she's never seen or heard of you before. In a town like this, everyone tends to know everyone. Secrets rarely stay hidden, and stories travel fast. Hell, everyone got word of Weeks death the second it happened. Her acceptance to college also spread like wildfire, her mother trying to feed off her before she went off to college.

But you? You're an enigma, someone who seems to have roots in the community but remains on the outskirts, just out of reach.

As she listens to the light banter from the rest of the group, Mabel's mind drifts back to the way Rudy greeted you—the familiarity, the warmth, and the concern. There's clearly a deeper connection there, something important that ties you to this place.

Instead, she nods and turns back to join the group, giving you space to handle the situation with Rudy.

You walk over to him, feeling the weight of his gaze as you approach. His arms are still outstretched, but there's a seriousness in his eyes, one that tells you this conversation won't be easy. Rudy wraps you in a tight hug, his apron still smelling faintly of seafood and the sea breeze, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into the comfort of it.

He hugs you tightly, patting your back twice before gently pulling back to look at you. You hope he doesn't see it. The faint outline of a bruise that is healing on your left cheek. A trained eye can see it; and Rudy had a very well trained eye.

If he does see it, he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he smiles and pats your shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here," he says, then glances over your shoulder. "With friends. I always said you needed friends who weren't military," he chuckles.

You glance back, eyes finding Mabel the instant you do. She meets your eyes for a second before you turn back, feeling caught. "I just ran into them. They invited me to join them," you shrug, not making a big deal of it.

Rudy nods, though his smile falters for a brief second, sensing there's more you're not saying. He's always been good at reading between the lines. His hand stays on your shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "Well, I'm still glad you're here," he repeats, his tone softening. "This place... it misses you, you know?"

You look away, avoiding his gaze. "I've been busy, trying to make ends meet," you tell him.

"Right. Busy getting yourself into trouble, huh?" Rudy's voice remains light, but the weight of his words settles between you. He may not say it outright, but he knows more than you want to admit.

You've been back in town for a year and a half now, and he knows of your back and forth of wanting to be with family while helping them pay bills. Your father's death took a toll on you in a way you hadn't expected–his added debt didn't help matters, either. You didn't take time to grieve, you went straight to getting jobs to pay off your father's stupid debts.

You try to laugh it off, but it sounds hollow even to your ears. "Just trying to stay afloat."

Rudy raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your attempt to downplay it. "Staying afloat shouldn't mean drowning yourself in other people's problems," he says, his voice still kind but firm. "You've got your own life to live, Faro. Don't forget that."

You look down, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle back on your shoulders. "I can't just ignore it, though. I have to help," you instinctively reach for your necklace, a habit you picked up. "It gets back to my mom–I won't be able to live with myself."

A look of understanding crosses his face. "Okay," he places his hand on your shoulder again, pointing a stern finger at you now. "You come to me if things get bad, entendiste?"

You nod, grateful as always for his support. It feels heavy, but it's nice to know you have it. "Understood," you say, smiling as best as you can.

"Go on," Rudy tells you, nodding. "That girl you've been eyeing sucks at hiding her staring."

You can't help but let out a soft chuckle at Rudy's remark, glancing back toward where Mabel is still with the others. She quickly looks away, pretending to be focused on the conversation, but you catch the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"She's not staring," you say, trying to sound casual, but Rudy just gives you a knowing look.

"Right," he chuckles himself, then crosses his arms. "You always liked competition, so I think you should know the short haired one hasn't stopped staring at her either."

You sigh, the weight of Rudy's words settling in. Charlie's interest in Mabel was obvious, and while Rudy might joke about it being a competition, you didn't see it that way. You weren't interested in chasing after someone like she was a trophy to be won.

Your father's lesson echoed in your mind—a woman is never a prize. He always made sure you and your sister understood that respect came first, especially when it came to relationships. To him, love wasn't about winning; it was about mutual respect, honesty, and a real connection.

"I'm not here to compete, Tio," you say, shaking your head. "If she's interested in him, that's her choice."

Rudy nods, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "You're right, of course. But sometimes, it's not about competing. Sometimes it's just about letting her see who you really are."

You take in his words as you glance back at Mabel, her laughter ringing out as Charlie says something to the group. She catches your eye once more, and this time, there's no pretending not to notice. Maybe Rudy's right—maybe it's just about being yourself and seeing what happens next.

You shake your head. You are not looking for a relationship. It's the last thing you need right now. You decide not to comment on his words and simply tell him thanks again. He pulls you in for a longer hug than before than orders you to make friends.

You're unable to find words to say back to that so you walk off with a head shake, smiling despite yourself. The group, surprisingly, was waiting on you to leave. You thank them, smiling as you follow behind them.

The question of what's next hovers on the tip of your tongue, but Nunes seems to have the same thought.

"Where we going?" he asks, his eyebrows drawn together as he walks a step ahead while you linger behind.

You’re grateful Nunes voiced it before you had to. The last thing you want is to be pulled into a conversation with Mabel while your mind is still racing with Rudy's words. You already see Charlie making his move, staying close to her, clearly angling to steer the conversation in his favor. The idea of stepping into that dynamic feels uneasy.

"So, what’s the Army Rangers’ motto again?" Nunes asks, catching you off guard as he suddenly appears by your side. He shrugs sheepishly. "Just so I don’t put my foot in my mouth next time."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Rangers lead the way,” you say, feeling a sense of pride in the words that goes deeper than you expected.

Nunes nods, repeating it under his breath like he’s committing it to memory. “Got it. Rangers lead the way.” He picks up his speed and shouts at the others. "Hey, guys! I figured it out!"

You let out another chuckle, staying a few steps behind, keeping your distance, hoping to avoid any potential awkwardness. Mabel glances over her shoulder at you, as if she can sense the space you're putting between yourself and the rest of the group. There's a flicker of something in her eyes but she doesn't press you, turning her attention back to Charlie.

Costa turns around, noticing your lingering pace. "You coming, or you planning to walk the whole way back like a ghost?" he jokes, smirking.

You let out a short laugh, shaking off the tension. "Just taking in the scenery, man," you reply, speeding up just enough to not seem distant but still giving yourself enough space.

Truth is, you're not entirely sure what's next. You weren't even supposed to be part of this group in the first place, but here you are, tagging along, wondering where this road will lead you—literally and figuratively.

The scenery is nothing new, one you see everyday on your morning walk to the beach and back. You can't help it, old habits die hard. Your dad got a house walking distance from the piers mostly to avoid driving to work but also because he didn't want to be far if anything were to happen.

It also made it easy for him to just walk home, shower then sleep in his own bed.

What is new, is Mabel. The sound of her laugh, her smile and the way her presence draws you in without even trying. She's unlike anyone you've come across in a long time—bright, carefree, but with a depth you can sense just beneath the surface. She has this...you can't really explain it, but you want to find it what "this" is. You've caught glimpses of it in the way she listens to the people around her, in how her eyes soften when someone mentions something meaningful. She's got a story, just like everyone else and you want to know it.

In a town like this, everyone knows everyone's story. Everyone's background. Yet, the distance you created with this town the moment you discovered your father's dark truth, you stopped listening to the constant chatter and rumors this small town discusses.

You've learned to tune out the noise, the way people gossip and speculate about each other's lives. Especially with the rumors of your father's truths. The once kind and gentle girl-dad now a turned drug runner to pay off his gambling debt? Yeah, you stopped listening the moment you found out the rumors you may hear are more than often true. It's how you've survived, by keeping a low profile and focusing on your own problems. Your father did everything to keep your family's business low profile too. Until he made a deal with the wrong person.

But now, with Mabel, you find yourself wanting to listen again. To understand her story, not because of what others might say, but because you genuinely want to hear it from her.

The mystery surrounding her is different, not the kind that spreads through whispers but the kind that makes you curious—curious about what she's been through, what makes her laugh the way she does, and what's hiding behind those moments when her smile falters, even if only for a second. Her friendships. Her family.

But you remind yourself, as you walk along the familiar streets, that this isn't the time to get wrapped up in someone else. You've got enough on your plate—debts, responsibilities, and the pressure of trying to stay afloat. Still, there's something about her that makes it hard to shake the thought.

As the group continues walking, Charlie makes a joke that has everyone laughing, including Mabel. You think, she's an innocent, kind and beautiful soul. And this is just from a few hours with her.

What will trying to be just her friend do to that innocence, to that kindness and beauty of her soul?

You'll ruin it. Just like your father did with your family. So, you remember your training, and do what you do best.

When Mabel glances over her shoulder to look for you, you're gone. So is the smile she had all night just by simply being in your presence.

~~~~

Note: bear with me, I had a clear picture as to how I wanted this story to end but it changed like three times already. my brain is coming up with a new idea every time I proofread the chapters I have done so updates will be very slow.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #lighthouse #mabel (finestkind) x reader #mabel (finestkind)#finestkind

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yuckiemouth · 2 days ago

Note

Ugh I miss u sex with Riki bro like him coming home from tour I’m frustrated

“I Missed You So Much”

“did you think of me every-time you masturbated in your dorm?”

After their ‘WALK THE LINE’ tour, ENHYPEN finally got the chance to fly overseas to reunite with their friends and family. Although the experience was exhausting yet enjoyable for all seven members, they could finally relax—at least until they navigate through the throngs of enthusiastic fans and paparazzi. The pushing, shoving, screams, and tears were finally behind them as they settled into their first-class seats—something they could now afford, escaping the usual chaos of being followed even in the air. Riki sat at the very back by the window, headphones over his ears, resting his head on a neck pillow as he settled in for some much-needed rest. A soft ding interrupted his music. Riki glanced down, picking up his phone from his lap. A message from Y/N, his secret girlfriend back in Japan, lit up the screen. It read: “I can’t wait to see u ❤️.”

A warm smile spread across Riki's face as he read Y/N's sweet text. He quickly typed out a reply, "Me too, baby. Can't wait to hold you again." His thumbs hovered over the send button, but then he hesitated. Better not risk getting caught by the others, especially Jake who always seemed to snoop around his phone. Riki deleted the message and replaced it with a more innocent one: "Miss you already! See you soon!" Satisfied, he hit send before putting his phone away and sinking deeper into his seat, letting the gentle hum of the plane lull him towards sleep once more.

His phone dinged again and Riki’s 100% sure Jake would’ve twisted his head and asked “who’s texting you so much?”, but luckily he was slumped next to the seats beside him with his mouth agape. Riki chuckled before snapping a pic, preparing to use it for blackmail. He quickly checked Y/N’s message and it read: view picture. He dubiously viewed the picture and he inaudibly gasped. Y/N’s shirt was lifted with her perky titties in frame with the letters blocking her nipples like a tease. “I really need you.” Riki felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at the provocative photo, his eyes lingering on Y/N's tantalizing cleavage. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan. Damn, she knew just how to make him ache for her. He couldn't wait to get his hands on those perfect tits again, to taste her skin and hear her breathy pleas for more.

With a smirk, Riki typed out a response, keeping his words light and playful to avoid arousing suspicion. "Mmm, I really do need you too, baby. But we have a few hours till we land. Why don't you play with yourself while thinking about me?" He attached another sultry selfie of himself lounging comfortably, his bulge barely concealed beneath his pants. "Get me hard for our reunion." Riki let out a low chuckle, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair in anticipation. His mind wandered to their last encounter, the way she'd writhed beneath him, crying out his name as he pounded into her tight little pussy. The memory alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside his pants. With a sigh, he decided to drift off with that thought.

As Riki approached Y/N's apartment building, a sense of relief washed over him. Being surrounded by his loving family had been wonderful, but there was no denying that he craved the intimacy and passion he shared with Y/N. He quickened his pace, his heart racing with anticipation as he climbed the stairs to her door. Taking a deep breath, Riki knocked softly, hoping she wouldn't keep him waiting. When the door swung open, he was greeted by Y/N's radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with adoration. Without a word, Riki pulled her into his arms, claiming her lips in a searing kiss filled with pent-up desire. He needed her, wanted her, and nothing else mattered in that moment. Riki shoved her back into the apartment with the wet kiss, pushing the door back close with a soft kick.

Riki's hands roamed over Y/N's curves as he backed her against the wall, breaking the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat. He nipped and sucked at her sensitive skin, leaving a path of love bites in his wake. "Missed you so fucking much," Riki growled against her ear, his voice husky with lust. He ground his hips against hers, the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against her belly. "Need to be inside you, Y/N. Now." Without waiting for a response, Riki scooped her up into his strong arms, carrying her towards the bedroom as he devoured her mouth once more. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in their desperate hunger for each other. Riki laid Y/N gently on the bed, his hands roaming her body as he kissed a fiery trail down her chest. He paused to worship her breasts, sucking and nibbling at her pert nipples until they pebbled under his attention. Y/N arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she gasped and whimpered with pleasure.

"Please, Riki," she panted, her hips bucking upwards in search of friction. "I'm so wet for you. Fill me up, baby." He grinned against her skin, his cock throbbing with need. He slid down her body, kissing and licking a path to her dripping core. "Oh, I plan to," he murmured, burying his face between her thighs and inhaling deeply. "Fuck, you smell incredible." He left one last kiss on her inner thigh before adjusting himself between her thighs.

His rigid erection brushing against her slick folds. He looked up at her, his dark eyes smoldering with raw desire. "Fuck, I’ve missed you, Y/N," he urged, his voice thick with lust. "Hmm, this wet pussy," Y/N's breath hitched, her gaze locked onto Riki's as she reached down to guide him to her entrance. "I want you to fuck me hard," she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "Make me scream your name until my throat is raw." Riki groaned, his control slipping at her bold demand. With a swift thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, stretching her walls deliciously around his thickness. "Oh, fuck yes," his eyes rolled as he began thrusting into her tightness. Her mouth falls agape with desperate pleas escaping her short breath. “Uh huh, yeah, fuck me harder,” she nodded, encouraging him to go faster.

Riki gripped Y/N's hips tightly, pounding into her with reckless abandon as he chased his impending release. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking his cock with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin and their ragged breathing filled the room, creating a primal symphony of lust. "You're so damn tight," Riki grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he drove deeper. "Take all of me, baby. Every inch." Y/N's cries grew louder, her nails digging into his arms as she teetered on the edge. "Riki! Oh god, Riki!" she wailed, her body tensing beneath him. With one final, brutal stroke, Riki felt Y/N convulse around him, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.

Riki's climax hit him like a freight train, his vision blurring as he spilled himself deep within Y/N's spasming heat. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy breaths mingling with hers as they both rode out the aftershocks. He rolled off her, pulling her close as they lay entwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Riki pressed a soft kiss to her temple, feeling content and sated in a way that only Y/N could provide.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #nishimura riki #riki nishimura x reader #enhypen niki #ni ki #riki x reader #enhypen riki #kpop smut #fanfic #smut prompts

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the-froschamethyst4 · 1 day ago

Text

Chef! Ghost

————

Chef! Ghost Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

————

SFW

Chef!Ghost who works in a 3 star Michelin Star restaurant and co-owns it

Chef!Ghost was just like Carmen Berzatto from The Bear. Watching YouTube videos on cooking perfect meals and being so precise and accurate with his cooking

Chef!Ghost who gets a bit attached and attracted to one of the waitresses

Chef!Ghost who yells at everyone else including his cooks but is extremely nice to his favorite waitress

"I NEED HANDS! WHERE ARE MY WAITERS!!?" He yells from the kitchen. Some of the customers all looked at the kitchen hearing him yell, waiters and waitresses excuse their selves to head to the back.

"Sorry, had a table that wouldn't let me leave, I was on my way, I promise," she says, coming into the back where he just apologized to her for being loud and rude.

"Yeah, same here," a waiter comes in.

"I EXPECT MORE FROM YOU, YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR A YEAR AND STILL CAN'T GET A SIMPLE TICKET ORDER RIGHT!!" He yells.

"SHE'S BEEN HERE LONGER THAN ME!" Pointing to Y/n. She just shrugs and heads out.

Chef!Ghost who starts on desserts a bit early, but really he was making it for his favorite waitress.

"I'm looking for my order for table 5?" She comes in asking. "It's been close to 30 minutes," she says. "I thought the ticket times were good?"

"Ask him," Soap points to Simon over his shoulder, who was leaned over the dessert, he noticed Y/n and brought it over to her.

"Sorry for the slow time," he says. He grabs a to-go box and placed it inside and hands it to her. "For your lunch break." He says.

"Thank you...I still need that chicken alfredo for my table."

"It's coming," he says waiting for her to leave. "HEY I NEED THAT FUCKING CHICKEN ALFREDO, WHERE THE HELL IS IT!!?" He yells like his normal self.

Chef!Ghost who liked closing nights, cause sometimes Y/n has to close, Y/n always picked up night shifts cause she liked them, it was surprisingly slow at nights versus the morning or afternoon.

She wipes the tables down and moves the chairs to be on top of the tables, refilling the salt and pepper shakes as she cleans around. She rolls some silverware for the morning people.

"Your here late." Ghost says coming into the main dinning hall.

"I'm just cleaning up."

"Where's Henry?"

"He left early, so it's just me," she says.

"Did you...eat the dessert?"

"I didn't have time to, I didn't even get a break because I was running around doing things, and couldn't get a break," she says.

"Well, it looks like you're done now...want to...eat it?" He asks.

"Now?" She giggles at him.

"Why not? We can clean where we ate."

NSFW

Chef!Ghost who clears off a space in the kitchen, to place Y/n on top of. Spreading her legs, kissing her lips and moving down to her inner thighs. The plus about working here is that waitress were in skirts, honestly easy accuses

Chef!Ghost who now wants to close almost everyday just to be able to have you when no one is around

Chef!Ghost who has pulled Y/n into the walk-in for a quicky, locking it behind them and yelling at anyone who knocks to bother them

Chef!Ghost who likes to wait at the back door for you when you're done with your shift just to take you to the car and have his way with you in his car

Chef!Ghost who makes your favorite lunch and you two eat in the office with the door closed and Simon likes to have his dessert on his desk, her legs spread and seeing his favorite cream on the desk

Chef!Ghost who's birthday was coming up soon, the kitchen was already prepare for the Chef's birthday, but Y/n had came to his home for his early birthday gift

"Hi, my love," he says.

"Happy Birthday." After that small interaction, Y/n was in control with what happened next, her being on top of him with whipped cream on her chest with it slightly falling with the slight bounce. Simon was just a happy chef.

Chef!Ghost who loves your boobs and he makes subtle hints about it. Making desserts and putting cherries on them. When you two are alone he likes to tease you by moving the neck of your shirt to look down.

"Really?"

"I want to see them," he teases.

Chef!Ghost who makes it clear now that you're his, going up behind you during morning meetings and mess with your small apron around your waist, untying it and retying it how he likes it.

Touching your waist to move you out of the way, and gently speaking to you

Never raising his voice at you for any reason

Chef!Ghost when it's Halloween he gets a sneak peak of your custom before going into work

"I like it...the top though?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's a little low. Only I...can see these beauty's," he says making his way to your chest cupping your boobs and kissing between them

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agent--shadow · 17 hours ago

Text

After a few minutes Kai's mouth starts to bleed, but it's the most desaturated and gray looking blood the nurse has ever seen. Kai's jerky movements and thrashing calm down, only for his eyes roll back into his head before he finally goes limp on the hospital bed.

****

Kai wakes up in a dark space, black as far as the eye can see. If there were other structures besides the floor beneath him, they were shrouded in black fog.

Green eyes pierce through the darkness as they zoom towards him, leaving ribbons of green light in its trail. It stops merely inches before Kai's face, letting out an ear piercing shriek that rattles the air, though Kai doesn't flinch. He just stares the awful creature down in its beady bright eyes, just like he had night after night, though he thought he'd escaped it in that forest, looks like it was back for vengeance.

The screech dies in the air after a few seconds, and the creature pulls away, revealing a hovering reflection of himself in every worst way. The creature wears his old uniform, except now it glittered and shone in the non-existent light, golden spikes protruding from each shoulder, green at the tips- which were deathly sharp.

Its eyes glowed green with black bleeding pupils, and the sharp ragged claws that replaced its fingers dripped with blood. Its face was curved in disappoint when he didn't show the fear in his heart on his face.

Its voice was glitchy and distorted, disturbing inhuman. "Come now... I'm getting bored." It floats closer to Kai, but he backs away, not breaking eye contact.

"I don't care. Leave! I won't play your games!" He tries to keep his voice steady, and devoid of the thousands of anxieties clawing at his heart.

The creature locks its hands and puts them to its face in mock sympathy, "Awwww, you're no fun. Do we have to go through the scenes again?"

Kai shivers at the mention, and his eyes go wide with fear, please, not again. But he shakes himself out of it, directing his fear into anger, anger at the creature in front of him that had taken everything he once held dear.

"I'm not afraid of you! You can't use me anymore!"

"Oh but you are. And I can. It'll just take a little more... Convincing..."

Before he knows it, Kai is back in his parents truck as they give him a sheet to wrap himself in before they cross the border, to blend in, to hope that nobody notices, to save their only honorable child. Kai looks around, Lilac isn't anywhere to be seen. "Wait!" He cries out, "she's not here! We can't leave!"

His father glares at him, "Be quiet or we'll never leave." And his mother tried to give him a sympathetic look, though it's clear she's not fairing too well either. "It's... For the best." She looks at the dirt, not daring to meet her son's eyes, already filled with tears. She doesn't dare even think about running back, grabbing their little girl and embracing her in her arms, lest their father find out and send them both back to the shambles of their house. She's ashamed of her fear, how can she call herself a mother if she leaves her child in the dust? How could she go on to respect this horrible husk of a human being who can't even stand up for her own daughter?

The door is slammed shut and Kai stares out the window, searching for any sign of his sister, his only real family. Just as the car starts up he spots a speck of purple over the horizon, curled up in a painfully peaceful ball near the dumpster. "LILAC!!!" He screams with tears welling up in his eyes, hoping she'd hear, hoping she'd come running back, come running into his arms so he could carry her far away from everything.

But she doesn't. They drive away until Kai can't make out anything but the horizon where she once lay. He calls out again, but his father rolls up the window with anger in his voice. "SHUT IT BOY!"

Kai sinks into his seat, tears streaming down his cheeks as he curls up violently, shutting his eyes so tight it hurts. Hoping that any second now he'd wake up, he'd wake up from this awful nightmare. He'd wake up in a soft bed in a warm house, with both his sisters in the kitchen messing around with all the spare food.

Instead he was wrapped in a dirty sheet hiding under the seat of his parents car, silently making a promise to his sister that he would find her again.

He never wanted it to be like this.

His vision dissolved to black as his sobs faded into obscurity, and were replaced with the hustle and bustle of the night market in the city his parents moved to. He shook off the dizziness blurring his vision looked around, seeing people in Zoraxis uniforms with wicked grins directed at him. He finally looked straight in front of him, and his nearly jumped into his throat.

There she was. With his knife deep within her shoulder. Staring up at him with those big innocent eyes, except now they were tainted with hurt, and worst of all, fear. His own sister looked at him the same way you would look at a bear before it tore you limb from limb. The sight made him sick, made him want to vomit out every horrible thing inside him until there was nothing left.

Stinging years dripped down his face as he lunged to protect what we left of his family, but it all turned to smoke. He stumbled back into the black room of fog, and looked at his shaking hands, they were covered in blood.

He cries out in anguish, covering his ears, balling up on the floor, trying to tell himself that it wasn't real, it was just a reenactment, Lilac was just across the hall, she's safe she's okay. But it wasn't enough, her terrified eyes burned a hole through his soul, leaving gaping wide holes that he still couldn't mend.

"Oh don't be so sad. You never deserved her anyways." The creature then mimicked his mom's voice, "It's... For the best." But with a sickening contorted grin on its face.

"Oh! I nearly forgot. We've added a new scene to our play recently."

A blinding light flashes before his eyes as the room starts to shift into the cavern a few days ago, the blinding light overwhelming him almost as much as the noise from the battle. Rocks fell every which way as the cavern began to collapse. He shook the dizziness from his vision once more and saw the sonic whip in his hands, crystals shattered on the dirt floor, just the like cavern would be in a few moments.

He darts around, looking for somewhere, anywhere to hide away, to protect what little was left of himself, but no such crevice lends itself to him as he desperately scrambles through the falling rubble.

He clings to the side of the rock, pulling himself up the cliff with every ounce of strength left in his body. He sees a figure above him scaling the cliff, and she turns towards him. It's Wraith, and her leg is covered in blood. The same blood on his hands. The same hands that are about to let go for good.

****

Kai is unconscious, not even moving. Almost deathly still save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He will not wake up, or even respond, no matter what the nurse tries. It is all in his head. It is all in his head.

Questioning and Revelations

After some medical attention, Kai (@agent--shadow) finds himself inside one of the agency's interrogation rooms. Several signal blockers have been set up, cutting him off from any outside communication.

Handler Ellie walks in the room, her eyes cold and strict. She puts down an analog recorder, several digital microphones and cameras have littered the room.

"I would appreciate it if you would cooperate with this questioning, young man." Despite her words implying it was a request, her tone was clearly implying that it wasn't an option to be uncooperative.

She checks her watch, checking the time. If her guess is right, Handler Blue (@blueorchid-95) will arrive in half an hour. She would've heard about Kai's location around this time and once she hears about this, it would not be pretty.

#so #I've been possessed again #you are very welcome for the angst #yes i am crying #somebody give this poor guy a hug

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peppermintquartz · 1 day ago

Note

hii could you write something about when tommy and buck meet at madney's wedding, but this time tommy comes as chim's friend instead of buck's date. maybe it’s a year after the breakup since maddie wanted to wait to have the wedding until after she gave birth. maybe in this scenario buck and tommy are on good terms (or not? for more angst? it's up to you) and one of them asks the other to dance? honestly, I just want to see them dance😭 thank you! 💖

I tweaked the prompt slightly because there's a special party for the first birthdays of a Korean baby, and I thought it'd be sweet to celebrate that culture

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Doljanchi

---

The music is cheerful and everyone is in high spirits. Buck is moving around the party, taking the opportunity to top up the trays of pastries and snacks while baby Joon-ki is propped on his little 'throne', dressed in an adorable green hanbok, after he finally woke up from his afternoon nap.

Everyone is waiting to take photos with him, and so no one is really looking at the door. Buck is counting the number of eclairs and thinking if he will need to run out for something when he hears someone clearing their throat softly.

"Buck."

Buck stands and turns around, heart involuntarily skipping a beat. He knows Tommy has been invited - Chimney told him - but seeing his ex in the flesh is still startling. Tommy's in a navy blue sports jacket and a pale gray polo over those jeans that hug his thighs.

"Tommy," Buck says, smiling politely. They've bumped into each other a handful of times since the breakup, and each time it was awkward, but they have not really had the opportunity to talk to each other, except for brief hellos and goodbyes.

Buck has found time to 'explore his options' since then. Men and women. Dated two other guys, never for more than four months. And he took the time to really think about which part of the rainbow he belonged to - he hadn't done that while he was with Tommy, because he thought it didn't matter, he had his boyfriend and that was enough for him - but then he went on a learning binge after.

He still thinks Tommy's statement about protecting his own heart is bullshit.

Tommy hands him a wrapped box. "For, uh, for the baby."

Buck takes it and tucks it under his arm. "Thanks. Help yourself to the food. I'll, uh, I'll get you a drink."

"Okay. Thanks."

It's so stilted and tense between them. Buck hates it. Fleeing to the kitchen, he digs out a bottle of the beer Tommy prefers. (He knows Tommy is going to be here. He's helping Maddie and Chim be good hosts. That's all.)

When he gets back to the living room where Joon-ki is holding court, surrounded by two sets of doting grandparents, he can't find Tommy. Part of him thinks that Tommy's gone again, too much of a coward to stay and pretend they can be friends.

And the other part of him wishes he can let it go already.

Then he spies Tommy kneeling on the floor in the corner where Jee Yun is, her little face pink and her lips pouting. Tommy has another wrapped box and he's giving it to her with a flourish, and she beams at him and hugs him around the neck.

She liked him, Buck remembers.

After the girl runs back to the table where her little brother is perched, Buck goes to Tommy and offers him a hand to stand up. Tommy glances at him, startled, and takes the assistance.

"Here," Buck passes him the beer. He checks his watch. "They're gonna do the doljabi in about five minutes."

"The what-bee?"

"Doljabi. It's some fortune-telling game. Supposed to tell what the baby's gonna be when he grows up."

Tommy stays for the game, stays to shake Maddie's hand and to give Chimney a hug, to take photos with Jee-yun and Joon-ki.

He stays late enough for dinner - the Lees supplied them with a dazzling assortment of Korean dishes - and it almost feels friendly, a few jokes traded around the adults while the kids have their own fun.

Baby Joon-ki is already in his cot, and Buck takes a moment to watch over his sleeping nephew. Then a shadow blocks the light from the hall.

"Hey," says Tommy softly.

"Hey." Buck smiles at him, genuine now. Tommy comes into the room when Buck inclines his head in invitation. "Kid's wiped out."

"It's been pretty momentous." Tommy slips his hands into his pockets. "Adorable kid though."

They stand side by side, watching the baby, and music filters into the room. For a moment, Buck could almost believe this is my child, this is my husband.

"How have you been?" Buck asks. "Anyone new in your life?"

Tommy shakes his head. "Haven't had time." He takes a deep breath. "I heard from Eddie that you, uh, you broke up with that lifeguard. Jay?"

"Ray," says Buck. Then he licks his lips. "We never did dance at Maddie's wedding. Can I ask you for one?"

"Now?"

Buck holds up a hand and tilts his head, a small flutter of a smile on his lips. "Now."

For a heartbeat, Tommy looks like he wants to refuse. Then he exhales and takes Buck's hand, accepts the other hand at his waist.

As they sway to the music, Buck looks directly at Tommy. It helps that they are of the same height. "I miss you. It's been over a year, and I still miss you."

Tommy blinks at him, perhaps surprised at the confession. His answering smile is small and tentative. "Yeah, me too."

"Can we try again?" Buck asks, still swaying slowly, guiding them in a small circle around the baby's room. "You can't say that I don't know what I want now. I've done my exploring. I've done my learning. And I am more than ever certain that you are who I want to be my last."

"I want to try again," Tommy replies, equally quietly, reverently. "I went to therapy again, unpacked... unpacked a lot of the shit I said that night. It was unfair to you."

"Not entirely untrue though."

"I wouldn't know." Tommy pauses, and then adds, "I'd like to find out."

Buck smiles. He feels lighter, clearer than he has for a long time. "So... you'll call me Evan again?"

Tommy sighs, smiles back. "I never stopped thinking of you as Evan. I'm sorry I ran."

"Good. Be sorry." Buck cradles Tommy's cheek and draws him in. "We'll try again. No more running, okay? Rough times, or if either of us do something stupid, we talk it out. Promise me that."

"Of course."

#tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 1 day ago

Text

Unforgettable (first kiss)

Azriel x OC

Word count: +5500

Summary: Who would think that a family dinner could turn into a reunion with female from the bookstore? However, certain members of his family treat her poorly and she ends up running away. Azriel can't forget her though and wants to see her again

Warnings: some cursing, IC having some issues and behaving unpleasantly

@azrielappreciationweek Day 5: No need for poetry Kinda part 2 of Unforgivable (sins), but can be read separately Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Azriel landed on lawn near entrance of the River House. It was already dark, but night was warm and smelled of cool river that flew behind the house and sweet magnolia. The smell of roast meat and apple pie wafted from the open kitchen window, reminding him that he hadn't eaten from the morning, and mixed with the smell of coming summer.

Trying to look at least a bit presentable, he ran his fingers through thick dark hair, brushing it back. The shadows already informed him that there's an unknown face in the house. He was exhausted and not in mood to meet someone new, but he already promised he would come for the dinner and the game night his family had every Friday.

Sighing heavily, he slipped into the building like a ghost, unnoticed. Everyone seemed to be already gathered in the dinning room, sounds of conversation and laughter echoed in otherwise quiet house. A paper bag from his favourite bookstore left in the entrance hall immediately caught his attention. As a spymaster he couldn't help it and peeked in. The familiar covers of books he had read, aroused his interest. Azriel assumed that the bag had to belong to the guest because his family usually didn't leave their stuff by doors. This piqued his interest in the mysterious newcomer.

He checked his face in the mirror, correcting his posture and glamouring the dark circles under his eyes. If possible, he wanted to avoid any questions about his wellbeing or comments full of worry. He already felt like shit and didn't want to dwell on it. He suddenly noticed the absence of his usual companions who loved to inform him about any insignificant details. Looking down the hallway, he found them peeking into the dinning room, pushing each other to get a better view.

He just rolled his eyes and got ready for the welcoming and his least favourite part - introduction.

His long legs quietly carried him to the threshold of the room. Everyone was already seated around the big table that buckled under the delicious-looking dishes, undoubtedly the work of the middle Archeron sister who smiling sat next to her mate. Azriel frowned at the sight. Nobody told him that Lucien was invited, too.

Rhysand, sitting at the head of the table, noticed him as first.

"Ah, finally here," he greeted him with his usual cocky grin. "We've been waiting for you."

"You could have started without me," Azriel retorted and quickly walked over to the only empty seat. He hated to be in the center of attention.

"When did you return? I didn't hear you go to your room," Cassian bawled from the other side of table.

"I found what I looked for this morning, but I had work to do in Hewn City." He didn't need to add more details. His friends already knew what kind of job he did there. Azriel's insides twisted at the memory, but he buried that feeling deep inside where no one could see it.

"By the way, Helion thanks you for the help," he turned to Rhysand who only nodded.

"I'll write him later. How did it go?"

Before Azriel could say anything, Feyre sighed at Rhys' side. "Boys, could you forget about the work at least for a moment? We have a guest tonight."

"Sure, Feyre darling," Rhys smiled at her and caressed her cheek. "I'm sorry. We'll discuss the details later."

"Azriel, let me introduce you my friend from Rainbow and fellow artist, Blaire. She came from Autumn court not so long ago and currently, she's slowly settling in our city and her new life."

Azriel looked to his left, in the direction Feyre showed. To his shame, he was in such hurry to get rid of all the prying eyes that he hadn't noticed that the unknown female sat right beside him.

He tried to smile down at small female with long dark brown hair. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Azriel," she looked up at him with a shy but kind smile. He blinked in surprise. It was the same female he just met in the bookstore.

"Do you know each other?" Feyre's smile grew, noticing their surprised faces.

"Yes-.. Well, no," he mumbled.

"We met by chance in the bookstore today. I wasn't paying attention, tripped and bumped into him, yet he was so kind that he helped me gather the books that I dropped," Blaire explained. A lovely blush spread on her cheeks. "Again, I'm really sorry for that," she turned to him.

"No, it was my mistake. I was taking too much space in the aisle. I apologise."

"Interesting," Rhysand and Cassian said at the same time, watching the two of them with all-knowing grins.

Assholes, Azriel mouthed.

The shadows peeked from beneath the table, interested in the newcomer. Blaire noticed the movement and looked down. Azriel carefully watched her reaction, expecting her to freak out as most of people did when they found out the shadows could move on their own.

"Hey there," she whispered, eyeing them with interest. The shadows vibrated at the greeting and flew closer, curiously swirling around her, touching her arms, legs and hair. Blaire giggled, hiding it in her palm.

"My apologies," Azriel mumbled. "They are very curious beings and don't really respect personal space. Not even mine."

"It's okay," she answered, her fingers playing with cool tendrils.

Azriel's corners of the mouth twitched in a small genuine smile. Her reaction was refreshing. He finally relaxed into the chair, a bit stretching out his wings that he had held rigidly tugged to his back whole the time.

The dinner went smoothly, the light conversation over the meal was very pleasant and interesting. Azriel found himself listening carefully whenever someone asked something Blaire, eager to learn more about her. He'd like to blame it on an occupational disease, but it was just his natural interest in an attractive female.

He was so busy keeping an eye on her that he didn't even notice the cold glare Mor was sending their way all the evening. She didn't speak much nor ate, yet her glass needed to be refilled quite often.

After eating delicious meal everyone walked over to the sitting room were the conversation continued. However, it was Friday and as every Friday his friends took out their usual favourite games.

Bat boys sat down around small round table with cards and cheered by the females, they played as passionately and ruthlessly as only they could. Azriel got completely carried away by the game and his excessive competitiveness, and for a moment he forgot about everything that bothered him. He really enjoyed it.

After losing several times, Cassian grumbling gave the game up, wanting to play something he couldn't lose at. And so he took out the bottle.

The whole group gathered on sofas in front of the fireplace. This time everyone played. Well, almost everyone. Elain and Lucien moved to the corner of the room, quietly talking about something. Azriel watched them for a while, ire twisting his guts. He emptied his glass in one go.

"Easy," Rhysand whispered as he refilled his glass.

Azriel narrowed eyes at him. If he could, he would rather leave than to torture himself like this. When his gaze again moved to the couple, he couldn't see them anymore. Instead, Blaire with her soft smile sat opposite him, obscuring the view. In the heat of the game, he had almost forgotten she was there. She was quite quiet most of the time, looking rather shy, mostly talking only with Feyre. She didn't look like really wanting to play this kind of game, but Feyre had convinced her.

Cassian, seated next to his mate, spun the empty wine bottle and took a big gulp from his glass.

"Okay, guys, let's play," he growled, clapping his hands. This was his favourite game ever since Azriel knew him.

The bottle stopped, pointing to Mor who seemed to be already quite drunken, swaying from side to side even while sitting.

"Truth or dare?" Cassian grinned. Hot topics were his speciality and reason why he liked this game so much.

"Truth," Mor drank gulp of wine.

"Great! So.. are you dating someone now?"

Mor frowned at him, pouting. That was something she visibly didn't want to answer. For a moment, her eyes fell to Azriel sitting next to Cassian and something inside him stirred.

It wasn't so long since she finally told him that he had no chance with her as she prefered females. He accepted it more calmly than he actually felt and made peace with it. Though, it was hard get over the feelings and hopes he held on for so long. All the pain and longing that tortured him for centuries, was still there. A bit duller than months ago, but still too fresh. He wondered what was so bad about him, what he had done to be undeserving of love. Seeing so many happy couples around him, he wanted nothing more but to have someone who would accept his heart and return the feelings sincerely.

Holding breath, he looked down at his feet and emptied another glass. He didn't want to think about that now.

"I want dare then," Mor announced at last.

"So kiss Cassian," Amren barked before Cassian could open his mouth. Her silver eyes were at Nesta, cold and cruel.

Azriel in disbelief gaped at small female. His mate was literally sitting next to him, yet she dared Mor of all people to kiss him. By the murderous angry gazes two females were exchanging, Azriel could easily guess that they were again at each other's throat because of something that had happened while he was on the mission.

Blaire was eyeing them all in confusion. He felt sorry for her. This definitely wasn't the best first impression. He wouldn't be surprised if she never accepted invitation to dinner again. Feyre seemed to be of the very same opinion. She excused herself and went to the kitchen to prepare desserts, glaring at those four fools.

"Fine," Mor stood up on unsteady legs.

Cassian obviously hadn't noticed the mood in the room and grinning jumped up. Azriel turned away, not wanting to witness the kiss, neither Nesta's reaction. Despite everything, he liked Nesta. She earned his respect and he considered her his good friend. This was a real blow below the belt that she didn't deserve.

Next, Mor spun the bottle. Azriel watched it, his jaw clenched. He wished that the bottle fell off the table and broke into pieces to end this stupid game. Instead, it stopped, pointing to Blaire who nervously winced.

Mor raised a brow at her.

"Truth or dare?" Cassian asked excitedly. He was apparently the only one enjoying this.

"Well," she cleared her throat shyly. "The truth."

Mor grinned drunkenly. The shiver ran down Azriel's spine at the sight, already sensing some really unpleasant question coming.

"How many males have you slept with?"

Azriel froze on the spot. That really wasn't question for a female who just flet from Autumn Court and from the ridiculous rules she had to follow her entire life, and they all knew it very well, including Morrigan.

Blaire paled and then blushed, her soft green eyes wide open.

"You don't have to answer, dear," Rhysand assured her gently. "We all know that giving such questions to guests is inappropriate, right?" He turned his violet gaze to his cousin, the anger radiating from him. Even though he was quiet ever since the game had started, Azriel felt his cold rage rising like a tide with every minute.

"Oh, Rhys, don't spoil the game," Cassian sighed. "You can choose dare instead." He winked at fiercely blushing Blaire. She hesitantly nodded.

Morrigan gritted her teeth. Her drunken gaze jumped from Blaire to Azriel who couldn't take his eyes off of the female, ready to protect her if necessary.

"Kiss him," she pointed at Azriel.

Azriel's eyes shot to his ex long-term love interest in disbelief. It was as eyes-opening situation as a punch to the guts and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed sooner what kind of person she was in real. How could he fall in love with someone so cruel who played with people and their feelings like with chess pieces? It shocked him so much that he hardly heard when Blaire excused herself and went looking for toilet.

Rhysand waited until she left out of earshot. "What. The. Fuck. Is wrong with all of you today?!"

The room fell silent, no one dared to even breath.

"She's Feyre's friend. What does she think about us now? Did you listen when Feyre warned you that she's from Autumn Court? That she had to run away from her home, so she could start to live anew and on her own terms? That girl has serious trauma. And you?! You really disappointed me today."

"You are right, Rhys," Cassian mumbled, scratching his beard. "Playing this game was really stupid idea. I'm sorry."

"Don't expect me to apologise. I have nothing to be sorry for," Morrigan grunted.

Azriel saw red for a second. He had enough for tonight. "Unbelievable," he growled. "I'm off."

With that he stood up and before anyone could say a word, he left.

Blaire was on verge of crying. She needed time to breath it out.

She really loved Feyre and was so grateful for everything she had done for her ever since Blaire came to this Court. When Feyre invited her to the dinner at her house to meet her family, Blaire was hesitant at first. However, sitting at the table she was glad she accepted the invitation. The dinner was delicious and Feyre's family seemed to be so nice and kind.

When the mysterious and handsome male who was so kind to her at bookstore, appeared on threshold.. well.. She was really excited. He was gloomy and looked kind of dangerous, but he radiated a strange aura of calm and peace that attracted her. He hadn't spoken much during the dinner, but she felt good sitting beside him.

The game evening hadn't started so bad too. It was kind of exciting to watch three males play cards. They were so serious about it that it was funny. Azriel seemed to completely relax during the game and she could secretly watch him. He was so interesting person. She already thought so when they briefly talked in the bookstore and now even more after getting to know him little better.

However, when they started to play the other game, they all changed all of sudden. Kissing male who was mated, was quite unthinkable for Blaire, as well as accepting such kiss. At that moment she wasn't sure what to think about them.

And when they asked her that question.. It was really uncomfortable and she felt as if she did something bad and somehow offended the blonde. The kiss dare was the last straw and she needed to leave.

Blaire was walking down the hallway, completely lost. Feyre showed her direction to the toilet when she arrived, but she was upset now and must have mistaken somewhere along the way. She turned the corner and got yet to another hallway with several doors. She wasn't sure what to do, so she tried the first doors on the left.

The room was dark, but she could make out an outlines of a large bed. She panicked and was about to again close the doors when she noticed shelves full of books. She hesitated. At last, she decided that it couldn't hurt if she took a look. She turned on lamp in the corner of the room and closed the doors.

The room faintly smelled of cedar and night-chilled mist. It was quite pleasant and calming scent. Her eyes wandered over the countless spines of the books, until she found one that caught her attention. It was the book she had bought earlier and now it was waiting for her in the bag at foyer. She couldn't resist and started reading.

She was so immersed in the story that she didn't hear the doors opened and closed.

"That one is good."

Blaire was startled, almost dropping the book. She pivoted and was met with piercing hazel eyes that in the soft light of the lamp looked golden-brown, like warm honey.

"I-I'm sorry.. I was looking for toilet.." she stuttered.

"And instead you found my room," Azriel smirked and one lovely dimple appeared. "What do you say to that?"

She gaped at him in terror. He was so tall that it was intimidating. He was leaning against the frame of door, hands crossed on his broad chest, a few dark strands falling to his eyes. His expression was unreadable.

When she didn't answer, he nodded to the book in her hands. "Do you like it?"

Ashamed she looked down at the book and then back up at him. "Y-yes, it's interesting."

Azriel just smiled and stepped closer. The smell of cedar and night-chilled mist became stronger. Blaire inhaled deeply, completely enchanted. He was too handsome and charming.

Head slightly tilted to the side, Azriel watched her carefully, searching her face. An enormous wings behind him rustled softly. His chest was heaving with quick breaths, full lips lightly parted.

Something cold brushed against her back and hands, snapping her out of the trance. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone inside and touched your things. It was really rude of me."

"I don't mind," he chuckled.

His long fingers wrapped around the book, gently touching hers. When she didn't pull away, they travelled to her wrist, thumbs drawing circles over her pulse points. Holding her gaze, he slowly bent down. His hot breath fanned over her face.

Gods, he was so handsome. Blaire's heart was hammering in her chest, her body shivering with pleasure. Combination of his look and personality should be illegal. She was drawn to him like a flower to the sun. At this moment, she would gladly allow him to do to her whatever he wanted. Just him standing so close to her, touching her hands, made her feel more alive than ever. The enchantment changed into sweet pain that grew between her thighs.

"Are we still playing?" he asked with lips mere inches from hers, his voice hoarse.

Blaire blinked once, then twice. She suddenly sobered up. Realizing how much she was leaning into him, pushing him to the wall, she blushed. As if it wasn't enough that she invaded his private bedroom and touched his stuff.

"I'm so sorry," ashamed she ran away, leaving heaving Azriel with book in hand behind.

Blaire seemed to leave the house in haste that night. He didn't know whether she told her something, but when Feyre learnt how Morrigan treated her friend, she was mad. Azriel hoped she would mention her friend or try to bring her over one more time. Though, after what had happened last time, she most likely wouldn't come again.

Azriel couldn't forget that short moment in his room that he shared with Blaire. He was so close to kissing her. Her sweet scent lingered in his bedroom for days and he stayed there until it completely faded away. Then he returned to the House of Wind instantly feeling sorry for his choice. After the game night, everything was messed up and atmosphere in the House was suffocating at best.

Week passed without Blaire's name being mentioned again. Azriel grew restless. He still could feel her soft skin and rapid pulse. And those eyes and smile. He wanted to see her again even if only to apologise for scaring her away. That night he really hoped he could at least kiss her and ask her out. After all, mentioning that stupid game was bad idea. Maybe if he didn't, she wouldn't run from him and things would be different now.

She seemed to be attracted to him, too. No doubt there was a spark between them. He clearly felt it. He needed to meet her again to find out whether the spark could become a flame.

After thinking it over and over again, he decided to visit Feyre in her studio.

It was nice, sunny day and Rainbow was just as vivid as always. A pleasant melody flowed through the street, artists pulled out their easels and painted on the street. The sounds of laughter could be heard from everywhere, children ran among the people on a walk.

Azriel landed in front of Feyre's studio and after looking around for a while, he entered. She immediately looked up from her newest project and smiled.

"Oh, it's you. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I suppose," he mumbled, not sure how to turn the conversation to the reason of his visit. He had prepared a speech, imagining the whole situation, but now when he was standing in front of her, it didn't seem to be such a brilliant idea as he originally thought. He felt awkward.

"Hmm, Az, I meant to say this sooner," Feyre put down the brush and wiping her hands, she fully turned to him. "I want to thank you for.. the way you treated Blaire before. You were probably the only one who bothered to behave normally and she said that she is glad she could meet you. She seems to like especially the chat about books, you two had, even though I'm not sure when it happened."

Azriel was stunned. Blaire really mentioned him? He'd like to know what exactly she said about him.

"Uhm, that was nothing," he shrugged. "I'm glad I met her, too.."

He felt the heat slowly spreading to his cheeks and turned around, pretending that he admired the paintings on the wall.

Feyre watched him with a small smile. "You like her, right? I noticed it during the dinner."

Azriel froze on the spot.

"No.. What?! I mean, yeah.. No!" he babbled, blushing more and more. He bit on his tongue and took a deep breath. When he calmed down he tried it again. "What I mean is that she is quite interesting and I'd like to talk to her again if I had the chance."

"I see," Feyre chuckled. "You seem to be a bit flustered today. Maybe a cup of tea in some nice cafe would make you feel better."

Azriel pivoted, brows raised. When he saw her expression, he understood.

"Maybe I should give it a try," he smirked. He bid her a goodbye and went out, blending in with the crowd on the street.

There was one lovely cafe at the opposite end of the street. It was in a quite quiet neighbourhood and one of the places Azriel liked to visit from time to time.

As soon as he opened the door, staff greeted him with smile and immediately prepared the tea he usually drank there. He took the cup and looked around. The inside of the cafe was spacious and cosy with tables set far enough apart that he didn't have to pay attention when walking between them. As usual, there were some customers, but it wasn't crowded. One of many reasons he liked this shop.

In the opposite corner he spotted the person he was looking for. Without hesitation he headed to her table.

Blaire was seated on chair facing the window, immersed in the book he recognised right away. The steam rose from the cup placed on the table in front of her, sweet scent of fruit tea surrounding her.

"We meet again," he murmured with genuine smile.

Her green eyes shot up to him, surprised.

"I- Nice to see you again," she blushed and made space for him.

He sat down, noting her progress with the book. "Have you already gotten to the part where he finally tells her the truth?"

She shook her head. "What kind of truth is it?"

"I won't spoil the surprise," he snorted.

"How cruel of you," she sipped from her cup of tea, hiding the blush in steam.

"I hoped to see you again," he watched her carefully. "I wanted to apologise."

"It's strange," she bit on her bottom lip. "I wanted to apologise to you, too. You know.. For invading your privacy and.." She hid her face behind the veil of her long hair.

Azriel reached out and taking her chin between fingers made her look at him. He wanted to see her face properly. "Don't. I quite liked that part."

Her eyes widened.

"Ever since I met you, I can't get you out of my head, Blaire," he purred lowly, watching with pleasure as she shivered and closed her eyes when he said her name. That was exactly the reaction he hoped for. He licked his lips. "There's a place I'd like to show you. Would you go with me?"

She considered his offer for a moment and then nodded. He helped her put her things to the bag and holding her hand led her from the shop. As soon as the narrow alley widened into a street, he picked her up and dashed to the sky.

Blaire couldn't believe what just happened.

After her shameful behaviour and run from his room, she was convinced that Azriel didn't want to even hear about her again. The day she came to terms with the thought that she would probably never meet him again, he appeared in her favourite cafe and came to her table. It was unbelievable.

Hearing him utter her name for the first time in the deep voice of his shattered her soul into pieces, and her heart melted into a puddle. She had no reason to believe him, they basically spoke only very briefly, but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. He wasn't like males of Autumn Court. He didn't treat her like a nuisance, like someone inferior. His calm and quiet nature was like a balm, the promise of peace. That was why she agreed to go with him so easily.

Flying with him was another exciting experience. Despite of keeping her so close, he carried her with respect. He wasn't trying to touch her in any inappropriate way, yet he held her firmly all the time. Being scared of heights, Blaire spent most of it with her face buried in his shoulder. However, his comments on the changing surrounding were too tempting and she dared to look down once or twice.

When they landed he put her down, steadying her until he was sure that she could stand on her own. Blaire looked around. They were in the middle of a forest, no living creature and no buildings in the sight. She swallowed hard, starting to doubt her decision.

Azriel just chuckled, walking down the path. "This way."

She followed him, biting on her bottom lip nervously. "Where are you taking me to?"

"You'll see soon." He seemed to be in quite a good mood. He even started to hum some nice melody lowly.

They walked for few minutes when the trees finally parted and they found themselves on the shore of a mountain lake, surrounded by tall trees and high mountains. A gentle breeze lightly caressed the surface of the otherwise calm lake, creating small waves. The sky above them was clear, the most most beautiful shade of blue with a few fluffy clouds flying high above their heads. The fresh air filled Blaire's lungs while the singing of the birds and rustling of leaves in the treetops caressed her senses.

And in the middle of that stood Azriel with his wings slightly stretched out, tall, powerful and unearthly beautiful. The light breeze was playing with strands of his dark hair and hem of his T-shirt. His face was calm and posture relaxed, his eyes shone like liquid gold. The shadows that followed him on every step, were dancing around his ankles, calling her closer.

Blaire wished she had paper and pencil with her to capture this unique moment.

"Here we are," Azriel smiled brightly. "This is my favourite place. When I feel bad and need to think about things in peace, I like to come here." He looked at her out of the corner of the eye, waiting for her reaction.

However, Blaire was stunned, completely speechless. She could only stand there, admiring the view. Her eyes lingered on small details, committing them to the memory, so she would be able to draw this later.

"You don't like it?" he hid his face, turning away.

Blaire opened mouth, looking for the right words and her lost voice. "I love it. It's so.. perfect."

Azriel breathed out in relief and walking to the lake, he took off his shirt and then even shoes and trousers.

Blaire knew that she shouldn't gaze at him, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. His body was a masterpiece, showing off even the muscles she didn't know that existed. Dark lines of tattoos swirled around his shoulders, curling across his chest and back, creating complex patterns. She wondered what's the meaning of them.

Meanwhile Azriel plunged into the water and began swimming toward the middle of the lake.

"Why don't you join me?" he called back. "Water isn't so cold. It's refreshing."

Blaire blushed, wrapping arms around her chest.

"I-I don't have a swimwear with me," she called.

Azriel stopped and turned to her, thinking. "You can use my T-shirt if you want. I won't look, I promise."

Blaire looked down at clothes he left on the grass. To be honest, she wanted to swim with him even though she wasn't a good swimmer. It took her only a moment to decide.

"Fine, so.. don't look, please."

He smiled and turned his back to her. She picked up his T-shirt and quickly changed. There were cuts on the back for his wings and overall it was so big that it looked like a dress on her, falling all the way down to her knees.

"Done," she called shyly.

Azriel again turned to her, swimming closer. His eyes little darkened as he took her form in.

"It suits you better than me. You should keep it," one corner of his mouth stretched into one-sided smile. "Come."

Blaire carefully stepped into water and slightly trembled when cool liquid licked her ankles. "It's a bit cold."

"Only at the beginning. Once you dip in and start to move, it's fine."

Slowly she swam closer to him, hardly holding her head above surface.

"I'm not good swimmer," she admitted, when he grabbed her elbows, helping her.

"It's easy. Try to lay down on the water. I'm here, no worry."

Hesitantly, she did as he said, his big warm palms under her back and thighs.

"That's it. And now relax and let yourself be carried away."

"How?"

"Don't think about it much. Just.. let it happen."

Blaire took deep breath and relaxed, clearing her mind. Before she knew it, she was floating in the water.

"See? Easy," Azriel smiled, gently caressing her cheek.

Blaire opened eyes just to find him holding both hands up. She panicked and dipped below the surface for a moment.

"Carefully," he again grabbed her elbows, pulling her closer.

They gazed at each other, their bodies slightly touching under the water.

"Thank you," Blaire breathed out, mesmerized by his dimly shining eyes.

"I did nothing," his cheeks turned pink, his gaze switching between her eyes and mouth.

Hesitantly he pulled her even closer and she welcomed it. Their chests were brushing with every breath, the wet thin fabric creating no barrier between them. Blaire rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly holding on him and his warm palms slid down to her hips. Now there was only an inch between their lips, the tension growing.

"If you don't want it, say something or I.."

"Kiss me already," she whispered out of breath.

His plush lips crashed into hers. Azriel stayed like that for a single heartbeat and then with a small moan he started to move. His kiss was sweet and gentle, but Blaire didn't want him to be gentle. Entwining fingers with his silky dark strands, she lightly pulled on them. A growl vibrated through his chest and he submitted, deepening the kiss. He tugged her to his strong chest and she moaned when their hard and soft parts met. The moment her lips parted, he lashed forward. His tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring and caressing. He kissed her hungrily, his hands sliding up and down her body, caressing and squeezing.

She didn't notice that she was unknowingly pushing him under the water, but he didn't seem to mind it at slightest, not until they both ran out of air. Heaving they emerged, splashing the water all around.

"That.. was interesting," Azriel panted.

"Yeah, very," Blaire agreed still out of breath.

"But maybe it would be better without the water next time."

"Definitely," she agreed and they started to laugh.

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 2 days ago

Note

perhaps could you write a karen smut fic? like, reader is tutoring karen (established relationship or not, up to you!!) and it eventually gets a bit spicy? thank you!

You Were The Best

|| Karen Shetty x fem!reader

|| Warnings; smut, mirror use, praise kink, Karen receiving, biting, fingering, orgasm

|| Summary; when helping Karen with her geography homework, reader can't help getting a little distracted.

Requests closed!

Started; November 13th

Finished; November 13th

~~~

Karen had you over at her place; being her girlfriend often meant helping her out with homework. But you hardly minded. Besides, it meant that you got to spend more time with her. Tonight's homework was geography, which wasn't too bad. You guys were colouring in and naming a world map. Something that you would have a test on later this week.

"And over here is Canada," You pointed to the country above America, looking at Karen to make sure she understood. She gave you a nod and went to write it, but paused when she realized she couldn't spell the word. Karen looked up at you expectantly. You laughed a bit and gave her a gentle smile," C-a-n-a-d-a." You spelt it out, pausing after each word and waiting until she had it written down. You checked it over and nodded, giving her a kiss on the cheek that made her smile.

Your eyes look into her own and you can't help but take a moment to admire her. Karen was stunning, you loved her more than you could ever say into words. And she felt just the same. Before you knew it, your lips were against hers as you kissed her. Hand wrapping around her waist, palm pressing into the small of her back. Pulling her impossibly closer.

Karen kissed you back with ease. She loved kissing you, she loved you. You were her everything. And she didn't always know how to express that. But she really tried. After all, Karen only wanted the best for you. Because in her eyes, you were the best. The best thing that could have possibly happened to her. Even Gretchen was fond of you, which honestly? Was more than enough confirmation for Karen.

Lips danced against lips, soft sounds filled the room as you got more handsy with each other. Then, in your fogged one track mind, you got an idea. Having fantasied about it many times. You parted the kiss, looking Karen up and down with a smirk. "C'mere." You took her hand, pulling her over to the body mirror she had.

She looked a little confused by the whole thing; but followed you despite that. That's just how Karen was. Even if she had no idea what was really going on, she trusted you and would follow you everywhere. You smiled at that and got each other's clothes off. Karen watched as your fingers worked with the fabric, then pulled them off her. "What are you-?" She had started to ask, but you answered her question by pushing Karen against the mirror. Karen's arms rested against the cold surface, providing some space between them. Allowing her to look at herself.

You pressed up against Karen's back, an almost purr like sound leaving your lips. Watching her in the mirror. You moved her hair aside, planting sloppy kisses to her neck. Leaving occasional bites," look at you." You murmured against her skin and Karen shivered," so beautiful. And so... wet.. all for me." Your fingers went down between her folds, feeling and hearing the wetness. Seeing it in the mirror as your fingers played with her. Pressing Karen's clit. Gliding along her folds with feather like touches. Bringing moans from Karen's mouth. Her legs trembled under your touch, backing up further against you. Trying to be as close as she could.

You couldn't help but grin, feeling wet yourself. But you kept your focus on the girl in front of you. Once she was wet enough, your finger slipped in with ease. One finger first, letting her get used to it. Then another before pumping at a slow pace. Karen tensed up at the feeling, unable to do anything but moan and tremble. You kept it slow, letting her take the time she needed. Then gradually moved faster. Faster. Until all that filled the room was the sounds of Karen's moans and the sloppy wet sounds your fingers caused every time you pumped into her.

Karen arched her back into you, your name falling from her lips as you kissed her neck. Murmuring sweet praises. It didn't take Karen long for her to cum on your fingers, legs trembling more than they'd been before. You helped her through her high before settling and helping her clean up. Yeah, Karen loved you.

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erasinglines · 2 days ago

Text

can't help the way he smiles into the kiss, at the tease that departs her lips. he can't remember the last time he's done that, how natural it's felt, how irrevocably happy he feels, in a shared moment like this. but, he supposes, as she leads him down the hallway, the walls whispering with past memories and paving the way, that she's always been the one to bring this out of him, that, no matter how much time has passed, he will follow her, blindly, wherever she wants to lead him— there's a sacred trust that lingers between them, an understanding, that could never be replaced elsewhere. " yeah? you don't need to clear out your schedule for me? " he teases back, the words pressed against her. and, as they make it to the bedroom, uninjured and completely absorbed in each other, he doesn't think twice about crossing over the threshold of the door, like he had, that night they ended up on her couch. he'd had his own reservations, then, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, having to face the space where he once laid his head each night, with her wrapped up in his arms— this room, once considered theirs, was testament to the love buried between them; a sanctuary of those night's they spent together, sharing secrets and words of affirmation, of whispers and sighs, tangled limbs and shared breaths. this feels different, somehow, like it's not just a fleeting moment between them, before they return to their normal lives, unsure of when they'll see or hear from one another again. now, at least, there's some sort of relationship between them, again, even if it's difficult, even if they're faced with distance. but, here, now, it all feels as if it's falling into place, like this is where they were supposed to end up, after bathing in the scattered pieces of their lives that had been on display, tonight. he relishes in it, nonetheless, ignoring what's waiting for them outside these walls, what will soon rush back in and remind them of their reality, once the sun rises. couldn't consider that now, however— how could he, when her exploring lips trail along the curve of his neck, his jaw? breathing in general becomes harder, once fingers work at his shirt's buttons, his eyes fluttering shut as her breath ghosts over his skin, chest rising and falling with every gentle peck she leaves behind, each button undone. he wants to savour this feeling, take their time with it. there's no need to rush it, not when they have this whole night together, not when he's unsure of when they'll next have uninterrupted time like this. her question brings him back to reality for a brief moment, and he opens his eyes to gaze down at her, his own hand coming to rest at the base of her neck, thumb stroking the skin there. " here is okay, " he whispers, voice raspy, as his shirt opens further, her touch a brushstroke across the bare flesh. " it's more than okay, " he adds, hoping she can sense how much he wants this, how appreciative he is, for allowing him back here, the only place he's ever felt at home. the hand at her neck moves, then, a gentle touch he caresses down her back, until his palm can rest against her tailbone, pressing her further against him. " think it's perfect, actually... and you, too— god, you're so fucking perfect, devon. "

relief floods her frame at his reassurance that no, she wasn’t a terrible person for wanting this again, for wanting him, regardless of their other entanglements. she couldn’t think of that, now, couldn’t associate any form of guilt with being with him, because it didn’t feel wrong. it never did. and thankfully, they were on the same page, just like they always were. feels like it, anyway, as he kisses her, and she kisses him, allowing herself to succumb to the fact that this was happening, that she couldn’t stop it, even if she wanted to— they were already free falling down that cliff together. “ yeah, i should be free later, ” she teases, words mumbled against him as she uses that hand against his chest to tug him along with her, never once parting from his embrace, clumsily kissing him all the way to what was once their bedroom. now, it’s just hers, with an occasional guest, but she’s kept it mostly the same. it’s just missing him, his books, his scent, his t-shirts he would peel off her and toss on the floor. this room felt sacred, considering all they once shared here— so many nights spent laying together, talking, laughing, dreaming until the early hours of the morning. exploring each other mentally, physically, falling deeper and deeper each passing day. it was where they woke up together, where he read to her, where she fell asleep in his arms. it was their safe space, above all else. it’s why she understood, last time they were together all those years ago, why he didn’t want to step past this threshold, why they ended up on the couch, avoiding all the memories within this specific set of walls. but she doesn’t want to avoid them, now— in fact, she thinks it’s the perfect place to end up after tonight, after soaking in all those memories earlier, in the gallery. and it’s then that she decides she doesn’t want to rush this, that despite the passion and need flowing through her veins, she wants to prolong it for as long as possible, to focus on tenderness and care and transmitting all the love for him that still burns inside her into every action, no matter how small. she wanted to pretend like they had all the time in the world, like they used to. sure, her heart might break all over again waking up tomorrow, but she didn’t want to think about that, right now. she would much rather focus on the feel of him beneath her palms, how he tastes, how he smells, how he sounds— all five senses engaged. and it’s then that her lips trail away from his, now traveling along his jaw and down his neck, breath hot against his skin as her fingers slowly work at the buttons of his shirt, taking her time with it, despite how her hands shake with want. her lips follow suit, trailing down his collarbone, soon pressing a soft kiss to the flesh she reveals with each button. she pauses once she’s halfway down his chest, looking up at him for reassurance. “ is this okay ? ” she breathes, pressing another singular kiss to his chest, as fingertips work a little faster at the rest of them. “ being in here, i mean. because the couch still works if you don’t want to, i just— ” she shrugs, leaning against him. “ just feels like old times in here, is all. ”

#interactions / miller banks.#bluestsdays #this is a result of my sick yucky brain.... i'm sorry u have to read it wosdkdkh </333

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diaper-dyke · 2 days ago

Text

"Here she is, Ma'am. In nearly perfect condition."

Esther felt sick as she heard laughter, and a large, heavy boot pressed against her back. She grunted as she was shoved into the floor.

"I am not seeing what exactly you finding funny about this," scoffed the new voice. "I gave very clear instructions, did I not? Remind me what I told you two."

"Umm.."

"Aww, do you not remember? Allow me to remind you. I told you very specifically to not damage the merchandise."

Esther felt the boot being removed from her back. A gentle hand hooked under her chin, lifting her head up. Before Esther could get more than a glimpse of her captors, however, a blindfold was tied firmly around her head.

"I expect this to not be an issue in the future, otherwise there will be severe consequences. Now, make yourselves useful and take us home."

"She's a fierce one. Will you be okay alone?"

"Don't worry about me. I can handle this one just fine on my own."

Do you want to bet on that? Esther thought, slightly loopy due to the alcohol.

"Alright. Just let me know if she gets to be too much, and I'll come help you."

As soon as Esther felt the van start to move, she started trying to scramble up. Soft laughter came from her remaining captor.

"No, no. You stay down there, little one." A high heel rested on her shoulders, pressing down firmly. Esther, however, was feeling more resistant now, and she started to thrash wildly.

The thing that frightened her the most was that this only provoked another giggle from her captor. No grunts of effort, no growls, no huffs of frustration, just eerie, soft laughter, a harbinger of the dreadful things to come. Esther started scrambling up to her feet. It killed her head and her bad knee to do so, but she had to get out of here. She had to get home!

"You're a little fighter, hm? How delightful!" Esther could hear the grin in the stranger's voice as one arm wrapped around her. "Well, I'm quite excited to play with you, and I can tell that you can't wait for me to do so. But I'm afraid that this van isn't the best place for playtime. So why don't you be a good girl for me?"

"I want to go home," Esther shouted, just remembering that she had a voice to use. It felt raw and scratchy, even though she hadn't even been screaming like she had wanted to. "Let me go!"

"You are home, silly girl! After all, you're mine now. Which means that your home is with me." The arm squeezed her tightly, pinning Esther's own arms to her sides.

"I'm not yours!" she cried, trying to free one of her hands. "I don't belong to anybody."

"Such a little squirmer," cooed the stranger. "We'll get that all fixed. Now, hold still, little one!~"

Before Esther could ask what the everloving fuck that meant, she felt something prick her upper left arm. It stung for about two seconds, before the feeling vanished. Esther whimpered, knowing that this sick bastard had injected her with something, most likely a sedative of some sort. Her time was.. limited.

"It's all going to be okay," the voice was soothing now, strawberry-scented breath blowing past her ear. "You may not understand right now, but this is for your own good. I promise."

Esther felt her own struggles growing weaker and weaker. Exhaustion dragged at her muscles, making her collapse into her captor's arms. The last thing she heard before falling unconscious was the stranger humming a soft lullaby.

Full chapter coming soon on AO3!

#brought to you by whatever the fuck is happening in my mindscape #also i still haven't named this shhhhh #axo.txt #text #story #mine

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krirebr · 12 hours ago

Text

I Know I Should Know Better 7/End

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.6k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, explicit language, anxiety, but mostly, it's a goddamn happy ending, you guys!! Finally!!! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Holy shit. I can't believe it. We've made it to the end of this series. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who's been along on this ride. Your support of this story has really bowled me over. I so hope you love this ending as much as I do.

For this one, especially, any comment, reblog, or ask will mean so much to me. I can't wait to talk to you all about where we leave our sweet beans.

Curtis stood on the front step of your house, waiting to be let in. He'd never gone in this way before, not even the first time. But he didn’t work for you anymore. He was the boyfriend now. A guest. So he'd play by the rules he'd always been so annoyed with Colin and Johnny and the like for flaunting.

It only took a few minutes for Jensen to open the door. “Hey man,” he greeted warmly. “You know you don’t have to stand out here. Come on, get in.” Curtis followed Jake in, then stood somewhat awkwardly in the entryway. Luckily, Jake kept talking. “I should’ve texted you, but I was really sorry to hear how that whole thing went down. It wasn’t fair to either of you.”

“Thanks, Jake,” Curtis said sincerely. “I appreciate it. And I’m sorry, for all the secrecy.”

Jake shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry. You didn’t owe me any of that.”

Curtis gave a slight nod. “I hope you at least got a promotion out of it.”

Jake ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, kind of. Although I’m sort of pulling double duty right now while we try to find a new driver. But I think the trip went well, so…” he trailed off and shrugged. “You found something, yet?”

Curtis just shook his head. Honestly, he’d barely started looking for his next job. He’d been tired of personal security for a while now, and this seemed like a good opportunity to see what was next. Figure out what he actually wanted. Growing up in foster care, he’d been too aware of how easily things could be taken away, so as soon as he’d started making money, saving had been a priority for him. He had a decent rainy day fund set aside now. He figured he might as well make use of it. And if he got to a point where he needed to pick up a short-term gig here or there, he was sure, with all of his connections now, that he’d be able to do that. “No,” he said, “I think I’m gonna take my time.”

“Nice,” Jake nodded. “Good for you. Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I always liked working with you.”

That got a genuine smile out of Curtis. “Thanks, Jake, you too.” He glanced around your house anxiously. He thought he heard Michelle in the living room, but he didn’t know who else might be here, occupying your time. “Everybody still busy with her?”

“No, the stylist and makeup artists left a couple of minutes ago. I think she’s just getting dressed now, in her room. You should be good.”

Curtis nodded, patted Jake on the shoulder, and made his way through your house.

Two weeks apart. They’d been filled with constant texting, evening phone calls, as much checking in as he could manage in your busy schedule. Hearing about your appearances, junket days, meet and greets. You were finally back, as of that morning, but he still had to steal time for your reunion before the last of your late-night talk show appearances. Your schedule never stopped.

He took the stairs up to your bedroom two at a time and gave a light knock once he got to your door. It immediately swung open to reveal you standing right in front of him in your underwear. He barely had a moment to process before you were throwing yourself at him, filling his arms with you, burying your face in his neck. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you breathed.

“Yeah,” he whispered, holding you as tight as he could. “Me too. Me too.” He shuffled you further into the room so he could kick the door shut behind him and then stood there with you in his arms for as long as you both needed.

You finally pulled away and he took his chance to look around. A rolling rack of clothing your stylist must have brought over was against one wall. Two outfits were laid out on the bed. Your suitcase was flung open in the far corner of the room, items spilling out of it. And then he took you in. Your hair and makeup were already done, but if he looked very closely, he could see the barest hint of bags under your eyes. Your smile was a little sad and you were picking at your nails, seemingly without realizing it. “How are you doing?” he asked, softly.

“I’m alright. I’m– I don’t know. I’m really tired, but,” you looked around yourself, “I’m happy to be home.”

He nodded. The exhaustion was radiating off of you. You’d told him in one of your late-night phone conversations that you’d barely slept on your trip. He wished he could wrap you up and tuck you into bed right now. “Were you able to sleep on the plane at all?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s just been,” you shrugged again, “too much to think about.”

He opened his mouth to ask what was on your mind, but you were already turning away. You went to the foot of your bed and stared at the outfits laid out there.

“Which do you think?” you asked, your hands on your hips.

He looked at the two outfits. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for. He didn’t feel like he really knew clothes well enough to offer any sort of an opinion. One was a dress, low-cut and mid-length, maybe. The other was a pair of shiny black pants, although not leather, and a billowy metallic tank. Each outfit had a corresponding pair of sky-high heels sitting at the foot of the bed. “What are you gonna be most comfortable in?” he finally asked.

You sighed ruefully. “Yeah, I'm sure jeans and a t-shirt would go over real well.” After a moment of thought, you picked up the pants and blouse and started putting them on.

You were both quiet as you put on the finishing touches. He helped you with the necklace and bracelets, his big hands carefully opening and closing the clasps.

You stepped away and turned to him. “What do you think?” you asked, a touch of shyness in your voice.

He closed the space between you and put his hands on your hips. “You’re beautiful,” he said, sincerely.

You just looked at him for a moment, studying his face for something, he didn’t know what. Finally, you asked, “You really do love me, don't you?” with just a touch of awe in your voice.

“Yes,” he said without a moment of hesitation, trying to infuse that one word with all of his certainty.

He'd only told you he loved you a few times, since that first time, not wanting to overwhelm or pressure you. He knew he'd jumped ahead. You hadn't said it back yet which was fine. He understood. You'd get there when you were ready. But even if he was trying to go at your pace, he never wanted you to doubt him.

You kissed him unabashedly at that and it did something to settle the worry he'd felt since he laid eyes on you. You pulled back and grinned, the first real smile he'd seen from you since before you left for New York. “I'm gonna get yelled at for messing up my lipstick, but I don't care,” you said, before going in for another, shorter one. He gripped your hips tighter as you pulled your head away, giving him a knowing smirk. “Come on, I’m sure I’m already running late.”

He didn’t let go. Something about this time, just the two of you, felt too precious. “I don’t work for you anymore. I’m the boyfriend now, so I don’t fucking care if you’re late.”

You laughed, big and loud, and it quieted the rest of the unease he’d been feeling about how you were doing. When you were done, you leaned into his chest and just stood there. “I missed you so much,” you whispered.

“I missed you too,” he whispered back wrapping his arms around you. He took a deep breath, savoring the fact that you were there, in front of him, in his arms. Right now, he had you.

And then, of course, there was an impatient knock on the door. “I'll be right there!” you called out, then knocked your forehead against his shoulder, taking a deep fortifying breath.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “you're so good at this. No matter what, this is something you can do. I've always admired the way you handle this stuff. OK? You can do this.”

You sighed and nodded into his shoulder. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. You’d talked, a little, about how upset you’d both gotten the night before you’d left for New York. He couldn’t help but feel that maybe in his frustration and desperation and worry, he’d come on too strong. He knew you weren’t upset with him, but– “I just want you to be happy. No matter what that looks like, I just want to help you get there.”

You moved your head from where it was tucked into his shoulder so you could look him in the eye. “I know,” you said, gratefulness shining in your eyes. “If I know anything, I know that.” You kissed him again, short and soft and sweet. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

It was an odd experience, climbing into the back of your SUV instead of sitting with Jake in the front. Michelle sat in the middle row, acting pointedly cold to him. That was fine, honestly. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive her for the things she’d said when the news of your relationship broke. He didn’t know when he would be. You deserved better.

You were very quiet. He wanted to ask, again, about what was on your mind, but he didn’t want to do that with an audience. So he held your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, and didn’t move a muscle when you rested your head on his shoulder.

Curtis couldn’t stop fidgeting. He was sitting by himself on what he used to derisively think of as the boyfriend couch. Michelle was on the other couch, focused on emails as always, while Tanya hovered in the middle of the room. There were snacks and drinks laid out on the green room’s coffee table that he was welcome to now, but he hadn’t touched them. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, filling up the big TV on the wall as you chatted with one of the countless late-night Jimmy’s. You looked okay. A little stiff. A little tired. But that was probably only because he knew all the signs to look for.

You’d covered all the benign greetings and small talk and were now getting into the meat of the interview. Whichever Jimmy this was reached across his desk and held up a black paperboard-backed picture of you, twelve or thirteen years old, complete with braces and awkward pigtails. It was from that fucking show.

He saw the anxiety flash across your face, quickly followed by your cheerful mask, although he didn't think he imagined the way it was more strained than usual. Tanya saw it too, judging by the way she took a step forward.

Jimmy was blathering on about the recent influx of TV reunions and reboots and wouldn’t it be fun, wouldn't everyone just love it if there was some sort of reunion for this? The audience roared in agreement.

You forced a chuckle that wouldn't have fooled anyone, pure panic in your eyes. And then you looked directly into the camera and Curtis knew, he knew, that you were looking at him. He tried to send you all of his confidence, all of his support, all of his love. All of his certainty that however you wanted to handle this, you could do it.

He was fooling himself, he knew, but he was sure that you felt it, because in the next moment you took a deep breath, turned to Jimmy, and said, “No, I don't think so.”

Jimmy just gaped at you for a second, clearly taken aback by you suddenly not playing along. He tried to cover with a good-natured laugh and “What? Oh no! Why not?”

You didn't match his tone. You responded seriously, “I really hated making that show.” There were a few audible gasps from the audience, but you ignored them. “Everyone did. It was a miserable place to be. Everyone hated each other. Everyone fought all the time. For seven years! I was a child and no one protected me from that. I went to work every day, as a child, in the most toxic environment. But I was making money. So I guess it was ok.

“And now, god, it’s been ten years! And everyone just keeps bringing it up. It’s all anyone wants to talk to me about. And I just can’t talk about it anymore. I really can’t. I’m not gonna do it again. I’m done with that.”

“What the hell is she doing?” Tanya muttered next to Curtis, who was standing up now, unable to take his eyes off you. Whatever you were doing, it was incredible.

He could tell that the host wanted to break in, he kept looking wildly off-camera to someone for help, but you just kept talking. You wouldn’t stop.

“There’s just– There’s so much I don’t want to do anymore. I’m not doing ok, you know? I mean, you must know. It’s all over every gossip site. I’m not ok. I haven’t been ok for a very long time, maybe ever. But I just keep going forward in the same way, because that’s all I’ve ever done since I was a kid. That’s all I’ve known how to do. But I think– I think I’m done doing that now. I want to figure out how to be ok.”

Curtis took a step closer to the screen. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, deep pride filling his chest, “she’s doing it.”

“What is she doing, Curtis?” Tanya asked, somewhat hysterically.

He ignored her. He couldn’t see or hear anything other than you.

Back on the TV, Jimmy cleared his throat and opened his mouth, trying to somehow stop his show from careening wildly off the rails. But you put your hand up to stop him.

“Please, Jimmy, I know. You asked a simple question and you got all this instead,” you laughed, unabashed, and there it was. There you were. Curtis beamed at seeing it. “Just let me say this one last thing.” You looked directly into the camera again. “I– I am really proud of this movie. We worked really hard on it, and I hope you go see it.”

A laugh escaped Curtis. God, you were so good at this, knowing exactly what you were contractually obligated to do. He glanced quickly at the other end of the green room. Michelle was standing now too, her mouth wide open in shock, while Tanya looked like she might have a stroke.

“And I think–” you continued. ”I think it might be the last movie I do for a while. The last anything. We'll see.”

A wave of murmurs went through the studio audience. Curtis had fully forgotten they were even there during all this, they’d been so quiet since you’d really gotten going, just as enraptured by you as he was.

“Ok,” you said, with a sheepish smile. “That’s it. I’m– I’m done.” Then you stood, took off your mic pack, gently laid it on the chair, and walked off stage.

As Jimmy awkwardly threw to a commercial break, Curtis raced into the hallway. He walked towards the stage as fast as he could, intercepting you about halfway there, a lost-looking PA trailing behind you. You looked a little shell-shocked but good. You looked so fucking good.

He gently touched your face with both hands as soon as you were within reach. “Holy shit, that was incredible. You’re incredible. I can't believe you did that. I'm so fucking proud of you.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your voice a little shaky, your eyes a little watery. “I didn't– I wasn't planning to. But then he asked about the show and, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot about all of the things you're always telling me. About living my own life and what I'm worth. And I just thought, ‘What if I actually do what I want for once?’ And, yeah.” You shrugged.

“Fucking incredible,” Curtis whispered and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and a little desperate and so, so happy.

So of course it was cut short when Tanya called out your name. You both turned around to look at her standing at the end of the hall, looking harried. “What was that?! How on earth am I supposed to clean that up?!”

“Tanya,” you said, your voice shockingly calm and firm. “Stop. There's nothing to clean up. You're fired.”

It took everything inside of Curtis not to whoop with joy or pick you up and spin you around. But, shit, he wanted to. He really, really wanted to.

Your gaze moved to where Michelle stood behind Tanya. “Sorry, Michelle,” you said with a frown, “you too. I don't think I'll need a team or an assistant for a while.”

“You need to stop and think about this,” Tanya said, her tone placating.

“I already have. Thank you both, sincerely, for everything you've done for me, but it's time to try something new.” And then you grabbed Curtis’s hand and led him back down the hall.

You quietly got your things from the green room and changed your shoes, then brought Curtis outside through a side door, far away from where fans were gathered, expecting you to run into your SUV.

You took a deep breath as soon as you hit the fresh air. “I kind of just want to walk around for a while. That ok?”

“Yeah, whatever you want,” he said softly, squeezing your hand. There were a few hours before the show aired on the East Coast. A few hours, hopefully, before the bomb you’d just set fully exploded. A walk sounded nice.

You headed away from the studio and Curtis was content to follow your lead. You didn't say anything, which was fine. He figured you had a lot to process.

After several minutes, you let out a long, deep breath. “Holy shit. I can't believe I just did that. Holy shit, Curtis, I just quit!”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, carefully, wanting to make sure you weren't wracked with regret.

You took your time answering. Then finally, “So relieved. Just so fucking relieved.”

He stopped you from walking, using his grip on your hand to turn you to face him. “I hope you understand just how incredibly proud of you I am. How brave I think you are.”

“Curtis,” you said quietly, ducking your head, clearly overwhelmed.

“I mean it,” he said as he squeezed your hand and started walking again.

After several more minutes of companionable silence, you slowed down a little. “So, where do you think we should go?”

He shrugged and glanced around the area. “I don’t know. I could eat. Think you can get away with ducking into a burger place?”

You laughed and he stopped short at how nervous you sounded. “No, that’s not– I didn’t mean–” You shook your head and he turned so he was fully facing you. “I don’t know, it’s just– You said a year, remember? Back on my couch, you said I should take a year.” You were avoiding his eyes now, and you sounded so shy.

Your couch. That night, however many months ago. When you’d let him really see behind the mask, and he brushed his fingers against yours for the first time. As he realized what you were trying to ask him, the weight of it, the enormity of what you were offering, all he was able to do was whisper, “I remember.”

“Ok, well, I thought that maybe we could do that. Take a break. Go somewhere maybe, if there was somewhere you wanted to go.”

It took him a minute, as he was flooded with so many things—how much he loved you, how much he wanted to do for you, give to you, how happy he was in this moment—but once he found his voice, he gently grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Wherever you are,” he said, with the most conviction he thought he had ever said anything. He leaned in and kissed you. It was short and more chaste than he wanted, but he was too conscious of how out in the open you were. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. “Absolutely anywhere you are.”

You threw your arms around him and moved your head so your lips were right next to his ear. And then you said, so so softly, so that it was just for him, “I love you. I'm so in love with you.”

A warmth he didn’t think he’d ever felt before filled his whole chest. All he could do was just hold you, right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, murmuring in your ear just how much he loved you, too.

Eventually, you’d start walking again. You’d find a little restaurant to duck into for a bite to eat. He’d make you put your phone on speaker as you told Lloyd and Wilford they were fired. And you’d figure out what came next, where you would go, what the logistics of quitting actually entailed. Then you’d get an Uber home and show each other with your bodies just how much you cared.

But for now, he just wanted to hold you in the middle of the sidewalk.

I love you all. Thank you so much for reading. 💜

Tag List

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