#I can’t say I’ve seen EVERYTHING but I do not want to

[hoshifighting]

hellooo I just want to say that I like your blog, I really like your writing style🫶🏻🫶🏻 AND

what do you think about Vernon finding the reader's twitter spam account? at first, without saying anything, he follows her from a fake account and learns her fetishes and things like that. then he can't hold back and teasing the reader because of this situation and does all the things she reposts, all she wants and imagines(I honestly can't decide whether they will be friends or lovers and I leave it to you)

thank you very much in advance🩷🩷🩷🩷

when vernon finds out about your freaky tweets

WARNINGS: smut, face slapping, BIG DICK!VERNON, cock riding, mentions of hair pulling, dirty talk, choking.

it starts innocently enough; you’ve got your little spam account, this place where you post anything that comes to mind without a second thought. it’s private, anonymous—you’re safe, or so you think. until one day, you start noticing a new follower, someone with zero posts and a random handle, lurking in the notifications. you brush it off, figuring it’s just some bot. but vernon… well, vernon's been piecing things together. and one night, after reading one of your latest posts—something so NASTY that practically burned his screen—he decides he can't just pretend he hasn’t seen it. so he waits until you’re in the living room next saturday, all comfortable, maybe a little too comfortable. you look up, seeing him standing there with that little frown he gets when he's too stressed to understand something, a raised eyebrow, and his phone in his hand.

“so… ‘i just want him to hold me down and—’” he reads aloud, and you feel everything in you freeze up as he raises an eyebrow at you. “‘then pull my hair back so i can see his face… maybe, idk, slap me around a little?’ really, y/n?”

you scramble, trying to play it cool “vernon—wait, why—where’d you see that?”

“oh, i dunno. i’ve been following this account for a while. figured i’d wait until you posted something really crazy before bringing it up.”

you stammer, face going hot. “i—you didn’t have to read it out loud like that, jesus.”

“oh, come on,” he says, leaning in, crowding your space just enough to make you feel cornered “you can post it, but i can’t say it?”

you swallow hard “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d see it.”

“didn’t think i’d find out?” he echoes, voice dropping a little. “you know, all this time, i’ve been seeing these little things you like. i didn’t say anything because i thought you’d be embarrassed. but now…” he smirks, leaning back with a sigh, watching you. “now i think maybe i should give you some of what you’re so clearly craving.”

“vernon,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like he’s imagining every filthy thing you’ve ever posted.

he smirks, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh, don’t go all shy on me now. i’ve read what you want. all of it. let’s start with the basics, huh?” his hand trails down, tipping your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “you wanna ride me? why didn’t you just say so?”

you feel your heart pounding as he pulls you closer, he's practically purring as he goes, “or that other thing you posted—what was it? something about choking you?” he wraps his hand lightly around your throat, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin as he watches your reaction. “like this?”

you almost cant nod, you're melting, your breath coming short as he tightens his grip just enough to make you feel it “so pretty when you’re horny,” he murmurs, fingers pressing just a little more.

and when you shake your head, he grins, pulling you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him as his hands settle on your hips “guess i’ve gotta make up for all those little fantasies you’ve been hiding, huh?”

“you sure you can handle it?” he whispers, leaning in, lips brushing against your neck. “’cause i don’t think you really knew what you were asking for when you posted all that.”

but you nod, he tilts your head up, lips brushing over yours, and you feel his hand come up, palm grazing over your cheek before he slaps you—just a little, just enough to make you gasp. he chuckles when you moan, liquefying on his lap, fingers tilting your face back to him.

[...]

he’s already watching you with a azy smirk, eyes rolling sliighty as you sink down onto him, your thighs trembling as you struggle to take all of him in. and god, he’s big. you knew he would be—you’d guessed it a dozen times in all those reckless tweets, wondering just how good it’d feel, but feeling it now, it’s like all that teasing turned on you, stretching you almost too much, and every inch you take feels like a challenge.

“aww, look at you,” he coos, his hands resting on your hips, fingers rubbing little circles into your skin as you try to ease down, taking him deeper, even though it’s making your breath catch, making you whimper and shake. “what happened, baby? i thought you said you could handle it.”

you bite your lip, cheeks burning, and he chuckles, leaning in closer, voice low and teasing. “or maybe you just wanted me to be big so you could talk all that shit on your little account,” he murmurs, running his thumb over your lip. “all those tweets you made, talking about wanting me to be, what—eight, nine inches?” he grins, watching the way you flush, the way your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. “think you got what you wished for, hm?”

“shut up,” you manage to whisper, but it’s so breathless, your body clenching around him, and he laughs, hands guiding you down just a bit further, his hips lifting just a little to meet you, that makes you gasp, makes you try to pull back, but he keeps you there, fingers firm on your hips.

“no, no, let’s see you take it,” he whispers, voice rough with that soft teasing. “come on, baby. don’t tell me this is too much. you wanted all of it, right?”

you nod, trying to adjust, but it’s almost too much fr, too thick, too deep, and he watches you with those hooded eyes, savoring every single whimper you make. “it’s okay,” he says softly, almost soothing as he leans up to kiss you, but you can hear that cocky lilt in his tone. “you’re doing so good. even if you can’t take all of it… god, you’re trying, huh?”

and he’s right there, brushing his lips over your cheek, murmuring sweet, filthy encouragements into your ear as you sink down a little more, taking just a bit more of him, even though your body’s practically begging for a break. “that’s it… there you go. so good, baby. i’m impressed,” he purrs, hands trailing up your back. “i didn’t think you’d take even this much.”

every time you pause, every time your breath catches, he’s right there, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you, helping you ride him “guess you really wanted to know..” he murmurs, grinning as he watches you struggle, your head falling back as you finally take just a little more, his hands pulling you down hard against him until you can feel every inch of him.

“there it is… that’s my girl,” he whispers, in asatisfied rasp, his eyes dark as he watches you ride him, just as you’d dreamed about, exactly as you’d hoped—only now it’s even better.

[marsdql]

𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 :‹

Pairing: Boyfriend!Heeseung × girlfriend!fem!reader

Synopsis: Another heated argument with you and your boyfriend Heeseung, making it your last straw. You thought it was the end for a while after leaving, until one day..

Genre/warnings: angst to fluff, toxic relationship, a lot of back and forth, idk ok.. | wc: 2k

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: This has been in my drafts for a while so I had to let it out. I’ve been writing SOOO MUCH HEESEUNG FICS ITS CRAZY omg. I promise diff are coming I’m js so brain dead on what to write and I don’t get requests..😁 Jake ff coming out Friday nov15 for his birthday tho!! anyway go enjoy :>

The argument started innocently enough. You were waiting for Heeseung at a party you’d been planning to attend together, but he never showed. You called, texted, and waited for hours, but he never responded. When you finally got home and found him there, acting as if nothing had happened, something inside you snapped.

“What’s wrong with you?” you demanded, slamming the door behind you. “I waited for you all night, Hee! Do you know how embarrassing it was, standing there by myself while everyone kept asking where you were?”

He looked up from his phone, barely acknowledging your presence. “I told you I wasn’t sure if I could make it.”

“You told me you wanted to be there,” you shot back, anger rising in your chest. “But you didn’t even call, Heeseung! You just left me there, like I didn’t matter at all.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “Why are you making this such a big deal? It was just one night.”

“Because this isn’t the first time!” Your voice shook as you threw your bag onto the couch, barely able to contain your frustration. “You keep doing this—promising me you’ll show up, then bailing like it’s nothing. Do you even care about this relationship anymore?”

“Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. “You’re always turning everything into a personal attack.”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold back tears of frustration. “Maybe if you actually made an effort, I wouldn’t feel like I have to ‘attack’ you. I’m so tired of being the only one fighting to keep us together.”

Heeseung scoffed, throwing his phone down on the table. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re some saint here. You’re always complaining, always finding something wrong with what I do or don’t do. It’s exhausting.”

“Exhausting?” The word stung, and you felt a pang of anger so sharp it made you shake. “So you’re saying I’m exhausting?”

“Yeah, maybe you are,” he snapped, meeting your gaze with a hard look you’d never seen from him before. “Maybe this whole thing is just… too much. You’re always so needy, always wanting more. Maybe I can’t give you what you want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the words hitting harder than he knew. “Needy?” you repeated, voice trembling. “I don’t think it’s needy to want the person I love to actually show up for me. But maybe you’re right—maybe I’m asking too much from someone who clearly doesn’t care.”

“Oh, don’t twist this around like I don’t care,” he shot back. “I have my own life, my own problems. Everything doesn’t revolve around you.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re the one who’s been pulling away, Heeseung. You’re the one who’s been acting like I’m some burden you have to carry. I’m just asking you to meet me halfway, but you can’t even do that, can you?”

Heeseung’s expression hardened, and for a moment, you saw something cold flicker in his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to meet you halfway,” he said, each word cutting deeper than the last. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending like this is something it’s not.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart sinking as his words settled over you. “So… what, then? You’re tired of me?”

“Maybe I am,” he said, his tone bitter. “Maybe I’m tired of constantly being made to feel like I’m not enough, like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough for you.”

You felt your chest tighten, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your efforts to hold it back. “I just wanted you to try, Heeseung. To actually care enough to make an effort.”

“And I just wanted you to stop making me feel like a failure,” he shot back, his voice raising. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to constantly feel like you’re not measuring up? You keep pushing and pushing, and it’s like nothing I do will ever be enough for you.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” you yelled, feeling your anger and heartbreak twisting together into something raw and painful. “Why did you let me keep believing that you wanted this, that you wanted us?”

“Because I thought I did,” he said, voice cracking as he looked away. “But lately… I don’t know. Maybe we’ve both just been holding on to something that isn’t there anymore.”

His words shattered something deep inside you, a pain so intense it felt almost physical. You took a shaky breath, struggling to find the right words. “So that’s it?” you whispered. “You’re just… giving up?”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, but he didn’t move toward you. “I’m just… tired of hurting you,” he said quietly. “And tired of feeling like I’m the problem. I can’t keep doing this.”

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of him standing there, so calm, as if he hadn’t just destroyed everything you’d built together. “Fine,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “If that’s how you feel… then maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this.”

For a moment, you thought he might say something, that he might reach out, try to fix the damage that had been done. But he didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just watched as you picked up your things and turned toward the door.

“Goodbye, Heeseung,” you said, your voice barely audible as you walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you had been holding on to a version of him that no longer existed, a love that had withered in the space between unmet expectations and unspoken resentments. And the realization hurt more than anything he could have said, because now you knew that sometimes love simply isn’t enough.

Weeks had passed since that night, but the pain still sat heavy in your chest, a constant reminder of the words you both threw like daggers. You had told yourself it would get easier—that eventually, you’d stop replaying the fight over and over, picking apart every sentence, wondering if you could have said or done something differently.

But every time you closed your eyes, you could still see him standing there, looking at you with that mixture of anger and something else—something you couldn’t name.

Tonight, you found yourself sitting in a quiet café, stirring a mug of coffee you hadn’t touched. You’d come here hoping the change of scenery would help, but all it did was bring memories crashing back, drowning you in thoughts you had been trying so hard to escape. And then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, the doorbell chimed, and there he was.

Heeseung.

He hadn’t seen you yet, and you almost turned away, almost gathered your things to leave before he noticed. But some part of you—maybe it was the part that hadn’t stopped missing him, the part that still ached for him despite everything—stayed rooted in place.

As if sensing your presence, Heeseung looked up, his eyes widening slightly when they met yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, both frozen in the shared silence. Finally, he took a breath and walked over, his steps hesitant, as if he, too, was unsure of how this would go.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered, almost as if he were afraid of breaking something fragile.

“Hi,” you replied, your own voice barely above a whisper.

He sat down across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just sat in silence, both unsure of where to start. The tension was thick, memories of the fight still hanging heavily between you.

“I… I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” you replied, your tone guarded.

Heeseung looked down at the table, then back up at you, his eyes searching yours. “I’ve been thinking about… that night. About the things we both said.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “Me too,” you admitted, voice trembling.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know that’s probably hard to believe after everything, but… I never wanted things to end up like that.”

“Then why did you let it get to that point?” you whispered, the hurt and confusion you’d been carrying pouring out before you could stop it. “Why didn’t you just talk to me, Heeseung? Why did you make me feel like I was the problem?”

He sighed, looking down at his hands. “Because… because I didn’t know how to tell you that I was struggling. I thought I was supposed to handle everything on my own, and I didn’t want to burden you with my issues. But in trying to protect you, I pushed you away, and that’s on me.”

His admission cracked something open inside you, and you felt a surge of conflicting emotions—relief, sadness, anger. “I would’ve been there for you, Heeseung. All I wanted was to be there for you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I realize that now. I just… I guess I was scared. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared of letting you see the parts of me that I’ve always tried to hide.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you didn’t bother to wipe it away. “You didn’t have to be perfect for me, Heeseung. I never wanted that. I just wanted you.”

He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over yours, and for a moment, you thought he might pull back. But then, slowly, he took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, warm and familiar.

“I don’t know if I can fix what I broke,” he said quietly, his eyes full of regret. “But… if there’s still a part of you that wants to try, I’d do anything to make it right.”

You looked down at his hand, the memories of all the times you’d held each other, all the promises you’d once shared. Part of you wanted to say yes, to let yourself fall back into the warmth of him, to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

But another part of you remembered the pain—the nights spent wondering if you were enough, the feeling of constantly fighting to hold onto someone who kept slipping away.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Heeseung,” you said, voice breaking. “You hurt me so much. I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, desperation flashing in his eyes. “I know I messed up, and I know it might take a long time to earn back your trust. But if there’s even the smallest part of you that thinks we could make this work… I promise I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Silence settled between you, thick with emotion, as you weighed his words. You knew that forgiveness wouldn’t come easily, that the scars from that night would always be there, etched into your heart. But looking at him now, at the vulnerability in his eyes, you saw a glimpse of the Heeseung you’d fallen in love with—the one who had once made you feel like you were his whole world.

Taking a shaky breath, you met his gaze. “If we do this… it can’t be like before. We both have to be honest with each other, even when it’s hard. No more hiding, no more pretending.”

He nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. “I promise,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “No more hiding.”

Slowly, cautiously, you let yourself smile, a small glimmer of hope flickering in your chest. It would be a long road, full of challenges and doubts, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

And this time, you’d fight for each other—together.

Reblogs and feedback appreciated, thank u ! DIVIDER CREDITS: @anitalenia

[ marsdql ]

[jsbluu]

left on seen | chapter 15: two to one (to two)

➨ chapter 14: she said yes! | left on seen masterlist | next

➨ chapter 15! it’s getting cray.. so many things happening.. what’s going on.. also progress guys..

TAGLIST: @ldh0000 @bococostree @sunghoonsgfreal @dinonuguaegi @ddolbyong @4chensungs @vixensss @jirsungs @luffysprincess @nosungluv @akunoeyebrows @sinsgaybutthatsokay @joyzluvr @n0hyuck @mrsbyun-baek @queenrachelpink @botchedbrat @livingdoll-hara @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @17ericas

you sat across from leehan in a restaurant that was way too fancy for your own comfort, but he was way too nice to pass up the offer. you nervously play with the hem of your top, any much longer and you would’ve ripped the lace. you could tell you weren’t the only nervous one, as leehan fidgeted with the menu, seemingly pretending to read it for the 100th time.

he cleared his throat in an attempt to break the silence between you two. “so, have you ever been here before?” he asked, almost immediately regretting the cliche question.

you shake your head, “no, this is my first time actually. i’ve never even heard of this place before.” you smile, “have you?”

“only twice, i actually came with mark a few months ago after he played a show.” he replies.

you tilt your head in confusion, “that show we went to a few weeks ago wasn’t his first?”

he shakes his head and takes a sip of his water before replying. “no, he’s been doing this since freshmen year actually. he wasn’t really getting anywhere and wanted to quit but jisung was the one who changed his mind, and look at him now.”

you can’t help but smile to yourself when you learn how sweet jisung really is. even though he was so quiet and shy, his friends clearly meant everything to him and you admired that more than you could admit.

just as you two started to ease into a comfortable conversation, the server approached with your food in hand. “here you are!” she said as the placed the plates of food in front of you two.

“let me know if you need anyth-“ before she could finish, her hand hit leehan’s cup of water causing it to spill all over his shirt and pants. your eyes widen and your hands cover your mouth as the server profusely apologizes.

“i’m so sorry!!” she exclaimed, horrified as she hands leehan paper towels from her pockets.

he stands up and laughs a bit before looking at you defeated, his hands on his hips as he looks down at his soaked outfit. “are you okay?” you ask concerned.

he sighs, trying to maintain his composure and hold his embarrassment in the best he could and pretend like the entire restaurant wasn’t staring at you two. “i’m okay, just a little.. wet” he says with a small smile. “i think i need to go change, i only live 5 minutes away. do you mind?”

you shake your head, “of course not! go change, i’ll be here” you reassure, feeling a mixture of sympathy and awkwardness.

he gives you an apologetic nod and he quickly leaves the restaurant and jogs his way towards his dorm. you sit back awkwardly against the booth as you wait for him to return.

you sigh and put your phone down on the table, staring at the 2 full plates of food in front of you. the tension and anxiety only increasing by the moment, now it really looks like you got stood up. you debated asking gaon to come to the restaurant to eat, but you knew he was busy and by the time he would get there, it would already be too late.

“y/n?” a voice calls from the left of you. you look up and see jisung standing beside you, his hands in his pockets concealing them from the cold weather outside.

“jisung? how did you..” you ask, genuinely concerned.

“i didn’t know you were here i swear! i came to eat alone, and i saw you sitting with.. wait where’s leehan?” he says as he points to the empty seat in front of you.

you sigh before turning back to jisung, awkwardly shifting in your seat. “our server accidentally spilled some water on him, so he said he’d was gonna go back to the dorms to change real quick. but then he said he said he got on the wrong train so now i’m.. here alone”

“again?” he asks, holding back a laugh through puffed cheeks.

you look at him confused, what did he mean by that?. had this happened before? or was this just an excuse to leave you alone in the restaurant. it’s not like you cared that much, this was a friendly date after all. at least that’s what you were hoping he would think.

“what do you mean ‘again?’”

he lets out a small awkward laugh when he realizes it wasn’t as funny to you as he thought it was. he knows you’re a shy person as well, so being in this situation was definitely not fun for you.

“he’s gotten on the wrong train i don’t know how many times before.. it gives me second hand embarrassment honestly” he jokes, trying to ease the tension that he created.

your shoulders relax again as jisung’s explains what he meant, leehan was truely just that clumsy.

an awkward silence fills the space between you two, jisung’s hands tucked back into his pockets as he shifts his weight back and forth between his feet.

“are you gonna stay here alone..?” he asks breaking the silence, his brow furrowed and voice raised with concern.

you shrug, fidgeting with your napkin and moving your gaze from him to the table. “i guess so” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

jisung’s eyes linger on you before taking a deep breath, hesitantly speaking. “i could keep you company..”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you bite your bottom lip. it wouldn’t be wrong, right? i mean leehan did leave you here alone, and it’s not like you were interested in him romantically. besides, it’s not even a date, he’s just sitting with you, that’s all.

“i- are you sure? you really don’t have to.” you reply quietly, shaking your head.

his face falls but he quickly recovers before replying. “i’d feel bad making you sit here alone.” he reassures.

you give him a small smile before nodding, “okay.”

he gives you a small smile before sitting in leehan’s spot, luckily the food was still warm somehow. it took a while but you two eventually got over the awkward tension and were able to have an actual conversation, much different than the ones you’ve had before. this time you didn’t have anybody interrupting you or getting in the way.

the restaurant eventually started to empty out, and only then had you realized how late it had gotten. you glanced down at your phone and read the time, 9:56. jisung noticed the time as well and laughed quietly “it’s already gonna be 10, i didn’t realize we lost track of time”

you nodded, feeling reluctant for the night to end. “yeah, i guess we did.”

you hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and speaking. “thank you for keeping me company, i’m definitely not going to go on another date with him again.” you giggle.

he laughs back and shakes his head, silently grateful that whatever was going on between you and leehan was pretty much over. “don’t worry, i didn’t mind.”

he looked down at the table before looking up at you with an unreadable expression.

“can i have your number?”

© jsbluu | please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work.

[experimentalmadness]

The Last of Regret

A little Emmrich/Rook fluff near the end of the game. I thought a certain moment could have used some more power so I gave it a go. We do love seeing a slightly more disheveled and panicked Emmrich, after all.

I'm being a bit vague on details because it contains massive endgame spoilers if you haven't finished the game. Suffice to say. If you want some good Emmrich and Rook hurt/comfort and angsty fluff, I've got what you need.

There was no air here. 

No sound. Not even the whisper of wind. 

All color had lost its saturation. 

There was no warmth, nor was it cold. And still Sivan shivered, hugging herself. This was not like the rest of the Fade. And this was all there was. All that there was ever going to be. Forever. One long endless looping staircase with only the dead for company. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, eyes closed. She couldn’t feel if she was crying. Her heart hurt, but all sensation had lost its bite. She wished she could cry. Or scream. How long had she been walking in circles?

Varric told her she had to let go. She had to accept what had happened, but how could she when this was all her fault? She should have stopped Varric from confronting Solas, she should never have sent Harding out with such a small team, and Bellara….she hadn’t been fast enough. She should have caught her, should have chopped off the blight tendril before it had snatched her away. 

Too late now. She was just some stupid city elf up against literal gods. Why did she think she could win? She was never good for anything. She’d failed Varric, failed her own city, failed…oh no. No, she couldn’t think of Emmrich. Not now. If she thought about him she’d sink to the ground and never get up again. 

C’mon kid, what did I just say?

”It’s too hard!” She cried. “I’m not ready!”

No one’s ever ready, but you can’t stay here. 

Varric wasn’t really here. It was only in her head. All of it had only ever been in her head. Stupid, stupid; should have known Solas would play tricks on her. Should have seen it coming. But the part of her that could hear Varric knew he was right. She couldn’t stay here. Even if she couldn’t defeat the gods she couldn’t fade away in this prison. A clean death, a good death in a fight, that was the way to go. Not disappearing like this. 

As if tugging her boots through swamp mud, Sivan made herself climb the endless looping stairs. She did not look up. It would be Harding’s face again, Varric’s, Bellara’s, even her own parents’ and she couldn’t face them. Couldn’t let them see her like this. Failure, worthless, mistake…

I thought I felt it over here!

The sound was far away. “Lucanis?” Just another memory, another lie. 

It’s faint, but he’s definitely on to something.

”Neve?”

Sivan stopped, looking around. But the expanse was as gray and devoid of life as ever. Maybe that was all there was. Echoes. But her heart stirred. 

The Fade is distinctly thin here.

”Emmrich?!” There was no mistaking it that time. She had heard his voice. Bright, with his usual encouragement, but with a note of unmistakable panic that sent her running up the rapidly forming fade-steps. “Emmrich!” 

Did you hear that?

That was Davrin! She could hear them! It wasn’t just the hollow sorrow eating her alive. 

The Fade shimmered ahead and Sivan felt air in her lungs for the first time. A sheen of white glinted against the gray. Just like the small Fade tears she had seen so many times before. There was hope here, fragile and wild and oh it was so good to feel something, anything outside of the crushing regret. 

She went running into the white tear and the solid arms that caught her. 

I’ve got her!

We’ve all got her. Pull!

Sivan spilled out into the bright light. Her heartbeat resumed in her ears, the blood in her veins moved again, and she could feel. Everything. The colors of the Lighthouse almost made her shield her eyes. Her lungs felt as if they would burst. 

But she was out. 

On the crumbling courtyard stones. 

And she was certain she was alive. 

“Rook!” Davrin laughed in astonishment and it was such a good sound, such a pure sound. 

It was then she realized the arms around her had not let her go, but were in fact squeezing ever tighter. “Darling, my darling…”

Sivan wrapped her still nerveless arms as tight as she could around Emmrich. He was real. Her hands went over the back of his coat, up to his jaw, her fingers skimming through his gray hair. He was here. She kissed him even though she knew how particular he was when it came to public displays of affection. She didn’t care. She had to feel him, had to make sure this wasn’t another one of Solas’ endless tricks. 

He returned her kiss with such fervor she was grateful she was already kneeling on the cobblestones. Her eyes spilled over with tears. He crushed her to him as if needed to check if she was as much a reality as she herself doubted. She didn’t care if she couldn’t breathe. 

“Think we could give ‘em some fucking privacy?” Sivan could have laughed at Taash’s words but her mind was far too jumbled. Everything was so bright, so loud, so solid. 

But Emmrich was all warmth and safety and familiarity. Already he pressed light kisses against her cheeks, the tip of her nose, under each eyelid, and with each she felt a little more real. “Extraordinary as ever, dearest,” he said softly. “Only you could return from the very Void itself.” 

“A prison,” she gasped, trying to order her thoughts. How to even begin to explain? “For the gods. Solas…he…”

”Breathe,” Emmrich commanded gently, a hand on either side of her face. “Slowly.”

His dark eyes were welcoming, guiding—was he crying? She flailed in a poor attempt to reach out for him again, but he held her still. His chest rose and fell in a deep rhythm that she felt compelled to mimic. The tightness in her lungs eased in pieces. Emmrich brushed the curls from her eyes and when she felt less like she was choking she let herself relax against him, tucking her head under his chin. 

“Darling, should I take us inside? You would be far more comfortable if—“

”No,” Sivan said against his coat, burrowing as deeply as she could, curling around herself. “Stay. Please.”

”But you’re shivering.”

”No’m not.” Her teeth chattered. 

“Rook, it is a delight to have you contradict me again, even though I admit I have no desire to let you go as yet,” Emmrich said with a laugh that sounded so tired, so grateful. “I thought that I might not…that—to have the last things we said to one another be that horrid argument…”

Sivan reached up and placed a tentative finger against his lips. “Love you too much to care about that.”

“What?” 

Her dear man looked so shocked. And how Sivan adored those looks of bewilderment when she would sneak in a compliment here and there. His tear-stained eyes went wide. “Was scared to say that before, too,” she admitted. “Everyone I ever loved, they’ve…”

It was his turn now to stop her thoughts from spirling. The blanket void of regret was going to be hard to shake, Sivan realized with a pang. 

Emmrich hushed her, his fingertips skating down her cheek. She knew when he was studying her. His deep look of intent and awe stilled some of her shivering. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it so suddenly. Stupid! She should have planned it out better. Made some sort of occasion out of it as he no doubt would have.

“Say it again, dearest. Please.”

His faint, pleading voice undid the last string of regret tied about her heart. Sivan smiled. “I love you.”

Emmrich swallowed up her words with a kiss that nearly knocked her backwards. Heat pooled within her as she tried to match him. This, oh this was never something she would ever take for granted. The sterile edges of what that prison had done to her sloughed off. 

“To think you lost only to hear you say that,” Emmrich said as Sivan rubbed her forehead to his, taking comfort in simply sharing the same breath. “You truly are indomitable, Rook. One of the many reasons I love you, too.”

Her face hurt from smiling. When was the last time she’d heard those words? When was the last time anyone had ever loved her? Ghosts now, all ghosts, but Emmrich was here. Alive. And wholly hers. 

“I think I can stand now,” she said. Her body was still shaking, but from something other than grief. 

“Then I will help you up, my love.”

[bi-bi-buckleys]

Here’s a quick fic I wrote when I was meant to be working. I refuse to accept this new version of Maddie the writers are trying to sell us. Posting before the episode airs so I can live in denial a little longer ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maddie had just walked out of her favorite local cafe with a modified version of her favorite latte (decafe, low fat sugar free vanilla, ugh) when she sees someone familiar sitting at one of the outdoor tables to her right.

“Tommy!”

Maddie forgot. Just for a second. Just for the split second it took her to say his name. Oh right. You’re not dating my brother anymore.

Oops.

Tommy looks at her like a deer in headlights. He recovers quickly enough and stands from the table.

“Hey, Maddie! How are you?” He’s trying to sound chipper, but after he hugs her she sees the sadness haunting his eyes.

“I’m doing well, how are you?”

“I’m….I’m ok.”

It’s a lie and they both know it.

“How’s Ev-Buck?”

“Heartbroken. Baking every time he thinks to call you. His fridge is packed.”

Tommy smiles sadly and Maddie feels a stab of guilt for telling her brother to move on. She thought Tommy left because he didn’t love Buck, but that’s not the feeling she’s getting right now.

“He asked me to move in with him. But he never said he loved me. He said he admired me.” Tommy blurts out like he hasn’t had a chance to really talk about it.

“Oh.” She didn’t know that part.

“Yeah. And the thing is, I love him. So much. I would love him to be my forever. He’s sweet, and funny, and smart, and ridiculous, and even covered in boils he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s everything to me. But how can I commit to moving in with a man who asks me to move in because he admires me? Because what happens when he realizes he doesn’t love me the same way I love him? It wouldn’t just break my heart, Maddie: it would destroy it.”

Maddie can’t see through the tears in her eyes. She’s never heard anyone talk so earnestly about loving her little brother before. She can tell Tommy really means it. He broke both of their hearts that night.

“Sometimes my brother thinks that by saying one thing, the other thing is implied. He gets ahead of himself. I’m sure you’ve noticed that, for as smart as he is, his train of thought can be kinda all over the place.”

Tommy laughs, but it's sad and full of just how much he misses Buck.

“He says he can see a future with you, and I’ve never heard him say that before. He also said your happiness is as important to him as his own. Tommy, he wants to call you so bad but he’s terrified of you turning him down again. He’s been hurt before, but I’ve never seen him this miserable. You should talk to him. I’m not saying move in with him, but I think you should hear what he has to say. And I think you should believe him.”

“Is he working right now?”

“Nope. Last I heard he was making a pineapple upside down bundt cake.”

“Wow.”

“I know. Seriously, his fridge is packed. It’s concerning.”

“Thanks, Maddie. I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Maddie gives him a hug and watches as he practically runs to his car. She laughs and wipes the tears from her eyes. She starts to think that maybe the universe did give her brother his special person after all.

~~~

Later she gets a call

“So you talked to Tommy?” Buck whispers.

“I did. I told him to talk to you.”

“What happened to ‘move on’?”

“That was before he told me all the things he loves about you and that ‘even covered in boils, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Buck gives a small laugh, and she can tell he’s blushing. “He uh, h-he really said that?”

“Yes he did. Word for word. So, did you talk?”

“Yeah we uh- we talked. For a long time. About everything.” His voice was even quieter now, but she could hear his happiness.

She knows the answer before she asks, “Why are you whispering?”

“Because Tommy’s asleep next to me.” Maddie can practically see the smile on his face.

“I’ll let you get some sleep, too then.”

“Yeah, I think I probably should,” Buck laughs and Maddie rolls her eyes at the wink wink tone of his voice.

“Goodnight, Evan.”

“Night, Maddie. Oh, uh hey…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After they hang up, Maddie can’t stop smiling. Knowing her brother is happy and loved by someone who was willing to put his heart on the line for him. Someone who loves him so much it scares him. Someone who realizes what he walked away from, and went back despite knowing it could end in pain.

Yeah. She’s pretty certain Tommy is Buck’s special person.

[mania-sama]

this is the FIRST time i’ve seen somebody talk about Come Morning Light online and i’m here to spread the CML AGENDA okay. when OP said that this fic is their All The Young Dudes, i can TESTIFY. this fanfic is so criminally not talked about in this fandom and i need that to change right now.

it’s 350k words of pure GENIUS. you want a nuclear fallout? i can get you a nuclear fallout. in fact, i can give you everything in the nuclear fallout. one of the first problems they deal with is acid rain, and then all of their food going bad due to the toxins in the air and water. do you want all of the ways people form groups that are malicious and awful under the guise of salvation. i can get you that. i can get you a town that murders and robs each other at night while playing nice during the day. i can get you human trafficking. i can get you a camp that sends you on a train that takes you to your grave. do you want characters dying in unique ways? i can get you a character falling off a cliff after saying he no longer wants to die. i can get you a character dying of hypothermia.

it isn’t all sad. much of it is. much of it is about how far we are willing to go for the ones we love. it is about seeing a melted body in the water and choosing to hold your best friend close, covering his eyes and asking him to tell you about his “family” to distract him. it’s about hitting your best friend over the head to keep him from tearing apart a house to look for his family that is surely already dead. it is about hosting radio shows, traveling miles, picking up strays, learning how to communicate when one can’t talk and the other has too many fingers lost for normal sign language. it is about learning to love, learning to let go, and learning when to hold on.

fucking love this fic. also, the “general” for relationships is a little misleading. all of the featured relationships are one kiss away from being canon it’s actually kind of painful at times

some of my top haikyuu fanfictions (ranked accordingly)

Come Morning Light (354k) by SharkbaitSekki is the saddest, most devastating fic i have ever read. If you like gen fics, karasuno family, and angst, this genuinely hit all those boxes and more for me and changed my life because I read those sexy 350k words in less than 24 hours when i was 13 yrs old and i haven't ever forgotten this fic. I promise the premise is kinda intimidating and all but i swear to GOD this is my atyd. this is my in another life. this is my roman empire

the future is female (85k) by earlgray_milktea is the cutest, but at the same time one of the most satisfying fics i've ever read. just a completely enjoyable and investing fic all the way, and again the premise does sound kinda trope-y and all but this fic is so fun! and smart and clever and important! yes it is basically hinata as a girl posing as a boy just to be taken seriously in the volleyball scene, but it goes about it in such a smart way and! it stretches all the way from the start to the post-timeskip of haikyuu (but it's not a super long read).

national hot dad alliance is now calling... (58k) by dicaeopolis, owlinaminor is probably a fic you've seen before, and if you haven't read it it probably means you hate chatfics and think they're dumb but i PROMISE this fic is singlehandedly the most hilarious thing i have ever read. 58k doesn't sound extremely long, but this dumb silly thing lasted me so long because i would just read a bit whenever i needed a laugh, more than that it was also lowkey so sad towards the end and it didn't need to be, but it really adds to the completeness of this fic and i love it

chasing gold (45k) by skiecas is gonna be, like, the only fic here with hardcore romance and some sus bits that you can honestly just skip. Premise is basically Iwaoi throughout the years since highschool with a focus on the olympics, specifically; and i'm currently posting this at the time of the paris olympics szn, so if you're feeling festive, this is the fic! i also love when romance fics expand on the world around them, and this fic does exactly that with other characters' involvement and the overall amazingly fun, dramatic and grand backdrop of the olympics. such a good fic!

Come Back (25k) by Soralith deserves to be a STAPLE of haikyuu fanfiction, right up there with those mofos in another life and the galaxy is endless. why? well, it hits all the boxes - slash (kagehina), angst, DEATH, made me sob uncontrollably. read this guys its sad lol

[tooosterduos]

I knew there was something about you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!ex-vigilante!reader

Warnings: ANGST!!!, swearing, reader is sorta bitch?, not a happy ending! Not proofread

A/n: the people voted so here’s the Jason fic! Unfortunately I don’t know how to write gutting wrenching angst but enjoy!

Rain tapped against the picture window of Jason and your shared apartment. It was 3:30 am and you had been up all night waiting for him to come home from “patrol”

“Patrol my ass.” You muttered as the clock struck 3:30. The door creeped open at 3:35, making your heart jump as you were quite invested in the book you were reading.

“You’re home late.” You spoke softly, trying not to anger the man in front of you. The two of you had been going through a rough patch the past few months, you thought it would rollover..but when it hit 6 months, you started preparing for the worst.

“Yeah patrol took longer and I expect.” He deadpanned, removing his jacket from his broad shoulders, hanging it onto the standing coat hanger, next to your front door.

“Mhm.” You hummed, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He growled lowly. “Well I’ll tell you what it means. You reek of alcohol, your uniform is no where to be seen, and your hair has obviously been combed. You could’ve told me you were going to the bar.” You replied keep your tone steady, not wanting to give into his antics that were to come.

“Stop doing that.” He snarled at you again, “doing what?” You asked innocently. You knew exactly what he meant, you were reading his mind..quite literally.

“Stop using my mind against me!” He snapped, finally sick of your “bullshit” as he would call it. “I have no privacy with you!” He continued, “Oh baby, privacy left the room a while ago. Privacy left when you asked me to marry you. Privacy left when we started sleeping in the same bed. Privacy is nonexistent in this house.” You growled back.

Now you both were just making each other angrier. “Then maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me if you’re just gonna act like this.” He snapped at you again.

Your chest ached, how could he say something like that? At the end of the day, no matter how much the two of you argued, you still loved him. If he was gonna go low, you were going lower.

“Was she at least pretty?” You question, “what?” He asked quietly. “I said, was she at least pretty.” you said repeating yourself, “what are you talking about?” he rolled his eyes with that sentence.

“Jason..I’m not stupid.” you retorted. “Don’t act like that. As if you haven’t cheated on me!” He yelled, “I haven’t! Why would you even say that!” you asked, your voice small and laced with hurt.

Jason knew how to piss you off, and he was doing everything in his power not to scream at you. You knew deep down that it was the alcohol in his system that was making him act like this. You knew deep down he would never treat you like this, no matter how mad he was at you.

Something more significant was making him act like this. However no matter how hard you searched, you couldn’t find what it was. 

You snapped back into reality, staring at him, hurt. Tears brimming your eyes. It took everything in you to not run from your current situation.

Jason’s eyes softened as he stared at you, realizing the damage he’d done. He crept towards your quivering body. “No.” You stated as you watched him creep closer towards you.

“Listen..I’m sorry.” He stated softly, reaching out his arms toward you. You were quick to move away from his grasp. “I’m sorry doesn’t cut it Jason. I’ve had enough of this! Constant arguing! Over stupid things!” You yelled, struggling to get the words out as tears ran down your face.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind, I know I should’ve told you. I know I should’ve been more open instead of being an asshole and taking my anger out on you.” he spoke gently again, you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

Your heart and body however, couldn’t forgive him. Not tonight at least. “I’m sorry but I can’t forgive you, not tonight at least.” You said as you wiped a tear from your face, walking towards your bedroom.

Jason didn’t dare to follow, you came back out a few minutes later with a pillow, blanket, and a pair of clean clothes for in the morning.



[galaxywarp]

sorry if this is overstepping boundaries or anything but...I've seen you ask if you deserve sleep/rest quite a few times recently and it makes me worry, because the answer is always yes. Yes, you deserve to rest, you deserve sleep. Its something as vital to your health as breathing or eating and there is no "deserving" it. Sleep is not a privilege. Rest is not something you need to earn. Your body is quite literally going to break down at some point if you deprive yoursef of it. There is no morality to sleeping. There is nothing wrong with resting. There is nothing you could do or be to justify depriving yourself of the right to rest and recover.

I appreciate you saying this. Really. I need the reminder a lot. I mean, on some logical level I know all of this stuff. But as I get more and more tired I also get more and more anxious and start listening to my paranoia and guilt lol….

……I think I still have some shit I need to work through about all of the years that I abused meth to avoid sleeping so that I could be awake literally 24/7 working on a million projects and also graduating college and also working a full time job.

I was obsessed with how that felt. I could do anything and everything. I never needed to stop. I could be awake for days or weeks on end and then rest MAYBE a few hours and do it all over again. I mean, I started rapidly losing my mind and experiencing psychotic breakdowns, but I didn’t need to sleep!!!

I was a machine. Clean, efficient, productive machine …..

….sighs. It’s not sustainable. I know it’s not. I really know it’s not cuz I almost died numerous times trying to sustain it.

I get tastes of how that used to feel when im manic. Even without dangerous amounts of amphetamines, im bipolar and I have manic episodes. I can still find myself awake for days trying to work on things and I get frustrated and upset because I can’t artificially force myself to stay awake with drugs anymore…..

I think maybe I feel weak sometimes, in those moments. For my body breaking down on me after I’ve pushed it so hard. When I WANT to keep going, but I literally can’t.

…..euh. I’ve run out of things to say.

Thank you for caring.

Thanks for letting me vent a bit.

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST BRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 8

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 8: | I LIKE HIM |

warnings: unprotected sex

In the fading light of evening, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron house, your heart heavy with worry and determination. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in your chest ever since Rafe’s encounter with Barry. There were so many unanswered questions swirling in your mind, and the only person who could give you any clarity was Sarah. You needed to know what was going on with her and the Pogues, what trouble they might be getting into, and how it was affecting her.

When Rose greeted you at the door, she smiled warmly, her expression light and carefree—completely unaware of the turmoil you knew was brewing beneath the surface. “Sarah’s in her room,” she told you, and you nodded, making your way upstairs with a sense of urgency.

You knocked on Sarah’s door, your hand trembling slightly. “Come in,” she called, her voice muffled through the wood. You pushed the door open and found her sprawled out on her bed, her face illuminated by the glow of her phone screen. She looked up at you, a smile breaking across her face.

“Hey, I wanted to come over. We haven’t seen each other for two days,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual, but there was a slight tremor in your voice that you couldn’t hide.

“I know. I’ve been with John B a lot,” Sarah replied, her tone light, almost distracted.

“Yeah, I heard.” You paused, the next words catching in your throat. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “What was that about you and the Pogues stealing from drug dealers?”

Sarah’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in surprise and confusion. “How do you know about that?”

You hesitated, the truth lingering on your tongue, but you knew you couldn’t lie to her. “I was wit—um..” You stopped yourself, the words caught in your throat. Then, with a deep breath, you pushed through, deciding to tell her everything, no matter how she reacted. “I was with Rafe.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, her expression shifting from confusion to shock. “You were with Rafe?!”

“Yeah, I was,” you admitted, standing your ground, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling in your chest. There was a hint of defiance in your tone, a subtle pride in the fact that you weren’t hiding your relationship with him anymore, that you weren’t afraid to admit it, even to her.

“What were you doing with Rafe?” Sarah asked, her voice laced with disbelief. You could see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together what you were saying with what she knew of her brother.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, then decided to just rip off the Band-Aid. “I slept with him.”

The shock on Sarah’s face was immediate and palpable, her eyes widening as if you had just slapped her. “You what?”

“You heard me right, Sarah.” Your voice was steady, resolute. You weren’t going to repeat yourself, weren’t going to back down.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief and something that almost sounded like betrayal. “Did he—did he pressure you to do it? He must’ve—”

“No.” You cut her off, your voice firm. You needed her to understand, needed her to know that this was your choice, not something Rafe had pushed you into. “I wanted it as much as he did.”

Sarah shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. She looked away, her fingers twisting in the bed sheets as if she were trying to find some sense of normalcy, some anchor in the chaos you’d just dropped on her. “I can’t believe you.”

You were about to respond when you noticed her gaze shift over your shoulder, her eyes widening in surprise and fear. “John B. What are you doing here?”

You turned, your heart lurching in your chest as you saw John B standing in the doorway. His expression was hard, his eyes cold and determined, but what caught your attention—what made your blood run cold—was the gun in his hand.

You gasped, your breath catching in your throat. “John B, why do you have a gun?”

“Did you tell your dad about the gold?” he asked Sarah, his voice tense, his grip on the gun tightening. There was something desperate in his eyes, something frantic.

“Where’s that coming from?” Sarah asked, her voice wavering, her eyes locked on the gun. You could see the fear in her expression, the confusion. She was scared, and so were you.

“Answer the question,” John B pressed, his voice cold and unyielding.

“About the gold? No.” Sarah shook her head, her voice trembling. “No, of course not.”

“Then how’d he know, huh?” John B’s voice rose, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “How did he know?” He grabbed Sarah’s arm, pulling her towards him, his face inches from hers. She gasped, her eyes wide with fear and shock.

“John B, you’re scaring me,” she whispered, her voice breaking, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Is life outside the Bubble Wrap scary to you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with bitterness. He was shaking, his emotions teetering on the edge of control.

Before you could react, Ward’s voice echoed through the house, shouting Sarah’s name. John B’s head snapped up, his grip tightening on Sarah as he began to pull her towards the door.

“Hey, where are you taking her?!” you asked, panic surging through you as you watched him drag her away.

“Stay out of this!” John B hissed, his voice sharp, the threat clear in his eyes. You froze, your feet rooted to the spot, fear paralyzing you. You had always heard about how the Pogues were trouble, how dangerous they could be, and now, seeing it firsthand, you realized just how true those warnings were.

You stayed in Sarah’s room for what felt like an eternity, your mind racing, your heart pounding. You couldn’t leave, couldn’t risk running into John B again, but the fear and worry gnawed at you, making it impossible to think straight.

When Sarah finally returned, her face pale and her eyes red from crying, you rushed to her, desperate to understand what had just happened. “Sarah,” you began, your voice trembling, reaching out to her, but she stepped back, her expression closed off, a wall of pain and anger between you.

“What did he want? What gold is he talking about?” you asked, your voice small and tentative, the questions tumbling out in your desperation to make sense of it all.

“It doesn’t concern you,” Sarah said bitterly, her voice sharp, her eyes avoiding yours.

“Of course it does when he comes here with a gun! He could’ve hurt you—” you argued, your voice rising with fear and frustration. You couldn’t understand how she could brush this off, how she could act like it didn’t matter.

Sarah let out a bitter laugh, her eyes finally meeting yours, but they were cold, distant. “He wouldn’t hurt me. But Rafe will definitely hurt you…”

You shook your head, your heart aching at her words, at the disbelief and anger in her voice. “No. I like him, Sarah. I always did.”

“How can you like him?” Sarah snapped, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and frustration. She wasn’t just mad at you for being with Rafe; she was mad because she thought he was a bad person because she believed he was dangerous, and she couldn’t understand why you didn’t see that.

“He was always nice towards me,” you said softly, your voice trembling. You wished she could see what you saw in him, the tenderness he had shown you, the way he made you feel safe, and protected.

“Yeah, until he isn’t anymore…” Sarah’s voice was sharp, her words like a slap, stinging and painful. “Please go, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“But Sarah—” you began, your heart breaking at the distance between you, at the way she was pushing you away, but she cut you off, her voice rising in anger.

“I’m serious, go!” she exclaimed, her voice loud and forceful, the finality in her tone leaving no room for argument.

You flinched, the force of her words hitting you like a physical blow. You knew she was mad, knew she would react like this about you and Rafe, but it still hurt, still felt like a knife twisting in your chest. You wanted to stay, to try and talk to her, to make her understand, but you could see that she wasn’t ready, that she needed time.

With a heavy heart, you turned on your heel and left her room, your mind spinning, your emotions raw and tangled. You hoped that, maybe later, when things had calmed down, she would want to talk, that you could fix this rift between you. But for now, all you could do was walk away, your heart aching with the weight of everything that had happened.

Leaving Sarah’s house altogether, your heart felt like it was in pieces, and your mind was a tangled mess of emotions. The cold night air stung your cheeks as you walked down the empty, dark street, the only sound being the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional bark of a dog. Each step felt heavy, your thoughts swirling uncontrollably as you replayed the events of the past hour—Sarah’s anger, John B’s gun, the terrifying chaos that seemed to be consuming everything around you.

You hadn’t meant for things to spiral like this. You just wanted to be honest with Sarah, to share with her what was going on between you and Rafe. But now you felt like everything was falling apart, the distance between you and your best friend widening into a chasm that you didn’t know how to cross.

Your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, leading you to the one place you knew you could find comfort, the only place you felt you could breathe again—Rafe’s. The house where he was staying loomed in the darkness, a familiar, comforting silhouette against the night sky. You hesitated for a moment at the door, your hand hovering over the handle, a flicker of doubt running through you. Should you be here? Should you be turning to him when everything felt so unstable?

But you pushed the doubt aside and walked in, your need to see him, to feel his arms around you, overriding everything else. You made your way upstairs, your heart pounding with anticipation and anxiety. You needed to be with him, needed to know that he was okay after everything that had happened.

When you found him, your heart dropped. Rafe was bent over a table, his body tense, his head low. You watched in shock as he brought something up to his nose and sniffed, the unmistakable line of white powder disappearing in an instant.

“Shit.” He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes widening in surprise. He straightened up quickly, wiping the remnants of coke from his nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would come over.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting. Seeing him like this—so vulnerable, so caught up in something that was hurting him—made your heartache. But you couldn’t let him see your fear, your disappointment. You needed to be strong for him, you needed to show him that you were there no matter what.

You walked over to the empty armchair and sank down, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, his eyes still glossy from the high. “You didn’t come last night.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, unsure how to explain yourself. “I stayed home. I didn’t want my mom to worry again.”

He nodded, but you could see the concern in his eyes, the way he was looking at you like he was trying to read your thoughts. “You seem upset.”

You took a deep breath, the memory of what had happened at Sarah’s house still fresh, the fear and confusion still lingering in your mind. “I was at Sarah’s, and John B came with a gun…” you began, your voice shaking slightly as you recalled the tense confrontation.

“With a gun?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, his worry immediate and intense, his eyes searching your face. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?”

You nodded, trying to reassure him. “Yeah, I’m fine. He started asking Sarah some questions about the gold and—”

“What gold?” Rafe interrupted, his brow furrowed in confusion.

You shrugged helplessly, the same question spinning in your mind. “I have no idea. But he was acting crazy. I was afraid he was going to hurt her.”

Rafe’s face hardened, a dark shadow passing over his features. “I’m surprised you didn’t stay with her.”

“Well, she kinda didn’t want me around after I told her I slept with you.” The words came out before you could think, and you watched Rafe’s eyes widen in shock.

“You did?” There was surprise in his voice, but also something else, something softer, more vulnerable.

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and sadness. “Yeah, she didn’t react well, but I already knew that would happen.”

“Then what made you say it to her?” Rafe asked, his voice gentle, curious.

“I don’t want us to be a secret and sneak around all the time,” you said softly, your heart aching with the truth of it. You didn’t want to hide anymore, didn’t want to feel like you were doing something wrong by being with him.

Rafe’s expression softened, his eyes filling with something warm, something that made your heart flutter. “Come here,” he murmured, reaching out his hand to you.

You took his hand, and he pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you securely. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, with desire.

You could see the raw honesty in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. You placed your hands on his cheeks, your thumbs brushing softly over his skin. “I think I might have a few,” you teased, your voice light, trying to ease the heaviness between you.

He didn’t waste another second. Rafe’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss was urgent and hungry, as if he were trying to pour all his emotions, all his gratitude and love, into that single moment. His tongue pushed past your lips, and you met him eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you moved to straddle him, pressing yourself against his already hardening cock.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist as if he were afraid you’d disappear. The heat between you was intense, electric, and you could feel his desperation, his need to be close to you, to lose himself in you.

Suddenly, you were lifted off the chair as Rafe stood up, his arms strong and steady around you. He carried you towards the room, his lips never leaving yours, the kiss deepening with each step. You felt the soft mattress against your back as he laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours, his eyes dark with desire.

“I want to eat you out,” Rafe declared, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “I want to make you go crazy, like you make me.”

“Please do,” you whimpered, your legs instinctively parting for him, your body aching for his touch.

Your dress had ridden up, exposing your expensive lace thong. You had worn it just for him, hoping you’d get to see him tonight, hoping for a moment like this. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands sliding up your thighs as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your thong and pulled it down, tossing it aside carelessly.

He looked at you, his gaze hungry, devouring. “Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites in his wake. You closed your eyes, your breath hitching as his fingers found your core, spreading your wetness, teasing you. He drew slow circles on your clit, his touch light and deliberate, making your back arch and your hips lift off the bed.

“Rafe, please,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

He looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief and adoration. “You like that, baby?”

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you breathed, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you, your body trembling with anticipation.

He grinned, his fingers slipping inside you, his mouth hovering just above your clit. He placed a feather-light kiss on your mound, and you whimpered, your body aching for more.

When his lips finally made contact, you cried out, your hands flying to his hair, pulling him closer. He moaned against your core, the sound vibrating through you, making you shiver. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“Rafe, oh god—” Your voice was a high, breathless whimper, your body arching off the bed as he sucked on your clit, his fingers moving faster, deeper.

It was too much, the pleasure building and building until you felt like you were going to break apart. Your walls tightened around his fingers, and you felt yourself tipping over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you, your cries echoing in the room.

“Such a good girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice hoarse as he licked you clean, his touch gentle, reverent. But when you tried to push him away, your body too sensitive, he stood, a cocky grin on his face.

“I want you inside me,” you confessed, your voice shaky, your body still trembling from your release.

“Can you handle it?” He laughed lowly, his eyes dark with desire, with the thrill of having you so desperate for him.

“Please, Rafe,” you begged, your voice a soft, needy whimper.

Rafe smirked, his gaze locked on yours. “So desperate for my dick…” He tugged down his shorts and boxers, his cock springing free, hard and thick, a droplet of precum glistening at the tip.

“I want to show you a different position,” he said, his voice filled with anticipation. He grabbed your legs, flipping you onto your stomach with an effortless strength that made you gasp. His hands slid up your back, lingering at your waist as he adjusted your hips, pulling them up and into the air. Your dress was bunched around your waist, your skin exposed and vulnerable. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your sensitive skin, the anticipation making your heart race. You could feel his eyes on you, could almost hear the thoughts racing through his mind as he took in the sight of you, laid out before him, ready and waiting.

“Trust me, you’ll feel my dick even better like this,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. He sounded awestruck like he couldn’t believe this was happening, like he couldn’t believe you were really here with him, wanting this as much as he did.

You sucked in a breath, biting your lower lip as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you. The sensation was maddening, the promise of what was to come making your pulse hammer in your ears.

When he finally pushed inside you, the stretch was immediate, and intense. You moaned, your fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as he slid in slowly, inch by inch. It felt impossibly deep, every nerve in your body lighting up as he filled you completely. Your walls clenched around him, and you heard him suck in a sharp breath, his grip on your hips tightening.

“Can I move?” he asked, his voice strained, his usual confidence tempered with a gentleness that made your heart twist. He wanted to make sure you were okay, wanted to be certain he wasn’t hurting you.

“Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice raspy and low. You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched and filled you, the way he fit perfectly like he was made for you.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he groaned, his hips beginning to move in slow, deliberate thrusts. “You feel so fucking good.”

You whimpered, feeling him so deep inside you, desperate for more, for everything he could give. “Harder, Rafe—” you moaned, your voice breathless, pleading.

“Like this?” he asked, and before you could answer, he pulled back almost all the way and then thrust hard and fast into you, the force of it making you cry out, your body arching under his. The sensation was overwhelming, a sharp, intense pleasure that sent sparks shooting through your veins. You bit down on the sheets, your body trembling, barely able to handle the way he was making you feel.

He repeated the motion, each thrust hard and deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your vision blur, that made everything else disappear. Your arms felt like they were going to give out, your entire body trembling as he took you apart, piece by piece.

Rafe noticed your struggle, and before you could collapse, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you up against his chest. You gasped at the new angle, at how impossibly deep he felt inside you now. His other arm was wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, trying to stay in control, to not completely lose himself in you.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. His hand moved from your waist to your throat, hovering there, his fingers brushing against your skin.

“You like this?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh god—yes, Rafe,” you breathed out, your voice breaking, your body trembling. “I love it so much.”

You felt like you were on the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. Rafe’s right hand slid down your body, his fingers brushing over your breast before he found your clit, his touch sending a shockwave through you.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, your voice high and breathless. You could barely think, barely breathe, your entire world narrowing down to the sensation of his body against yours, of his cock buried deep inside you, his fingers moving in quick, deliberate circles over your clit.

“Wait for me,” Rafe murmured, his voice a low, desperate whimper. He was close too, you could feel it in the way his hips stuttered, in the way his breath came in harsh, ragged gasps.

“I can’t, please—” You were teetering on the edge, your body trembling, your mind unraveling, everything inside you screaming for release.

“You won’t cum unless I say so,” Rafe growled, his voice rough and commanding. His words, his tone, sent a thrill through you, made you tighten around him, made you want to do exactly what he said, to hold out just a little longer, to wait for him.

“Please, Daddy,” the words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice a soft, needy whimper. You didn’t even know where it came from, didn’t even realize you’d said it until you felt Rafe’s entire body tense behind you. He almost came.

“Yeah, you want Daddy to let you cum?” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his hand tightening around your throat. “Beg like the little whore you are, then.”

“Please, let me cum, Daddy,” you pleaded, your voice sweet and desperate, your body trembling with need. “I’ve been so good to you, please… let me cum. I need it so bad.”

Rafe let out a low, guttural groan, his hips snapping against yours harder, faster. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice strained, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make you dizzy, just enough to make your head spin.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing, his cock throbbing as he came. The feeling of him filling you, the heat of his release, sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you, your body shaking, your cries echoing in the room.

Rafe stayed inside you, his movements slowing, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high. He kissed your neck, and your shoulder, his lips soft and tender against your skin.

“Fuck, I wasn’t wearing a condom,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, the realization hitting him like a punch.

Your eyes snapped open, your heart skipping a beat as you looked back at him, panic rising in your chest. “What?”

“It’s fine. You won’t get pregnant,” Rafe said quickly, trying to reassure you, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the fear that he was trying to hide.

“How do you know?” Your voice was rising, the panic spilling over, your mind racing with a thousand terrifying thoughts. “Oh my god—” You could feel the tears starting to well up, your heart pounding wildly. “You need to go and buy Plan B.”

“Right now?” Rafe asked, his eyes wide, his expression caught between guilt and confusion.

“Yes, right away,” you insisted, your voice urgent, your fear spilling out in a rush of words. “Please, Rafe. I can’t get pregnant.”

“I don’t know. I kinda liked you calling me Daddy,” he tried to joke, a half-smile on his lips, but it fell flat, the fear and panic in your eyes cutting through his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you said, your voice breaking, the tears spilling over now, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe them away. “This isn’t something to joke about.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” he said softly, his expression shifting, the playfulness gone. He reached out, brushing your tears away with his thumb, his touch gentle. “I’m sorry. I’ll go get it, okay? Don’t cry, please.”

You nodded, your breath hitching as you tried to calm down. “Okay. Just… hurry.”

“I will,” he promised, leaning in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering against yours. “I’m sorry, baby. I was just joking around.”

You sniffed, nodding again. “I know. Just—please, hurry.”

He got off the bed, pulling on his boxers and shorts, and then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him. You lay there for a moment, your heart still racing, your mind still spinning. The room smelled like the two of you, a heady mix of sweat and sex and something uniquely Rafe, and it made your chest tighten, made the tears well up again.

After a few moments, you forced yourself to move, to get up and take a shower. The hot water helped clear your mind, and helped wash away some of the panic. You kept telling yourself it would be fine, that everything would be okay, but the fear still lingered, a cold knot in your stomach.

By the time you finished, Rafe had returned. He had the Plan B pill in one hand and a pizza box in the other. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, at the way he looked so earnest, so concerned.

“I got you some food,” he said, holding up the pizza, a tentative smile on his face. “I thought you might be hungry.” There was a softness in his eyes, a gentleness that contrasted so starkly with the intensity of everything you’d just been through.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the weight in your chest lightening just a little at his thoughtfulness. You took the Plan B pill from his hand and swallowed it with a glass of water, relief washing over you as you did. You knew it was the right thing to do, but the reality of the situation still made your heart race.

Rafe watched you, his eyes never leaving your face, his worry palpable. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s okay,” you sighed, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s just… this is all so new, and I don’t want anything to mess it up, you know?”

He nodded, his expression softening, and he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “I get it. And I promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, at the sincerity in his eyes. It was strange, how quickly things had changed between you two, how deeply you felt for him already. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Let’s just eat,” you suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m starving.”

Rafe’s smile widened, relief evident in his expression as he set the pizza box down on the small table outside on the patio. “Good idea. I’m starving too.”

The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped outside with him, the sound of crickets filling the quiet. You both settled onto the patio chairs, the dim light from inside casting a soft glow over you.

For a while, you ate in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away as you focused on the simple pleasure of being with him, of sharing a meal together. Rafe’s gaze kept flicking to you, his eyes soft, his smile easy, and every time you caught him looking, your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for getting this,” you said after a while, gesturing to the pizza, your voice quiet. “And the pill, I mean.”

“Of course,” Rafe replied, his tone serious. “I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

His words hung in the air between you, charged with an intensity that made your breath catch. You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the vulnerability there, the raw honesty in his eyes. It wasn’t just about tonight, about what had happened. It was about everything—about who he was, who he was trying to be for you.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “And I’d do anything for you too.”

He reached across the table, his hand finding yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the strength in his grip, and it anchored you, made you feel safe.

For a long moment, you just sat there, holding his hand, the quiet of the night wrapping around you both like a comforting blanket. It felt like a promise, unspoken but real, that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

After a while, you both finished eating, the pizza box now empty between you. Rafe leaned back in his chair, his eyes on you, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

“You know, I could get used to this,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing. “Just you and me, no one else around.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. “Me too. It’s… nice.”

“It’s more than nice,” he murmured, his gaze turning serious again. “I know things are complicated right now, with Sarah and everything, but… I want this. I want us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of joy and fear that made your heart beat faster. You wanted it too, wanted him, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy. There were so many obstacles, so many things that could go wrong.

“I want us too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s going to be hard.”

“I know,” Rafe said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever happened next, you knew you had him, and that was enough.

As the night deepened, you both stayed on the patio, talking quietly, your hands still intertwined. The world outside felt far away, the worries and fears that had seemed so overwhelming were now distant, muted by the warmth and comfort of being together.

When you finally went back inside, you felt lighter, more certain. You curled up in bed with Rafe, his arms wrapped around you, his breath warm against your neck. There was no need for words, no need for anything but the quiet, steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that whatever came next, whatever challenges you faced, you would face them together.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[queenimmadolla]

TRIGGER WARNING: SA of my past

I didn’t even want to comment on this because it’s so fucking disgusting and quite frankly, triggering. Please heed my own warning, as I’m on mobile and cannot leave a cut (‘keep reading’).

As someone who was a victim to your vile little ‘kink’—it’s a CRIME—when I was child (OBVIOUSLY AGAINST MY MOTHER FUCKING WILL), I wish I could physically spit on you. You’re vile. And I hope you get help, because you need it. There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING acceptable, hot, cute, sexy about that, about being taken advantage of, touched in places you don’t even acknowledge as a child. NOTHING.

It’s not a fucking kink. I promise you that. You wanna know the reality of that sick fantasy you’ve got? It’s been 16 entire years. Along with my trauma, I’ve got vaginismus. You know what that means? My body will not allow me to be intimate with anyone. It physically will not allow me no matter how comfortable and in love I am with them. I now have to train my body to not think I’m about to be assaulted, that something against my will is about to happen to me every single time. And it doesn’t go away. The training sometimes works, but it fucking hurts. It hurts a lot. And I’ll never be able to stop training my body because it will never learn. It’s always going to think something bad is going to happen to me and sometimes, so do I, even when there’s not even a chance I’ll be assaulted. I’ll always have that subconscious fear no matter how far I think I’ve run from it. Because I was hurt by a grown man who had the same sick fantasy as you. I was 8. There wasn’t a single thing sexy about me or my innocence.

So fuck you, fuck your evil little mind and I hope you get what’s coming to you.

Fictional character or not, it’s unacceptable. And that character is played by a real human being who you’re smearing in your efforts for gross sexual gratification. Joe would be absolutely disgusted and appalled at what you’re subjecting him and Eddie to.

My blog is not, and will never ever be a ‘safe space’ (a term I’ve seen going around to try and defend this shit) for your atrocious pedo fantasy. Seek help.

[overcaffeinated-aro]

I got an email from my grandpa today and all the draft responses I’ve been working on in my head sound like an 18th century letter that’s going to have to travel for months to reach him.

pandemic year 5 really has me feeling like me and a very small handful of people I know are living on an entirely different plane of existence than everyone else

[thatone-churro]

maybe i’m just feeling really sad and stuff right now (i am, at least when this is queued, but that’s not the point) but i really REALLY wanna write something that just. makes someone sob. like yeah i joke that “i can never write happy stuff if it’s not upsetting it’s not mine sorry” but i feel like i never nail the raw emotion. i feel like i either lean too much or not enough into the “cliches” for it to work right. i wanna write something that just hits in the chest so hard so naturally, like i’m reading you perfectly at your worst. i want the sob to be genuine. and i wanna make it worth it. does that make sense??? idk. i know i’m still a “beginner” (haven’t been dedicated to writing poetry for even a year yet tbh; it was a hobby until my first class last semester) but like. this is my ultimate goal tbh. if i write something that resonates so strongly with someone that they cry and/or carry it for the rest of their life in a way that either hurts or haunts or relieves or maybe all of the above, then i guess i was a good poet.

or smthn idk

[bibleofficial]

ok so man that i hooked up w like 2 weeks ago that i wanted to see for like dates: cancelled. i’m bored of him 😭😭😭

[seilon]

shouldn’t have checked my bank account as expected my mother has taken thousands more dollars from my savings and has almost run me dry more or less. Cool!

[steviescrystals]

MY LIFE IS NOT REAL WHAT IS GOING ON

[floral-hex]

Just canceled all of my future therapy appointments. Big fudgin’ bummer. Did I mention I lost my insurance? Didn’t even find out about that until the day it lapsed. Trying to find a way to fix it now, reapplying and whatnot, but ya know, it’s bureaucracy so who knows how long it’ll take. Just fingers crossed I don’t run out of meds first.

lol it’s underwater 🐠