#I have to stop being mentally ill for her but I just can’t it’s very hard

[vulpixenthusiast]

Mierin eronaile, the most powerful saidar channeler of her time. In a time when the channelers were at their most powerful.

Mierin eronaile a genius scientist with an underdog complex who never got recognition, and when thinking she would, ended up dooming herself and the whole world.

Mierin eronaile, the woman who only loved one man and was never really loved in return; who never really learned what love actually was. What it could be. The woman who clang to that because what was she to do, what else was there left?

Mierin eronaile the scientist who found a new source of power for ALL channelers. The woman who opened a hole to the prison made by the creator himself.

Mierin eronaile, who clung to power as much as she did to what she believed to be love towards the only man she would ever want. Because again. What else was there.

Mierin, who very likely never knew friendship or even companionship.

The woman who dedicated her entire life to studying the one power.

Mierin, who was such a competent and brilliant woman that both the representatives of Light and Dark wanted her.

The woman who, unfortunately, even if all of that, was also deeply mentally unstable. Something which probably could count for her never getting a third name.

“Yeah Mierin is brilliant and there’s no one who knows more abt the one power, or who has done so much in terms of advancing what we can do with it. But like. she’s visibly insane, no one would ever think of giving her a third name. Can you imagine ? No one would give that a green light”.

Mierin Eronaile, who was so devoted to Lews Therin but still got dumped, and later on is only thought of by him through a lens of disgust and anger.

Mierin Eronaile, who even as her self-made monster, still managed to resurface whenever her ex lover would slip through Rands lips. Even losing her so well put demeanor.

Mierin sedai, who we first get to know through Rands ancestral. Another connection to the dragon reborn.

Mierin Eronaile, who, just like pandora, uncovered something she didn’t completely understand, and suffered hell for it, along with the world. But unlike pandora, also lost hope in the process.

Mierin Eronaile, who didn’t die, yet somehow, and still came back wrong.

The tragedy of Mierin Eronaile and the birth of Lanfear.

Lanfear the monster born out of desperation, but also choice. A 50/50 dose of both.

Lanfear, Mierins response to the world around her. “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine. Ill be the bad guy.”

Lanfear, the only Forsaken to chose her own name. Lanfear, gripping the reigns of her own story for once. A true rebirth.

Daughter of the night, walker of dreams, dweller in the dark. In direct contrast to Lews Therin, Rand al Thor, “He who comes with the dawn”.

She who brings sleep and dreams. And he who wakes and brings the light. She who lives in and rules this separate, mirrored world. This Unreality. And he who brings new, actual realities, all over again.

Lanfear, Mierins greatest triumph over her own self. It becomes no surprise that she loses her hold on her emotions when Asmodean brings that name to her acknowledgment again.

Lanfear, the shapeshifter. The ever changing mask user. Playing with t’avaren who mold the pattern around them, instead of being dragged and drowned by it.

Lanfear, who hates being called aes sedai. What has serving them all ever brought her? Aes sedai, who turned their back to her when she needed them the most. Even Lews.

Lanfear, who even sworn and bound by literal strings to her soul to the Dark One, betrays him, and actively plots to take him down along with the creator.

Lanfear, who doesn’t give two scents about The Dark or The Light. There’s her side, and against her.

Moon hunter, always eyeing, in search of the unattainable. With a never ending hunger for more. And more. Nothing ever coming close to being enough.

Lanfear, trying to fill a hole in herself reminiscent of Mierin Eronaile, who will probably never heal because she has never known love. And she never will, because that would mean becoming that woman again. And she would never. Ever again.

Daughter of the night, the chosen to free the dark one, the only to pick her own name. And still second in command. Still not good enough. Still unrecognized.

Lanfear, in a constant state of self loathing, but also always boastful, proud to a fault.

The monster who changed herself and keeps on changing, willingly and unconsciously. Who becomes unrecognizable, until, somehow, recognition falls back onto her self. And on, and on, and on. In an eternal loop, just like the wheel of time.

Ishamael who never wanted to be a monster and doesn’t see himself as one versus Lanfear, who HAD to be a monster, who chose to be one to leave behind every pain and weakness from Mierin Eronaile.

Lanfear, the goddess, who is so distant from humanity but still fatally human. Daughter of the night, who can never wake from the dream, and so can never truly go back to being just a human.

Lanfear and Mierin Eronaile, who are the same person and not at all.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

[hyewka]

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part five) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Rafe knocks again. And again. And again.

Your front door rattles in its frame, his knuckles still sore from the punches he threw at the bonfire last night.

He sat in the holding cell after being questioned by Brading, ruminating over everything he’ll say to you when he sees you. He needs to tell you that you’re right; the detective is onto you both.

Brading brought up your name, asking about Porter, asking what Rafe had over you that would make you want to protect him.

He’s confident you’re both guilty, but he doesn’t have the evidence to prove it. He’d booked him on a drug charge, telling him they’d searched his bedroom and found enough coke to arrest him for more than just possession.

His questions had nothing to do with that.

He demanded Rafe tell him about Porter, trying to provoke him into a confession. As he sat in the small, dingy interrogation room, your words echoed in his head. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer.

So, he didn’t. Brading gave up and threw him back into his cell. Rafe would’ve lost his temper if he didn’t have you to protect.

The lawyer came in with Ward early this morning. After Rafe told him about the arrest, the lawyer explained that Brading had abused his power by not providing Rafe with his right to make a phone call.

Rafe couldn’t make eye contact with his father as he was escorted into a courtroom for the bail hearing an hour later. The lawyer was well worth the money Rafe is sure his father is paying him. He was given a court date and granted bail, which Ward covered.

“I’m sorry I got mixed up in this, okay?” Rafe had muttered to his father in the car on their way home. “I’ll get clean. I’ll stop selling.”

“You should know better,” Ward sighed. “The cops showing up to our house like that… what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” he said.

“And what was that… about that missing kid? You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His own father jumping to the worst conclusion, even though it’s true, pierced the wound Rafe has held in his heart since childhood. He’s nothing but a disappointment. A stain on the family name.

Now, he’s at your front door, and he’s been knocking for what feels like five straight minutes. Nobody’s answering. The house looks empty. The car is gone.

He checks his phone again to see it’s almost two in the afternoon. All his texts and calls to you have gone undelivered.

He can’t even entertain the thought that you’re doing it on purpose; he knows you’re loyal to him. He never thought he’d trust somebody the way he trusts you, but he does, and he would never expect you to turn on him.

He needs to find you.

He makes his way to the country club, figuring you must be at work. When he rushes to the restaurant, tapping the bartop, he impatiently asks where you are.

The bartender looks at Rafe with a look he can’t quite read.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says. It’s the first time he used that title, but it feels right for what he has with you. “Is she working today or not?”

“Oh… I…” The bartender uneasily looks around the room. “I shouldn’t be the one to... I don’t…”

“What?” Rafe snaps.

“Our boss told us this morning,” he responds, his expression pained. He leans closer, hesitating as he says, “She was in a car accident and she didn’t make it. I’m sorry, man. I wish I wasn’t the one to tell you.”

Rafe straightens, his body flooding with a sharp, harrowing chill.

“You…” He shakes his head. “You got something wrong. You don’t– you’re confused.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know her that well, but…” The bartender nervously shrugs. “Everyone liked her.”

Liked her. Liked. You’re not in the past tense. You’re here. You’re somewhere around here. The ringing in his ears grows louder. The man only shakes his head, frowning in sympathy.

“You’re confused,” Rafe repeats. “What did– who told you that?”

“My boss,” he tells him again.

Rafe erratically rushes out of the building, starting his car even though he doesn’t know where to go, and looks ahead with a blank stare as his chest heaves.

“No,” he mutters to himself, his voice strained. “No, this is– he’s fucking wrong. This is…”

There’s no way this is real.

He pulls his phone out to call you. Again, it doesn’t even ring. His phone beeps with the dropped call notification. He tries again. Nothing.

His limbs are shaking, eyes burning with tears. A mistake. It’s a mistake. He just needs to find another way to contact you.

He opens a social media app to message you there. Before he can type in the search bar, a smiling photo of you is at the top of his feed.

It’s a news article. Local woman dead after late night crash. The post caption reads: This is crazy. She was so young :( Rest in peace.

He taps to read the comments, reading worthless prayers and canned condolences as he keeps scrolling, every roll of his thumb making him sicker.

He finds the article. Saliva coats his tongue and he’s sure he’s about to throw up as he reads it.

The vehicle was traveling southbound… Ran off the roadway… Pronounced deceased on scene.

No. You were just with him last night, a living, breathing, beautiful girl telling him you care about him, your touch warm and soft and real.

Deceased. That cold, final word doesn’t describe you. It can’t.

He barely makes it in time to open his door and vomit on the concrete. When he slams his hands over his steering wheel, he does it until his palms throb in pain. He cries until his throat burns.

No. This can’t be real.

╰┈➤ three weeks later

The town you live in now is in a land-locked state with an even smaller population than Kildare. The agent in charge of your case gave you and your parents everything you needed to assume your new lives.

Your old one ended on a road back home, covered up with a story that you’d lost control of your friend’s car and died on impact.

You’re sitting in the therapist’s office, picking at a loose string on your shirt. The protection program placed you with a clinical psychologist who specializes in trauma recovery, but you worry you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the paralyzing pain that has sept into your heart.

You come here once a week. You’re supposed to be moving on, setting roots here, accepting your new identity.

But you haven’t and you can’t. You’re not allowed to contact anyone, but every day, more and more, you yearn to find a way to tell the people you love that you’re okay, to put them out of their grief and misery.

You wouldn’t dare take the risk, but you’re constantly checking on what you left on the island, searching news sites and social media for anything you can find through a faceless account.

Rafe’s arrest record is public. Sale and distribution of an illegal substance. You know now that Brading arrested him for coke that night. You’re sure he did it just to get Rafe in custody to be able to intimidate him into talking about Porter.

You know nothing else about him. He hasn’t posted anything since you left. His name only comes up on the law enforcement website, offering no further information on a trial or a sentencing.

When you look up your friends, seeing the photos and messages they posted in memoriam of you never gets easier. You left JJ and Pope and John B with the shock of seeing you in Rafe’s arms, then you left in JJ’s car, unknowingly racing towards your faked death.

The investigation on Porter has hit a dead end. The last article came out a week ago titled: Family seeks closure as disappearance of Porter Arnoult remains a mystery.

And the man who shot Brading, who made a full recovery, is still at large, meaning you’re still in danger.

“Come on in,” your therapist says gently, peeking out her office door.

You settle in the worn seat. You’ve told this woman everything but for the truth about the night that was the catalyst to the mess your life has become.

You promised Rafe you’d keep the secret to the grave. You meant it.

·········

The heaviest, sharpest ache sits in Rafe’s chest as he stands at your final resting place, as he reads your name in stone, a hyphen between two years that are much too close to each other.

There was no funeral. Word had gotten around that your parents were too distraught and left town shortly after the accident.

His head is pounding with his hangover, his body weak from the booze and coke he’s been pumping into it.

Stay out of trouble. That’s what his lawyer told him. But his court date is in a couple of days and he’s done everything but. This is the first time he’s come to your grave and he feels like a piece of shit for waiting so long, but he couldn’t do it.

He never deserved you. A piece of him knew, gnawed at him, that you’d realize he didn’t measure up. But he was ready to try, for once in his life, to be better.

And then, you were taken from him. And the idea of paying his respect to a girl who’s nothing but a memory now is not for your benefit. It’s for the grieving, and while he’s not worthy of that relief, he came to the cemetery in case he won’t get the chance again for a long time.

He’ll likely be going to prison soon. His lawyer said the best case scenario is a reduced sentence and a heavy fine.

Rafe’s numb to it. It’s why he’s been getting fucked up at parties, telling anyone who asks about you or him to shut up because he knows they don’t care. All he does is get wasted and open his wallet only to buy more shit to dull the pain.

You were a light in the clouds that always consumed him, and because you’d followed him after he’d gotten arrested, you died.

He’ll never forgive himself for the fact that caring for him is what killed you.

╰┈➤ one week later

It’s Rafe’s last night of freedom.

He was sentenced to 14 months. His life is fucked. All because he was an idiot who decided to sell coke.

Brading sat in the courtroom as the arresting officer, looking bitter, likely because his plan to get Rafe to crack about Porter’s case never worked.

His lawyer told him it was a win to get such a short sentence, as if living behind bars can ever be considered some sort of victory. He’s being locked up tomorrow, a nasty blotch on his record, a traumatic experience waiting for him.

He’s at a party on Figure Eight, dipped into a numbing high on a couch. Coke and booze coarse through his veins. He’s subconsciously been hoping that it’d kill him before he has to go to prison.

It’s been a month since you died. The hole in his chest only digs itself deeper, burying him alive. He ignores the people who pretend to care about him, remembering how they’d acted when rumors spread about him doing something to Porter.

He knows this will follow him forever, being suspected for Porter’s disappearance, being connected to you, the innocent girl who got involved with him then tragically passed away.

He doesn’t care what people think. He thought he was lethargic before. That was nothing.

He gets lost in the high, hearing the people and the music around him, catching flashes of phones in the crowd as people celebrate life while he wishes his would just end.

“What were you doing with her?”

Rafe’s vision blurs and refocuses until he can see who’s standing over him in the crowded living room. It’s Pope, his nostrils flared in anger.

JJ and John B stand close behind, disgusted looks on their faces.

“Fuck off,” Rafe slurs.

“What were you doing with her?” JJ shouts louder. A few heads turn at the noise.

Rafe’s jaw tenses in anger. His body is heavy, but he pushes himself off the couch, staring at your friends, knowing they have no fucking clue how badly he’s been suffering without you.

“She didn’t want to tell you,” Rafe mutters, “because she knew you assholes would make her feel bad about it.”

“She’s… she’s fucking dead because of you,” JJ says, his voice laced with tears. “She was on the road because of you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Rafe yells. He swore on his life that you’d always be safe with him. He deserves to die.

He has nothing to lose. He shoves JJ down onto the floor, landing a single punch before he’s pulled back and struck in the jaw with a hard fist.

Rafe spits out blood, his neck at the crook of the couch, knowing no amount of physical pain could come close to matching how bad his heart hurts.

·········

When you see Rafe in the background of a Kook’s social media story, your breath hitches. He’s sprawled out on a couch, head tipped back, lips parted and eyes rolling.

You know it’s stupid. You know you’re putting yourself in danger by doing it. You’re not supposed to contact a soul from your past life.

But he looks near death in the video.

You go to Rafe’s account and start to type with trembling fingers. You’re using the burner account you made, a fake name with no photo, but you hope reminding him of something only you two would remember is enough.

It’s me. The girl you always gave a $50 to at the club. I’m okay. I had to go into hiding. I had no choice. Please take care of yourself and don’t tell anyone about me. I miss you.

You don’t see his reply until you wake up the next day. What kind of sick joke is this?

It’s not a joke, you respond. I used to tell you all the time not to call me a Pogue, remember? I know this is confusing. I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t blame him. He thinks it’s a twisted prank. But even though it was a stupid risk to take, you’re glad you tried. You just wish it worked.

A day later, you unsend your messages and delete your account just in case.

╰┈➤ sixteen months later

“It’s completely your choice,” the program agent continues, sitting in the living room of the home you still don’t consider home. “We set you and your family up for permanent placement, but the man you saw was captured with his associates and died in a shoot-out. We’re confident you’re no longer in danger. You can choose to stay here, or go back.”

You look at your parents with wide eyes, in utter disbelief. It’s been over a year. You all have jobs and friends and a foundation now, even though it’s built on lies.

But you’ve been aching to go home since the day you moved here. And you’re going back to the island, with or without your parents.

╰┈➤ three days later

The flight was painfully long. You came alone. Your parents didn’t feel the need to go back in time and come here. They don’t have the ties you do to home.

The fact that they could watch you leave was confirmation that all you shared with them was a last name. You always felt alone around them. You never had their love. Not really. It’s why you clung to your friends.

Kildare’s salty breeze is the same. Even the way the sun hits here feels unique. You keep the window of your rental car down as you drive through familiar streets.

You’d considered contacting your friends before finding them, but what happened with Rafe would likely happen with them. They’d think it was a cruel prank. They wouldn’t believe you.

It’s a sunny afternoon. You knock on JJ’s door. Your heart is in your throat. You’ve been discreetly keeping up with what your friends publicly post. It seems life here never changes much.

You crave the familiarity. The peace.

The door swings open. JJ stares at you like he’s seen a ghost. You expected as much.

“Hi,” your voice is thin, what you rehearsed coming out rushed. “I witnessed a crime and I was put into protection. They had to fake my death and put me somewhere safe. But I’m not in danger anymore. And they let me come back.”

He doesn’t have the words. You don’t blame him. He pulls you in and this is what you’ve been missing so agonizingly – feeling wanted.

He invites the guys over and after a tearful reunion and a long catch-up, you finally ask them about Rafe, terrified you’ll hear the worst, even though you’ve been keeping up with local news.

“He just got outta jail,” JJ says.

“For what?” you ask, worried he took the fall for what you did to Porter.

“Selling coke,” he says. “I think he got like, a year. I’m pretty sure his dad paid to get it scrubbed from the internet.”

“He kind of went crazy after you…” Pope trails off. “Crazier than usual. But since he got out, he’s not bothering us. He’s just quiet. He’s different now.”

You nod, desperate to go see him.

“What happened that night?” JJ asks. “Were you and him… like, a thing?”

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s… He wasn’t who we always thought he was. I was surprised, too. It happened really fast. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” JJ says.

You give him a grateful smile, knowing it won’t take long at all to get used to this again, to being your old self with your old friends. You left, but your heart stayed here.

·········

Rafe’s sister is visibly in shock to see you when you show up at the Camerons’ doorstep later that afternoon. You tell her what happened, sure the gossip will spread before you even step foot off the property, and ask her where Rafe is.

She tells you he went out on the family’s boat. You thank her and head over to the marina.

·········

Rafe spent every day in prison thinking about those messages he got the night before he was put behind bars. The person behind the account knew things only you would.

It might have been a twisted joke or someone’s way of keeping him above water while he wished he could drown.

But nobody would care enough about him to do that. Only you.

He never saw a response after he replied, and fourteen months later, when he got his phone back, the messages and the account were gone.

It’s been nearly a year and a half since you left. Hope is a ridiculous thing. He doesn’t even consider it your death anymore. You left.

The only thing that kept him going through his monotonous, soul-draining time in prison was the nearly invisible shred of hope that it really was you who sent him those messages.

He wishes he could remember the account name. It was a random assortment of letters and numbers. Sometimes, he’s convinced he dreamed it, like his survival instinct kicked in and made him hallucinate the possibility that you didn’t actually die.

He gazes out at the deep blue water, white caps tumbling over the waves as the boat bobs with the tides.

After you, he missed the sea most.

You remember where his boat was parked. Every detail of that night is burned into your mind. Vowing to keep the secret in the beach house, dragging the body over the dock, planning your alibis on his boat.

There haven’t been any developments in the case. Porter’s body is still out there somewhere, your secret lying with him.

Your heart stops when you spot Rafe’s back as he pulls a rope on his parked boat. His hair is buzzed now, his back broader and his arms larger than you remember. You close the distance, almost falling off the dock when you approach his boat because you’re that awestruck.

You’ve dreamt of this moment. You weren’t sure it’d ever come.

He turns, wrapping the rope around the cleat of the boat, squinting under the sun. He breathes a quiet grunt as he tightens the rope, then stands and surveys it.

Something catches the corner of his eye. He looks up. And pure relief washes over his handsome face.

Rafe rushes towards you like you might disappear if he doesn’t reach you fast enough. He jumps off the edge and nearly knocks the wind out of you when he surrounds you in his heavy arms, squeezing you.

Tears prick your eyes, and suddenly, you’re sobbing. From disbelief. From relief. From love.

“I knew it,” he whispers shakily, nuzzled into your neck. “I knew it. I knew it. Fuck.”

Your eyes are shut as he holds you, both of you suspended, bobbing boats creaking around you, gulls crying in the sky.

He finds the strength to pull back, meeting your eyes. Those eyes. They never left his mind. He knew you were out there and he wondered what they were seeing every single day.

You gaze up at him, vision blurred from your tears. Safety. That’s what he feels like to you. Like nothing can hurt you.

“I missed you,” you say in a whisper, but the words can’t possibly represent how painful life has been, how much you’ve been worrying about him.

“Me, too,” he says, cupping your cheek like you might break, like you’re a dream that might slip away. “I can’t believe…”

You nod. You can’t believe much of what’s happening, either.

·········

You’re in Rafe’s arms until the sun goes down, sitting in the hull of his parked boat, not wanting to part for even a second to allow him to drive out into the water. You don’t need to go anywhere. You want to be rooted with him.

You sat here once before, in a past life of a past life, conspiring and coming up with a story to cover up the murder.

“I never forgot what you did when I got arrested,” Rafe says into your ear, your back flush against his chest, the sun an orange sliver on the horizon. “Yelling at that asshole not to hurt me.”

“It was horrible seeing him do that to you,” you murmur, remembering how hard Brading had pushed him against the car to handcuff him. “He eventually gave up, huh? I kept checking the news, but the case went cold?”

“Yeah. He left town,” Rafe tells you. “He had no evidence. We got rid of it all.”

You nod with a long sigh.

“How was it?” you ask.

You don’t have to say it. He knows you’re asking about prison.

“Knowing you were okay kept me through it,” he admits. You turn to meet his pained blue eyes.

“It’s all behind us now,” you say.

He presses his lips against yours, warm and tender and soft, dismissing the cold that’d been sitting in your soul since you were forced to leave.

Epilogue

You’ll always feel the void of the year and a half that you were gone deep in your heart. But as time goes by, it gets smaller and smaller.

You’d planned to stay with one of your friends while you found your footing to get your own place, but Rafe insisted he buy you a condo, saying it’d be the best use of his money.

He hadn’t expected to still have access to his family’s bank account, but his father seemed to see a difference in him after prison.

You see a change in him, too. You mention it to him sometimes, how his temper has completely faded away.

“Still like me, though?” he once asked, half-joking.

“I love you,” you told him. It was the first time you said the word and his heart felt like it was going to burst. He kissed you hard and told you he loved over and over.

Rafe comes over all the time, preparing meals together, making up for lost time.

One night, as he dozes off next to you in your bed, you realize you still don’t regret your crime and if you don’t by now, you never will.

Sometimes you wonder if you should be remorseful for taking a life. But that man was evil and the world is a better place without him. People die, but the past doesn’t, and while you may carry it with you forever, you wouldn’t take it back.

Your eyes slowly trail over Rafe’s face in the dim light, your heart pounding as you think about how you got here, two broken people who found each other on a terrifying night.

It’s all still so crystal clear in your mind. The blood on his face the night it happened. The way he held you when you told him what your real motive was. The tears in his eyes when he reunited with you.

You pull a blanket over him. He’s everything to you now. And like your love, your secret remains between you two, binding you together forever.

(the end)

[latenightdaydreams]

OMG HANDMKFUXHAB

reader running away makes me so happy 🥺🥺 if you plan on making a part 4 for the creepy trucker series im on the edge of my seat!!!!

I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the cliffhanger with her running away!! I hope part 4 doesn't disappoint🩷

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part 4 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part1, Part2, Part3, Part5

Master List✍🏽

Tags: @nachofriess, @blue-spices, @teddy2510, @soosouyoung, @vivasab0tage

🚫As usual this story has HEAVY triggers! Please do not read if you cannot handle them! Ily all and I hope you take care of your body and mind🩷🚫

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>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, being chased, pregnancy, Stockholm syndrome

3.2k word count

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As you run you can hear the booming of footsteps, quickly in your mind you’re trying to figure out where you will go; you can’t just keep running, he will outrun you. You see a woman getting into a car with a man so you run to her, yelling in your native language, “Help me! Please!”

The woman looks at you scared and locks the car doors, hitting the guy to start driving. He does and quickly tries to get away from you and whatever danger you, a foreigner, is causing. Your heart sinks and you begin to cry loudly, clearly very distressed. You don’t stop running.

Across the road you can see a row of small businesses. Without thinking you just run across the road. You hear a car horn and tires screeching.

“MAUS!” König shouts as he sees you almost get hit by a car. He sees the car stopping just before it hits you. He freezes for a second as you do in front of the car. Then you look over at him and keep running. König pursues.

You continue to run, more cars having to stop, honking at you for dashing in front of them. König is right behind you also causing traffic to stop as he runs in front of cars. You make it to the other side.

Running into one of the stores, you run up to a man shopping and begin to ask him to call the cops. The man looks at you confused and backs away. Running pass, him, you go to the woman working behind the register.

“Please help me. There is a man that kidnapped me and is chasing me! Please!” She looks at you with the same look before telling you to go.

“No, no, I need help! Please!”

“Get out!” she shouts at you; she assumes you caused trouble for yourself and wants nothing to do with it.

Then König comes into the store, his eyes looking over the place and you run and hide; ducking behind the shelves in an aisle. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your breathing shaking as you try to sneak out of the store past König.

König walks up to a man and in German begins to describe you, asking if he saw you.

“My crazy wife is manic and ran out of the car, she isn’t taking her medicine, please I’m trying to help her.” König lied very convincingly to the man. He nodded and pointed to the other side of the store where he saw you run.

You hear his footsteps as you try to guess which way they’re about to go. You take your chance and make a run for it. König’s head snaps and begins to run after you. The lady behind the counter yelling at you and König to take this somewhere else.

Just as you’re about to escape through the door, the man in the shop grabs you. You begin to fight the man, “Let me go!”

“Bitte sei ruhig.” The man says thinking that you’re a mentally ill person.

Then you hear König’s voice, thanking the man for his help. His massive hands grasp your arms tightly and pull you to him. He wraps your arms in an x across your chest and wraps his arms tightly around them, lifting you.

You kick back, trying to hit König and shake your body trying to break free, but nothing works. König thanks the man again and begins to walk you out of the store. You’re crying as he does, making sure to quickly cross the road again.

“You fucked up Maus, you really did.”

“Please just let me go!” You sob still trying to break free but twisting your body.

König squeezes you so hard the air leaves your lungs, “Stop!”

You give up and just sob, “Please, let me go!”

“You’re mine, you have to realize that.”

You sob as he walks back to the truck. A small group of people standing outside and watching this happen. König looks at them, feeling panic but trying to appear as a worried husband. He loudly apologizes to the crowd for your behavior and tells the same lie about you being manic.

One older woman in the crowd didn’t believe König, something in her gut telling her that you’re in trouble and that he is lying. She feels helpless watching this scene play out in front of her. She seems to be the odd man out so she is scared to say something. She just watches with sadness in her eyes.

Once back inside the truck, König slams you down hard on the bed and slaps you. “You stupid bitch! You could have gotten hurt! Gotten me caught! Selfish!”

König grabs your handcuffs and restrains you again. This time also grabbing a rope and tying your ankles. You try to kick him as he reaches for them, but he is stronger than you as he grasps them firmly. He ties them so tightly that it hurts. He grabs an old t-shirt laying on the floor and stuffs it into your mouth so he doesn’t have to hear your screaming anymore.

“I was being nice to you, and you fucked it up.” He grows at you as he quickly gets into the drivers’ seat and begins to drive off.

The woman watches the semi take off as she gets on the bus with her group. A heavy guilty feeling in her stomach because she didn’t do anything. She sits next to her friend on the bus, 40 minutes pass as she sits in silence.

“What is wrong?” Her friend asks.

“I-I feel as if that man was lying. That woman looked terrified.”

Her friend nods her head, “She did.” They both take a deep breath before she speaks again, “Maybe you should report it?”

“I think I will.” She takes out her cell phone and calls the emergency hotline. She describes you and König, giving details about the odd situation that unfolded before you all today. She tells them the address and describes the semi the best she can, but she never got his license plate. The man on the line thanks her and they get off the phone.

Because of the adrenalin that flooded through your body, you ended up crashing hard and falling asleep after an hour. König was relieved, but now paranoid that someone might have called for help. Every few minutes he looks over his shoulder to check if he’s being trailed by a cop. This whole situation made him realize you’re safer at home where you can use the bathroom and eat inside the house instead of interacting with the outside world. You’ve lost those privileges.

Hours pass since the incident; you don’t know exactly how much time though. You open your eyes to very bright sunlight flooding your vision. You try to move your hand in front of your eyes to block the light, but you’re still cuffed. This time though you realize your legs and arms are handcuffed spread apart. You’re on a bed in some house. You lean your head forward and look around. You see a wooden desk, wooden dresser, and a dark blue recliner. Next to the recliner is a tripod and a ring light.

Trying to pull yourself free you realize that you’re completely naked. You begin to shake and pull, letting out an aggravated groan once you can’t pull your limbs free. Heavy footsteps travel down the hall, approaching the door to the room you’re in.

König opens the door and walks forward towards you. He stops near the side of your bed and caresses your stubbly legs. “Finally awake.”

You look at him with fear in your eyes, “Where are we?”

“My house, our house.” He sits beside you on the bed. “Why did you run? I was so nice to you.”

“I- I,” you can’t even think of a way to answer without angering him and making things worse. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” König tilts his head to the side and looks at you with a blank stare.

“Yes.”

“No, you aren’t Maus. You’re just scared. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. You’ve just lost your privileges. You’re safe. Don’t worry.”

While he is trying to be comforting, he isn’t. He’s the one keeping you captive. He’s the one hurting you and taking you away from a happy life. You keep your eyes on him and then look back towards the bright light from the windows. You realize the window is open and there’s a light breeze coming in.

“Don’t bother screaming Maus, I live in the country. Just you and me for miles.”

You don’t look back at him, just let those words sink in and look out of the window.

“Welcome home, I’ll show you around soon. It’s a nice place to raise a family.”

Your head snaps in his direction, “A family?”

“Ja, Maus. A family. You’ll make me beautiful babies. Plus men will pay extra for your pregnant body.”

König rubs his hand along your abdomen and smirks.

Meanwhile, police have made their way to the truck stop you were seen at. They talk to the woman that was working the cash register that day.

“They came in, both went to the bathroom, and then next thing I knew she was running and he chased after her. When they came in they looked like maybe boyfriend and girlfriend? They were close.”

“Okay, are there any surveillance cameras I can look at?”

“I’ll have to get my boss.”

“You do that.” The cop puts away his notepad and looks around the store before the boss walks out.

“Right this way, officers.”

You don’t even know how much time has passed and there has been no sign of help. You remain inside of König’s home. Your stomach is growing, swollen with his child. An old medic friend from his military days comes to the house to check on you and the baby, König tries his best to take good care of you.

It’s a warm day and you stand outside in a green summer dress, 6 months pregnant. You’re kneeling in the flower bed and pulling weeds. You stand and begin to walk to the water hose, and then your chain pulls.

König has a metal shackle around your ankle, bolted to the house so you can’t run off. He hears the chain pull as he is behind the house trimming back bushes.

“Need something, Liebling?” He walks over to you wearing jeans and a black shirt, both covered in small green specks from the bush leaves.

“The hose,” You point only a few feet away from you.

He walks over and grabs it for you, “Don’t stress yourself out, you still have to film today.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

König leans in and puckers his thin lips waiting for you to kiss him. You tiptoe to meet him the rest of the way and kiss his lips. He smiles at you before slapping your ass and walking back to what he was doing.

You water the garden, feeling your baby move within you. Resting a hand on your stomach, you begin to caress your belly. You let out a deep sigh and look around, trying to imagine giving birth to your baby here and raising your child here. König as a father…how will that work? Will I eventually fall in love?

“Liebling, are you okay?” König walks up behind you, wrapping one arm around you resting on your stomach as the other takes the water hose from you. “You’re drowning the flowers.” His voice has a light chuckle.

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about giving birth. Being a mom. I’m scared.”

König drops the hose and wraps his arms around you.

“Don’t be scared. I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d make an amazing mom. Don’t stress you and our baby out, okay? I’ll run to the city tomorrow and get you whatever you’re craving.”

You nod your head, “Thank you König.”

“Of course, now let’s go film, ja?”

Filming was your least favorite thing to do, but it’s how König makes enough money to stay home with you, so you do it. He takes out a key and unlocks the cuff on your ankle. His arm goes around your body tightly so you can’t run away if you try.

Walking back inside, he brings you into the bedroom. “Shouldn’t I shower first?”

“Nein, the sweaty look is hot.” He kisses your forehead.

You sit on the bed as he sets everything up, placing the cameras where they need to be and making sure the lighting in the room is good. Once done he strips down to nothing, his cock soft but still 6 inches. He begins to record on all cameras and walks up to you on the bed.

He gets behind you and begins to massage your swollen breasts. You’ve already started to fill up in preparation for the baby, growing two bra sizes. König does everything he can to stimulate more lactation. He begins to squeeze your breast, forming a small wet patch on your dress. You look away embarrassed, he laughs. He squeezes more, letting the wet patches continue to grow, his erect cock rubbing against your back now.

“Let’s take this dress off Liebling.” He whispers as he helps you stand.

Once standing he slowly takes off your dress, his hand gliding over your pregnant belly. His lips kiss your neck tenderly as he makes his way down to your breast. Squeezing, he squirts a small amount of milk on his face before wrapping his mouth around your breast and suckling, drinking in any milk he can squeeze out of you. You let out soft moans as he licks your nipple before sucking again.

“Your milk is so sweet.” He growls as he seats up on the bed.

Again, he goes behind you and begins to squeeze your breasts for the cameras. Make sure to get good squirts of your milk, rubbing some of the milk all over your breast to make them shine. His head resting on your shoulder watching as he does this. Turning his head he begins to kiss the side of your face and you turn your head to meet his mouth and kiss him back.

He lets out a soft moan as he gently cups your breasts in his large hands. His tongue pushing into your mouth and twirling around, mixing your spit with his. Pulling away from the kiss a line of spit follows.

“Lay back Maus.”

You do as he says and lay back flat on the bed. He comes up and caresses your large stomach, leaving a trail of kisses up to your lips again as he positions himself between your legs. He reaches over and grabs one of the cameras and holds it angles at your pussy. He slaps his heavy cock over your tiny clit, causing you to mewl and move your hips. Disgusted with yourself because you actually want his cock.

“Beg for it.”

“Please fuck me.”

“Be more specific, Liebling.” He slaps your clit with his cock again.

“Please give me your cock. Please.”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.” He begins to slip his cock into you.

You moan out and grasp the bed sheets as you feel his cock push in all the way. His hand pulls one of your legs back, making sure to leave room for your big belly. He holds the camera up to your face and you make sure to act as if you don’t want to be recorded; he said the men like it more when I act like I hate it.

“Moan for me.” He taps your face.

You let out a tiny soft moan while suppressing the enjoyment that you’re feeling. He puts the camera down to rest his hands on your belly as he begins to buck his hips more rapidly into you. It hurts so you genuinely moan in pain and try to scoot back.

“Don’t run for it.” He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him.

“It hurts!” you moan out as you squirm.

König lets go of your hips and leans forward, holding your shoulders, and he begins to fuck you so hard you begin to scream.

“Ja! Scream for me! Hure!” He lightly slaps you but you act like it was worse.

Recording takes hours to complete. König helped you get all cleaned up after and chained you to the bed again, the chain is long enough for you to walk around the room, but bolted to where you can’t get to the door or window.

“I’m going into the city to get you food and treats, what are you craving?”

You shrug and think for a few seconds, “Maybe something cakey? Also, just some stuff to make brownies or cakes to have around the house.”

“I can do that.” He leans down and kisses you gently.

“I love you both, I’ll be back.” He caresses your stomach.

“We love you too…” you watch him leave the house.

Once you hear the car door close you rush to the drawers trying to look for something that you can use to break free from the shackles. As usual, there was nothing. You sit on the bed and cry, hugging your stomach.

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know what to do.” You whisper to your stomach. You feel torn between wanting to run towards freedom and wanting to stay here with König. A weird part of you beginning to feel for him, but also wanting your old life back. You can’t even recognize yourself anymore.

In the city König goes into a local grocery store. He collects everything you asked for plus just thing for the house. He finds a baby onesie that says “I love Daddy.” König holds the tiny little piece of clothing in his hands, smiling thinking about holding his baby in his arms. He adds the onesie to the cart.

He walks up to the front of the store and begins to bag his items as the older woman working the register scans his items. He looks around the store as he waits for his payment to process and he sees a board of posters.

“Here’s your receipt.”

König’s attention turns back to the nice woman. He smiles and grabs the piece of paper from her, grabbing all of his bags and walking to the poster board.

In big red words he reads the words MISSING. König stays there and reads the details. His heart sinks.

Young woman, your skin tone, hair color, body build. His semi-truck color, build, hair color. The fact you’re foreign and what language you speak is even listed. He can feel his cheeks turn red as he begins to sweat. He reaches up and rips the sign off the board and turns to leave the store.

He sits in his SUV and looks at the poster. He wonders how many there are and how much information the cops actually know.

“FUCK!” He yells in his SUV and he runs his hands down his face. He takes a deep breath before pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to speed home to you.

[syluscore]

Cameras Pt. 2

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count combined for both parts one and two: 8277

PART ONE

Content warnings: smut, sexual content, breaking n entering, stalker leon, obsessed leon, dirty talk, degradation, praise, grinding, slapping, spitting, choking, hair pulling, biting, aggressive sex, very brief mention of wanting to slice reader open and climb inside her, lots of begging, blowjob, throat fucking, taking pictures during sex, fingering, p in v sex, creampie

!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

The water for your shower had been running for a few minutes now, but as you sat on the toilet seat, your mind was elsewhere. Jumbled thoughts and random flashbacks to the past 2 days were consuming you. You’d been home for two hours now and had yet to do anything at all besides think and think. But you had to shower and probably eat something eventually so you opened your phone and connected to your Bluetooth speaker, allowing your brain to get lost in the music. Maybe music could chase the thoughts away, maybe you could have a few minutes of peace.

You stepped underneath the hot water and let out a deep sigh. You let the water wash over your body and focus on the lyrics of the song blaring through the speaker. Slowly washing your body as you swayed to the music. You found yourself mumbling along to the lyrics of the song as you ran shampoo through your hair. All that mattered right now was the music and washing yourself. You’d never taken such a serene fucking shower, but things had gotten weird since what you’d discovered about Leon.

Leon. So much for sweet inner peace. You weren’t any closer to knowing what you were going to do about him. How could you even show your face around the office knowing he’s there? You can’t manage to force yourself to forget about him and trust me when I say you’ve tried. You’ve desperately tried to push the fresh memories to the back of your mind. As time goes on, perhaps you could forget about what happened; or at the very least the memories could become hazy and your brain wouldn’t be plagued with replays of Leon and his cock. How do you forget a cock like that? Now you’re thinking about his cock again. You’re supposed to not be thinking about his cock. Stop thinking about his cock!

You finished washing yourself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself up snugly in a towel. You wiped the fog off the mirror and stared into your reflection. Why was this happening to you of all people? Maybe it wasn’t you specifically after all. It could just be a thing for Leon. He picks someone to obsess over until he’s bored and then moves onto the next fixation. He definitely knew what he was doing with the obsessive stalker shit. He could eventually move on and then you could move on as well. Now that you know about him, he could lose interest in you. 

God, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. You hope that isn’t the case? Why the fuck would you hope that’s not the case? This isn’t healthy at all. You hate the way the whole situation is making you feel. Well, hate is a very strong word and Leon doesn’t deserve to be associated with such a word. Uncomfortable? Nerve racking? Uneasy, tense, disturbed? You couldn’t think of a word to describe it. Exhilarating? Intoxicating? Maybe you loved it. Maybe a part of you hated it and the other part, a much bigger part, absolutely loved it in every way. Nobody or anything had ever been so devoted to you. Infatuated with you.

You’re one mentally ill human being. You shook the thoughts from your head as you made your way out of the bathroom. Dinner and some good sleep should help clear your mind. Your thoughts could be factory reset by the morning and you’ll be able to go about your day as if everything is normal. Welcome to the state of Denial, you’ve officially entered. Enjoy your stay with us and please come again. You’re losing your mind, you’ve gone mad. 

Upon entering your living room, you came to an abrupt halt. Your heart felt like it almost fell out of your ass and your muscles all tensed up as if preparing for impact. “What the fuck?” you yelled out, “What are you, the fucking cat whisperer?” The man on your couch just chuckled, not even looking up from the book in his hands. One of your cats was cuddled up against his leg and your other cat was on the back of the couch cuddled into his opposing shoulder. “What are you doing here? Is that my book?” you asked Leon.

He shut the book and laid it down on the other cushion on the couch. He looked up at you and replied, “You should really read the next chapter, things are really starting to heat up.” He talked so casually, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. All you could do was stand in place staring at him, eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to make of this situation. “How was your shower?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Good. What are you doing here?” 

“We have things to discuss,” he motioned for you to come closer to him, but you refused to move. “Come. Here,” he demanded and you shook your head at him.

“You couldn’t knock?”

“Why would I knock when you know I can just come in? Sounds like a waste of time to me.”

“Because you don’t live here! You could be a nice guy and respect boundaries, although it’s obvious you aren’t very good at that,” you shot him a dirty look and all he did was laugh. Comes into your place unannounced, scares the shit out of you, and he has the audacity to laugh at you. You two stared right at each other. An unspoken staring contest taking place between the two of you. You broke eye contact and sighed, slowly making your way over to sit next to him on the couch.

Leon had other plans, quickly darting his arms out to intercept you. He easily maneuvered you to straddle his thighs, causing you to let out an embarrassing shriek. 

“Leon, what the fuck? I’m basically naked! Let me go,” you exclaimed and tried to pull away from him, but he just held onto you tighter. He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you even closer to him.

“Oh wow, I thought you were fully dressed under your towel. My mistake,” he smirked as you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster with flushed cheeks. “Have you gone all shy on me? But you displayed everything so nicely for me in those photos,” which caused you to avert your eyes away from him, staring at the cushion underneath you.

He grabbed your chin and brought your face back up to his and you couldn’t help but finally take in his appearance. He was wearing a button up shirt with the top few buttons undone, exposing the light hair on his chest. The sleeves were pushed up above his elbows, extenuating his huge biceps. He could wrap that bicep around your throat, slowly drain the life from you and you’d die a happy little content slut.

You brought your eyes back up to meet his, but his eyes were wandering elsewhere. His eyes looked across your exposed collarbones, down your arms, exploring the valley of your exposed thighs on either side of him. His eyes devoured you in a way that sent chills down your spine.

He finally met your gaze and you didn’t give yourself time to think before your right hand was raising up to his cheek, gently rubbing it. “You’re a fucking creep,” you said, your eyes never leaving his. Both your hands tangled up into his dirty blond hair as you continued, “What kind of a person breaks into someone’s house and jerks off with their panties? You’re a freak of nature. They should study people like you. What’s wrong with you?” He ground his hips up into you and you could feel his hard cock rubbing against you.

You pulled his hair as he brought his mouth to your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe. You had to fight back the moan that threatened to spill past your lips. He brought his mouth right up against your ear and spoke, “What kind of slut gets turned on by such behavior, huh?” You slowly start grinding yourself against his jeans, your exposed cunt making contact with his covered cock. You pulled your hands away from him, causing him to pull his mouth away from your ear and lean back so he could look at you.

You don’t know what came over you, but you pulled your dominant hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. “Anyone turned on by what you do is fucking deluded,” you told him as his hands pushed your towel up past your hips. His hands gripped so tightly into your hips you knew there’d be marks. You felt like your pelvis might snap in half between the pressure of his hands, but fuck did it make you so uncontrollably wet. 

“What was I supposed to do? The second I laid my eyes on you I couldn’t think of anything fucking else. I was jerking my cock what seemed like every hour for weeks after meeting you. I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to slice you open, climb inside your body, and fucking live there. But I obviously can’t do that, so I climbed inside your house, surrounding myself with your things, learned everything there was to know about you, so at the very fucking least I could be inside your mind,” he said as you two grinded into each other like your lives depending on it.

He continued, “I watched you install your stupid cameras and do you think I gave a shit? I put on a show for you so that I could overtake your fucking mind like you did mine. I’ve been watching you for so long, I knew you were a depraved, needy whore. I knew if I showed you the truth it’d make your little pussy wet. You were made for me, fuck, just look at you.” He grabbed the back of your hair and yanked your head back. You couldn't contain it anymore, his words working you up more than you could stand.

Whimpers, gasps, pants, moans, sounds you’d never made before in your life were falling from your lips as you continued getting that sweet friction against your weeping cunt. His hand left your hair and pulled your towel completely off, baring you completely before him. He took one of nipples into his mouth and sucked intensely, like he was a dying man and the only thing keeping him alive was his mouth on your body.

As he sucked on your breast, his eyes rose and stared back into yours. This sudden urge came over you and you let saliva pool in your mouth before spitting it out on his cheek. He stopped the assault on your breast and looked at you with a shocked expression on his face, trying to comprehend what you had just done to him. “You disgust me,” you said before he quickly wrapped his hand around your throat, completely cutting off your air. 

Your hand quickly shot up and gripped onto his. You weren’t trying to pull his hand away, oh no, you held his grip tighter. Your reflexes were kicking in, your mouth fell open as your lungs tried to suck in any air they could. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, but that didn’t stop you from feeling Leon spit right into your open mouth.

“Fucking look at you taking whatever I’ll give you. You’re a filthy whore and you can’t even help it. You sit here and call me all sorts of names because you love my obsession with you,” he spoke as your face felt on fire and numb at the same time. He let go of your throat and you began to greedily suck in the air you’d been deprived of.

Grabbing you by the shoulders, he pushed you onto the floor on your knees as he stood before you, undoing his belt and jeans letting them fall down until he was just in his boxers before you. Your vision cleared as you looked directly at his hard dick through his briefs. You could see the growing wet spot on them from his precum as he brought his hand to his bulge and started rubbing himself through his underwear. 

You looked up with pleading eyes, hoping he’d understand what you so badly wanted to give him, but understanding is not what you got.

“What is it, baby? Is there something you want? We have to ask for things when we want them, that’s a concept you’re familiar with right? Or are you just a stupid slut who expects me to give her whatever she wants without having to work for it, hmm?” he said, the pace in which he was rubbing himself picking up. You whined, maybe he would give in and just let you take him without having to speak the words out loud. He just stared at you, waiting.

You cleared your throat and forced out the words, “Please, can I please suck your cock? I need to taste you so bad, please. Please sir, please fuck my mouth like you deserve to.” Once the words came out you couldn’t stop them. You needed him so badly, all you could do was helplessly beg. “I’ll be so good, I’ll do whatever you want from me, just please let me take your cock. Let me show you I can be good. Let me show you how well my throat can take it,” you continued begging and almost started drooling as he slowly pulled his underwear down, letting them fall to his ankles.

You looked up at him, asking for permission, “May I, sir?” He ran his hand down your scalp, bringing it down to your cheek and massaging it underneath his palm. He suddenly pulled his hand away before a sharp slap met your cheek that had your brain going foggy. The pain spread through your face, causing your jaw to fall open in a groan. 

Leon took this opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth, your attention grabbed immediately as your lips wrapped around him. You let out a moan as the taste of his precum flooded your mouth. The pain from the slap mixed with his taste had your eyes rolling back into your head as you sucked him in as hard as you could.

Leon’s head fell back in pleasure as a moan of your name fell from his lips. You pulled his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to spur him on. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping him while you took his cock as deep as it could go in your throat. The sheer size of his member still blew your mind despite seeing it over camera twice. Nothing could compare to him being right in front of your face.

One of his hands tangled in your hair as the other one fiddled with something behind him. “Hey,” he said, grabbing your attention away from the work you were doing on his cock, “You can say no, okay?” You raised an eyebrow questioningly as you didn’t know what he was trying to say. He pulled up your Polaroid camera and it started coming together in your brain. You whimpered realizing he wanted to take pictures of the two of you together.

The idea rushed feverishly through you and straight down to your cunt. You’d never thought of taking pictures in the act. You both knew you’d taken plenty of pictures alone, but the thought of doing this with Leon and having the pictures for both of you to hold onto? You could feel the arousal pooling down your thighs as you nodded your head once to let him know to please continue. He smiled down at you, “Atta girl. Put on a show for me and I’ll make it worth your while, yeah?” The hand still held in your hair pulled tightly, causing you to close your eyes as you kept up your work on his cock.

You lost yourself in pleasing him. Giving him pleasure gave you pleasure as well. The way his cock stretched your mouth around him was heavenly. He was thrusting into your mouth, pushing himself down your throat. Tears were pouring down your face, but you didn’t want him to stop. You loved feeling like this, loved when your mind went foggy as he used you.

“Look at me,” he suddenly demanded. You looked up and your eyes immediately looked into the camera as he snapped a picture of you. “Fuck, such a good girl. So good for me, your mouth is, fuck, fucking perfect,” he whined out. The sound was pure sex, causing you to moan around his dick.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me into your slutty cunt, huh?” he asked you as you pulled your mouth off his cock sucking in a deep breath.

“Please, please. I want you to fuck me so bad. I want you to use my pussy until you cum, sir,” you were once again pleading for him. You couldn’t find shame within you anymore. Your need heavily outweighed your pride. And knowing he liked you like this? You wanted to give yourself over to him whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

He walked around you, pushing you forward so that your chest was laying on the cushions of your couch, knees still on the floor as he spread them wider before him. You looked back at him just in time to see him take a picture of you bent over for him. After the photo was pushed out of the camera, he brought the device closer to your sopping pussy and took a picture of how wet and needy you were for him. He sat the camera down and started kneading both his hands into your ass cheeks.

Leaning forward he kissed your shoulder as one hand slipped down between your thighs and rubbed your clit gently. He ran his fingers up and down your folds before sinking a finger into your wet heat. You couldn’t help but whine at this point. You were so worked up, you could’ve taken his cock immediately, but you were also too worked up to be able to voice this. He slid another finger in as you let out a long, high pitched moan. 

“Are you ready for me, baby? I need to feel your pussy around my cock,” Leon asked you as you nodded your head as fast as humanly possible. He chuckled at your neediness before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to your lips. “Here, be a good girl and clean this up for me,” he could barely finish his statement before you were sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He let out a deep moan as his other hand pulled back and smacked your ass hard. 

He wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed the tip against your wet hole, causing you to instinctively push yourself back, trying to take his cock. This earned you another smack on your ass. You moaned as you arched your back from the pain. Leon took this opportunity and slammed himself all the way inside of you, which had you unintentionally biting his fingers that were still being held in your mouth. He moaned at the way your teeth dug into his fingers before pulling them out and running his hand down your back.

You turned to look at him, begging, “Please move Leon, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, please please please please.” You couldn’t help but move your ass around to get some sort of movement within your pussy. You were so desperate, you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling your head back to rest on his peck as your back arched even further for him, “I’ve got you sweet girl.” He finally, finally, started moving and moans were already falling from your lips uncontrollably. “That’s it, you take me so well. Gonna make you feel so good,” Leon praised you. He had completely switched from the degrading way he spoke to you earlier and the praise had you melting beneath his touch. Your walls flutter around his cock in approval.

His pace picked up as he ruthlessly began pounding into you. You were uttering incoherent phrases at him as the pleasure was coursing through every nerve in your body. Leon leaned forward and buried his head in your neck, letting loose the most pornographic moans you’d ever heard. You didn’t know what was giving you more pleasure, the way he was fucking you or the way he sounded.

You pulled your hands from where they were gripping the couch and wrapping them behind you, tangling his hair in your fingers as you pulled his mouth to yours. The kiss was messy and loud, moaning as your tongues clashed together desperately trying to feel every square inch of each other. Leon’s hands released their grip on your thighs and ran them up to your stomach until he reached your breasts, where he rubbed your nipples between his fingers, further driving you crazy.

You felt yourself slowly climbing that mountain, heading towards release, when Leon’s movements suddenly stopped and he pushed your chest back into the couch, pressing you into it with both hands. You were whining and pushing yourself up and down his cock while he held you in place. “That’s it, fuck yourself with my cock. You look so good like this, so fucking needy,” Leon barely formed the words together as he got lost in the sight of you. He rested his hands lazily on his hips, holding himself up as you forcibly fucked back onto his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please fuck me. I’m so close I need you to fill me up, please,” you begged, wearing yourself out from your movements, hardly able to catch your breath but unrelenting in your need to cum. 

Leon gave into your request, pushing his hands into your back, holding you in place as he ruthlessly fucked into you. He let out a loud moan before speaking, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Cum with me sweet girl. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” You couldn’t formulate a response, but after a few more hard, sloppy thrusts you were screaming Leon’s name and all sorts of profanities as you came. 

After feeling you squeeze his cock so tightly, Leon was cumming deep inside your pussy. Thrusting into you through his orgasm, pushing his cum further inside of you. Your knees gave out beneath you, but Leon was quick to grab your hips and hold you up. He slowly slid his cock out of you, taking in the view of his cum slowly dripping down your thighs. If it was possible, he would’ve cum again at the sight alone. 

He helped you turn over and lay on the floor right beside your couch as he laid down right next to you. You were tightly sandwiched between the couch and coffee table with him, but you didn’t mind. You wanted to be as close to him as possible. You rolled onto your side and threw your leg and arm over him, chin resting on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, catching your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was a sharp contrast to how you’d just been moments ago and it would’ve given anyone whiplash, but to you both it made perfect sense. 

Leon pulled away and spoke softly, “There’s only one thing I’m not sure of. Why’d you get the cameras?” You let out an airy laugh and were about to speak when you were interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by one of your cats zooming through the living room and into your bedroom away from the noise.

“What the fuck was that?” you yelled, whipping your head towards the kitchen. “That’s why I got the damn cameras! Between the cats, and apparently you, I was beginning to believe I was living with a poltergeist.”

Leon laughed before speaking, “Hey, I’m careful. That’s all on them or the poltergeist.”

~masterlist~

[shkika]

So on the topic of iterators playing video games, this:

which is a part of the set of holograms Iggy can show Moon after Rivulet powers her back up. Which based on the colors, grid, and way the tiles change, is probably Moon and Pebbles playing the iterator dominoes

(It's funny to think one of first message Moon sent to Pebbles after hundreds of cycles was essentially "Hey you wanna play games")

(I need Saint playing Dominoes with Moon now)

I'm beyond mentally ill for those two! I'm very aware of their domino shenanigans. If you pay attention to Moon's projections you can see a lot of neat stuff. Actually let's talk about that!

I think them playing together is just so.. fitting and beautiful. It's such a simple way to connect with others. Playing games is one of the easiest ways to build or rebuild friendships. Any kind of games. Something casual you can talk and share while you do. And those two have plenty to talk about.

Aside the games though..

Ramble about a bunch of her projections in Saint and Riv campaigns below! It was very fun!

Moon also remembers her various slug cat companions through the cycles.

She tells Hunter how she wishes she could remember them. And now she can. Moon can remember her savior and remember just how hard her family and peers tried to contact her, to reassure her, to show how they cared. Even this image on it's own speaks a lot. Moon couldn't have taken it, because she was offline before that key ended up in her chamber. So it was Iggy. One of the overseers she no longer has control over yet tried to help her anyway. It's sweet.

It makes it canon that Monk met her and gave her two neurons! A thoughtful and kind creature.

Pet pictures of course! Here is little demon baby.

Moon also has pictures of the local group in the distance! She never stopped trying to look after them and be a local group senior. Checking up on them in the only way she really can. I think that's sweet.

And what honestly breaks me is uh..

These. She also never stopped being Five Pebbles' administrator.. or more accurately his big sister. Checking up on how he is doing and the situation with his rot. It just makes me ache a little. It's been way too long for her to be angry anymore. She can finally talk to him and they both know it won't be for long.

Moon also has pictures of Silent Construct.

Unless I am mistaken of course. But I get the idea that she has trouble reaching him. Or she can't find him. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Moon's overseers can’t reach Five Pebbles anymore. I don't think she'd stop being his company otherwise. Silent Construct is a place that has crumbled very badly and who knows in what state overseer tunnels are.. especially with the dense scavenger populations, it must be difficult to reach him.

Of course we also have the fallen buildings of her local group in the distance. No longer standing. Their time is over.

And! Something a little more fun is that she has a projection of the Moon. Looks to the Moon alright! How silly and sweet.

Hope you like the view Moonie.

[holographic-mars]

MAAARSSS do you have any mcb headcanons or theories?

EHEHEEE I Don’t really have any theories yet and ! I don’t have many hcs but here are the few I do have!!

Since cardbots can’t be kept in the Metal Breath all the time they rotate sleeping in the Metal Breath and out of the Metal Breath to keep everything healthy and well working. When they aren’t in the Metal Breath, they usually sleep in a pile. They usually pile on top of their bigger comrades for warmth and safety. This meant Black Hook, Fleta Z, eventually Heavy Iron (despite his grump and protest) tended to be at the bottom of the pile.

Cardbots partake in communal grooming to strengthen bonds and trust as well as keep everyone clean, a lot like primates do! Jun and co. figure this out, of course, and make sure to keep the bots clean and strengthen his place in the family.

Jun makes sure to give every new member a good clean (when and if allowed by the bot) to establish their place in the family as well as his own

Aside from his crewmates, Buffalo Crush always goes to Yuri first to get cleaned. She is always happy to oblige when she has the time. She loves her little Buffy

Grooming also alllows teammates to get familiar with the weaknesses in each bot’s frame so that in battle, they know what needs to be protected

Wild Guardy tends to be more solitary and picky about who he allows to touch him. This also goes for who he will sleep next to at night

Upon being brought into the team, Rock Crush was very weary and panicky about who he let groom him and care for him. After a while, Glober had to stop by frequently to help him ease into the family

The cardbots never know how to reciprocate the grooming to their human companions, so they kinda just. Ruffle their hair

There isn’t any kind of discrimination or weirdness about disabilities/illnesses. Physical or mental. Upon finding out that a bot has an impairment, such as with Phoenix Fire or Rock Crush, proper adjustments are made with ease.

ANYWAYS!!!!! THATS IT!!!!!!!!! Thank you for the ask this was very fun. I’m sorry it’s all lame and domestic I’m just too soft and squishy .

[kissitbttr]

can’t stop thinking about simon falling for harley quinn reader typa beat

it’s a slow burn for sure, definitely not love at first right because he hates her guts the first time price introduced her during debrief session. she's fucking deranged. has murdered countless of innocent people before and not to mention shoplifting?? like why would price think it'd be a good idea to have her as a temporary addition to tf141? this woman is a criminal. he hates how cheery and giddy she is, always waving her hand to greet the team, acting like she hadn’t done some very questionable things, dropping offhanded comments that makes him choke in his own spit, parading herself in short black and red outfits that barely covers her ass and chest EVEN during the mission. it annoys him to the fucking bone.

but then as time slowly goes by, he begins to warm up to her existence. he’s starting to care about her well-being, putting a mental note on what she likes and dislikes, stealing glances at her way to see if she’s comfortable ever so often. he notices how she carries a red lipstick wherever she goes. black if she’s not feeling herself. his lips often twitches into a small smile whenever she does something cute to him and always always making sure she's okay during every single mission. ‘you okay, love?’ or ‘tell me if something’s bothering you, yeah?’ is what he always says. sometimes when the team has to split up, he’d be the first one to say ‘she’s with me’ and it makes her heart warms.

he's amazed at how well she handles rifles, all while looking and acting pretty. (he finds her adorable overtime too but he'd die before admitting that to her). when he lent her his signature AAC Honey Badger, he was impressed by how smoothly she used it, but nothing beats the way she kills enemies with her pink oversized mallet.

‘i can kill them in five, boys ! just give me a sec’ is what she says in a cheerful tone with a giggle after price had notified that there’s too much guards for them to handle. before price could even protest, she already loaded up her gun and walk towards where the guards are. it was something ghost had never found so attractive before but the way she said it? the confidence? her strutting like she owns the shit? considered him rock hard at that point.

before she goes, she tells the boys to wait while she does her thing. but not before sending a wink to ghost’s direction. she has a spot for him, she makes sure he knows that.

the team watch her gracefully killing the enemies through the cameras. small splash of blood painted her face as she smiles up at the camera to give the boys a small wave. she then jumps to one of the guard and put them in a headlock, suffocating him with her thighs to crack his neck in one swift motion (oh he’d do anything to let her do that to him)

‘fucking hell… look at this lass go’ soap tsked, others agreed. especially simon. this is the first time he had found a woman looking incredibly sexy and sophisticated while blowing someone's head off. it’s almost impossible a woman like her actually exists.

so the moment he hears her being held captured by the enemies, his blood runs cold. ghost. goes fucking. BALLISTIC. like 100% feral, no one could stop this man from tearing down the whole fucking sky to save her. so he makes up a plan to save her with the team. from there, add this scene while we're on it. safe to say she was truly moved by it.

‘oh… you were actually going to save me?’ she asks giving him her puppy dog eyes,

he grumbled while nodding sheepishly, his grip around the rifle tighten. ‘yeah.. and it was a pretty damn good plan too’

‘i’m sorry... well, i can go back in again if you still want to do it..’ her voice coming out soft and tender,

he smiles softly underneath the mask. even with dried up blood decorating her nose and the corner of her lips, he still finds her beautiful,

mentally ill but beautiful.

‘no—no that’s okay. ‘m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart’

he finds being with her is easy. just as easy as breathing. his once cold heart now softened because of her. and it is reserved only for her

-

i’m a firm believer that ghost is into batshit crazy women he can’t fix

[dsvoid]

remember when i said i was beginning to relate more and more to michael? well,

i think it’s easy to underestimate his character and not really understand who he is, but once you start acting like him, it gives you a new perspective in the whole of solitaire. michael is a very angry individual, i think we all know that. however, he is not portrayed like how angry characters usually are. his anger stays inside, like a lion waiting to attack. michael lives hiding a part of himself, somewhere so deep in his mind that whenever it is able to come out it becomes his worst nightmare ever. unlike most angry characters, the anger doesn’t affect the rest, it affects him.

i think this is so important to talk about, because yes, solitaire is tori’s book, but michael brings very important details to the story. i know most of the fandom likes to talk about him as a silly little guy, and that’s valid, because he also is that. my mind just won’t be at peace until we all realize a bit more how important he is.

anger will bring him down. that’s not something we can argue about, it’s the truth. and yes, it sounds silly, anger, really? that’s the thing that’s gonna bring him down? well, not exactly. anger is the first symptom of losing yourself. you start keeping all the anger to yourself, not really knowing what to do with it or why it’s becoming bigger and bigger. as this continues, you start hating, loathing every single moment of your life that doesn’t go as planned. before you even know it, you’re isolating yourself, afraid of any chance of the anger getting stronger.

if i were to show this with a scene of the book i would choose the one were michael finally explodes at tori. because at that moment, he has been trying so hard to be her friend, and attempt after attempt, she’s just been making things difficult. i say this from an objective perspective, because we know tori wasn’t in the right headspace, but that doesn’t mean michael’s wasn’t bad mentally as well. it’s what i said before, you start loathing everything that doesn’t go your way. and in this case, his friendship with tori wasn’t going his way. it’s a very hard topic to explain because i have been in both ends, mostly in michael’s, and it is extremely difficult to deal with. we know michael doesn’t have friends and probably didn’t have before either, which means he has been carrying this issue his whole life. it’s obvious he was going to explode. he keeps trying and trying and nothing goes his way. he can’t make friends to save his life, oh and look, he also failed the competition of what he is supposed to be great at, perfect!

i guess i just wanted to talk about this because as i said, feeling like this is not great. it sucks. it’s horrible to experience but so normalized as well. people like tori get talked about behind their backs. everyone has a bit of bitterness in their voice when they talk about them, spitting how being mentally ill doesn’t excuse you for being a bad person. people like michael get pitied. the people who keep a smile and don’t stop trying even when they’re dying inside. everyone feels bad for them, but no one cares enough to make a difference.

[madi-writes-things]

Francesca Pt. 1

Summary:

It broke Schlatt when he had to let Y/N go, But he would go through hell a thousand times if it meant he got to hold her again.

“If I could hold you for a minute… I’d go through it again.”

Word Count: 1.09 K

TW: Mental Illness, angst, ocd, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, break up, pining, feelings of worthlessness, basically a self insert without a physical description, Based in Texas… because so am I

A/N: I’m totally ok, and definitely not scared of my mental illness… 👀

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

My bags are packed before Jay gets home. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be. I should probably leave before he gets here, but he deserves an explanation. I’m not really sure what to say when he gets here, but he doesn’t deserve to be ghosted…

When the door opens I regret my decision to stay. He’s holding an H-E-B bag with frozen pizzas and ranch.

My favorite.

The second he locks eyes with me I break down. The bag falls from his hand as he rushes to pull me into a hug.

“What’s wrong pumpkin? What happened?” His voice is filled love and tenderness, very different from his online persona. It makes me cry harder.

“I can’t do this Jay… I-” He pulls me impossibly closer, mumbling a quiet ‘don’t do this’. “I already packed everything into my car. I can’t ask you to stay, I wouldn’t do that to you…”

He knows that I’ve been struggling lately, but I would never ask him to understand the extent of my anguish. I could never tell him about my hours spent researching. The notes. The fear of being alone with myself.

All I’ve ever wanted is to marry the man of my dreams, and have a big family. My mind constantly tells me that I can’t have it…

Nobody would want to deal with you, he’d get tired of it eventually. What if your kids are crazy like you? You don’t want to run the risk that he has to find you dea-

“You aren’t doing anything to me, you don’t have to do this… we can get through this, we can get you whatever help you need… please…”

I’m doing this because I love him. I can tell when he sees the look in my eyes, he mumbles a quick okay before leaving to put the pizzas in the freezer.

I run to lock myself in the bathroom… I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“”“”“”“”“”

When I finally get myself together, I leave the bathroom on a mission to get out quickly. It takes me a while before I realize what’s happening.

“where the hell did you put my keys Jay?” I see him sitting at our table, set with two plates of pizza and two glasses of wine.

“You’re not driving right now… I just heard you have a twenty minute panic attack, you’re in no headspace to drive.” I know he won’t give me the keys, no matter how much I try to convince him. “Do you even have anywhere to go?” I just shake my head. He gets up and walks into our bedroom.

I can hear him on the phone with Ted, he’s asking if I can stay in LA with him. When he returns, we sit down to eat the now cold pizza.

“What did he say?” I didn’t necessarily want to move across the country, but we both know I wouldn’t be able to actually leave well enough alone if I stayed.

I can tell that he’s been crying, but I know that this is what’s truly best for him in the long run. “He said yes, obviously. I’ll drive you to his place, and catch a flight back.” I knew that there was no convincing him to leave me alone for extended periods of time… I wonder if Ted told him not to let me out of his sight.

He probably did.

After dinner Jay offers to sleep on the couch, but I tell him that I don’t want our last night to be spent in different parts of the house.

He holds me as I cry myself to sleep.

This is what’s best for him.

“”“”“”“”“”

The nearly twenty hour drive was silent, stopping whenever the gas gauge lit up. Jay always knew what to get me from the gas station, while I stayed in the car reading. About halfway through the ride he finally decided to play some music, our shared playlist flowing through the tense atmosphere.

I decided to take a nap at some point, and was awoken by Jay gently shaking my shoulder while handing me some food that he had gotten. “We’ve only got about an hour left… you need to eat, and I think we should talk about it.”

No. You can’t handle this, the car ride is hell as is… and now he wants you to talk about why you’re breaking his heart?

“There’s not much to talk about Jay… there isn’t any way to convince me that it was a mistake.” I can see the hurt look in his eyes when I say it, and I really didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. “I love you so much… and I promise, this is for you.”

He starts to try and argue, before settling on asking about publicity. My only response is that we can deal with it separately. I finish my food, and finish the last few chapters of my book.

“”“”“”“”“”

It takes less than an hour to move all of my stuff into Ted’s guest room.

Ted is my best friend, and we’ve known each other for years. He introduced me to the job prospects of the internet. He introduced me to all of his colleagues when I was first starting on YouTube…

He introduced me to Jay.

After helping move everything in, Jay got ready to fly out. He said a quick goodbye to me, before going outside to talk to Ted.

They were out there for a really long time.

What if he’s convincing Ted that you are a horrible person?

What if they’re working together to get you put away?

What if you opened the window?

What if you jumped?

My phone is in my hand immediately, looking up the likelihood of injury/death from a second story jump. Very unlikely. Shit.

All of the sudden, the walls feel too close. The window is too far. I hear Jay’s Uber leaving, and everything starts to collapse.

This was a mistake. I just ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s too late. He hates me. I should have just left a note and Jumped off the congress avenue bridge.

I can’t breathe.

I hear a soft knock at my door, and hear it creak open. Ted sits down in front of me, placing my hand on his chest. We work on breathing exercises that he taught me years ago. When I finally feel slightly normal, he pulls me into a tight hug.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos @memento-rory

[psalm40speakstome]

Love Next Door. Episode Eight.

I don’t fully understand why she didn’t tell him. Other then that impossible expectations has to be perfect and self reliant thing she internalized from her parents. I also think it’s possible she wanted to keep something beautiful free from the cancer narrative and that was Choi Seung Hyo .

And as someone else pointed out she hides the hard and pretends everything is okay.

But I DO understand her turning to the ex in the moment of pain and crisis.

As devastating and sad as that is for Choi Seung Hyo as chronically ill human it makes perfect sense to me.

Those moments are literally about survival. You can’t explain. You can’t function and you need the person who already knows what’s going on and how to help. There’s no other option.

Sure he could have taken her to the hospital but the explanation she would have needed to do, the things she would have revealed(because it’s a secret) and even the amount of stress Choi Seung Hyo would have felt(and very rightly to feel it too)

Would have been emotionally and mentally to exhausting.

And Bae Seok Ryu was in excruciating pain.

As much as I don’t believe for one second she’s still into her ex….He clearly knows and was there for at least some of it(and failed her fairly heavily too)

So in that moment she turned to him. It feels very significant because we know how devastating it is to Choi Seung Hyo.

And in some ways it is. Like obviously walking through fire with someone isn’t a small thing.

But it’s also just being in crisis and picking the safety of not having to do any extra work in that moment.

This show is bringing out a ton of growth and nuance for these characters and I can’t wait to see where Bae Seok Ryu goes with Choi Seung Hyo.

We KNOW he’s her safest place…I’m just so excited for her to really realize it and act accordingly.

To really truly stop hiding her pain. And not suffer alone.

I am completely and utterly brokenhearted for him though. Like seriously finding that out three years after?

I would be gutted and betrayed.

[celiamae99]

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, talk about anxiety, depression, and mental illness, talk about self harm, almost self harming, physical and mental abuse, mature themes

Mature readers ONLY. 18+. I will check profiles periodically and will block minors bc this post is MA!

John B was mad. He was mad at JJ and he was mad at you. When he agreed to his baby sister (by 2 minutes) dating his person, he never thought it would result in fights this alarming. Sarah stood next to him, your best friend. Your person. While Sarah was yours, JJ was his. And it was awful to watch their favorite people be in this much pain. They were watching the fight like a tennis match.

“Would you just admit that you have a hero complex and the need to save everybody?” You screamed at him. They were standing in the kitchen, arguing again about JJ taking the bike and being reckless again.

“I’m trying to save you! And John B! And Kie, Sarah, Pope. Don’t you get that?” JJ screamed back at you. “And if that means getting hurt, or even killed, I’ll do that! I’ll do that for you guys because I love you.”

Tears streamed out of your eyes, running fast down your cheeks. “But what about me?” You demanded. “What do I do when you get wrapped up in something that so messed up that you can’t come back from it? That John B and I can’t fix for you. What if you do? What do I do then?” You yelled at him.

JJ and John B stared at you as you screamed. “Huh?” You screamed after a minute. “Answer me!” You screamed, shoving JJ back. JJ, mind going quickly into fight or flight mode, shoved your hands away, causing your wrist to twist and crack. John B quickly stepped in between you guys, preventing anything from happening further.

“Don’t do this guys!” John B yelled at you both, eyes ablaze.

You froze for two seconds. You shoved JJ. You’re sweet JJ, who loved you so much he was willing to sacrifice himself so that you would be okay. The JJ who’s dad was a dick to him, beat the crap out of him every chance he got; verbally abused him because he did have anybody else to take his crap out on. You shoved him. Instinctively you pulled your wrist to your chest.

“I - I -” You stumbled over your words. Trying to find the right ones to apologize, but JJ ran out the back door of the house before you could say anything.

“I have to go after him, make sure that he doesn’t -”

You nodded. Sarah coming up next to you as you fell into her arms sobbing as you tried to wrap your mind around what had happened.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

You spent the whole day in your room. Once you stopped sobbing, Sarah took you to your room and you climbed into your bed, holding the stuffed animal JJ had won for you when you were 10 and staring at the wall. Sarah didn’t try to talk to you, she just sat with you until John B got back. You heard mumblings of their conversation but didn’t try to understand what you couldn’t hear. Your mind was reeling.

Sarah made you eat a banana and drink water. She said the potassium would be needed and that you couldn’t get dehydrated.

Later that evening, John B came into your room and sat down on your bed. “We’re having a fire tonight, just our people. Kie, Sarah, Pope, me.” He didn’t say JJ. “JJ’s at work, said he has a car to fix up, he’ll probably show up late.” He continued on. “You need to get out of this room.” He deadpanned. “I’ll carry you out if I have to.”

You knew he was right. So after five minutes, you got out of bed, threw your hair in a very messy bun and an old maroon sweatshirt of JJ’s and grey sweatpants.

You walked into the living room and saw Sarah talking quietly with John B. When you entered room, they quickly turned their conversation to you.

“You look like shit,” she told you, scanning you from head to toe.

You rolled your eyes. “She definitely knows how to charm you, Big Bear.”

“She sure does.” You had been calling John B Big Bear for your whole life, and he in return called you Baby Bear.

“You need tequila,” Sarah decided after a minute.

“Yes I do.” You nodded in agreement. John B rolled his eyes and sighed. Tequila and you had never been good friends unless you were sad, and in which case, meant that you tried to drown your sorrows with tequila.

You had grabbed your bottle of tequila, favorite blanket, phone, and crocs before heading out to join the rest of the gang. Once you got there, you settled yourself on the long that you usually shared with JJ.

Kie and Pope were together and so we’re John B and Sarah. They were talking about a double date they were going on tomorrow, which left you to look out at the water and your mind wander.

After everybody had gotten a little buzzed and or a little high, you went into your dark and twisty place. How could you have shoved JJ? After everything that his father had done to him, you did that? How could you guys come back from this? What if he left you?

You always knew you weren’t good enough for JJ. You thought it all the time. Even when JJ tried to reassure you, there was still the nagging thought in the back of your mind, telling you that you weren’t enough. JJ was so much better than you, and he could have anybody he wanted, so why did he settle on you? You weren’t special. You weren’t smart and kind like Pope, you weren’t chill and relaxed like Kiara, you weren’t overly ambitious and hopeful like John B, you weren’t witty or gentle like Sarah, you weren’t feisty or adventurous like JJ. There wasn’t anything that made you special, you thought.

The grounding exercises that your therapist gave you hardly worked anymore. You were too out of touch with your body to understand what you needed. You teared up. You blinked ferociously, refusing to cry. You had done enough of that today.

“Hey,” Sarah said plopping down next you and stealing half your blanket. You leaned in to her, sighing deeply. “You’re not allowed to go dark and twisty on me and not tell me.” You rolled your eyes. Sarah knew you better than pretty much anybody did, besides maybe JJ. She knew your thoughts were eating you alive.

“Do you think he’ll show?” You ask quietly, picking at your phone case anxiously.

“If he doesn’t, then he’ll have to deal with the wrath of me, and I don’t think he wants that.

“Sarah,” I whispered. “I was - I mean - I -” You stumbled over your words again, blinking faster than before as a few tears betrayed you. You’re breathing quickened. You were spiraling.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she kneeled in front of you as you let out a sob. “It’s JJ, Y/N/N. It’s not like it’s some dumb turon or Kook, it’s JJ.” She smiled at you, keeping her voice gentle, trying to calm you down.

You put your head in your hands and continued to cry, trying hard to catch your breath, but nothing worked. Sarah’s words weren’t registering in your brain. You could barely making out John B calling JJ and telling him to come over because of your anxiety, but you couldn’t find it in you to tell him to stop. You shook Sarah off you before you took off running towards the house. You needed to be alone.

You shut the door to the bathroom, hand over your mouth trying to stifle the sobs. You glanced around the bathroom trying to focus on something solid when your eyes landed on the razor.

You zeroed in. You hadn’t done anything in months. Before you and JJ were together. Sarah had caught you and made you start therapy. JJ and John B knew, and so did Pope but you didn’t talk about it a lot. There were bigger problems to worry about.

But the therapy wasn’t working. You weren’t going anymore. The pain was still there. Deep, caught in your chest. The numbness of cutting would take away the pain. It would stop. You inched towards the razor. Just one cut, you thought. It wouldn’t affect much and it would take away the pain, even if it was just for a few seconds. Nobody would ever know. You grabbed the razor. You didn’t hear the knocking on the door. You inched the razor towards your wrist and screamed when the door banged open and JJ caught you.

Both your eyes widened. You opened and closed your mouth repeatedly. Trying to make words, but for the third time today, the English language failed you.

“Y/N,” JJ said sternly. “Give it to me.”

You shook your head rapidly. “I need it to stop, JJ.” You said fast and quietly. “I just need to turn everything off.” JJ stepped forward. You gripped the razor tighter. “I just need it to all stop. Just for a minute.” You cried, chest starting to heave again.

“Sweetheart, this is not how you make it stop. If it stops, it doesn’t start again. It’s an addiction to you. And it’s not going to make it better, it’s only going to get worse. It may seem like a short term solution, but long term you know it will only cause you more pain.” You knew he was right. JJ was always right when it came to stuff like this. “Baby, I’m going to grab it now.” He took it gently from your hand and threw it into the sink. He grabbed you just in time as your legs gave out. You let out guy wrenching sobs.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Once you had calmed down from your episode, you lied back down on your bed staring at the wall. JJ was back in the living room talking with John B and Sarah. After a little while, he slipped back into the bedroom and slid in next to you.

“We need to talk.” Those four words made you shoot up. You knew those words. You had used them on JJ when you had made the decision to split up for a few months a year ago.

“JJ,” you croaked. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t handle him leaving you right now.

“Just listen to me, okay?” He grabbed your hand. “We’re not in the same place right now.” He said gently, his whole gut, heart, and brain hating this, but he knew it was right. For both of you. “You’re so anxious, all the time. Anytime JB and I go to do something you panic until we’re back. If you go with, you panic until it’s done. You pushed me today babe. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, because I did. I needed a reality check, but babe, we need help.” He took a deep breath, his heart breaking. “And we need to do that apart, I need to do that apart.”

Tears welded up in your eyes again. This wasn’t happening. This could not be happening.

“JJ, please.”

“I’m not saying we break up, I’m saying let’s take a few months and -”

“Months?” You cried out. You didn’t want to be apart from him for more than a day, let alone months.

“Y/N. We need this okay? You need time to figure stuff out, I need time to figure stuff out. I’m not saying we break up -”

“It sounds like we are!”

“We just need time, okay? Talk to your therapist, work on you. We’ll go from there, okay? But for now, we need space.”

And with that, JJ left, taking your heart with him as he made his was to the couch, where he’d be spending most of his nights.

Pt. 2 coming!!!

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 22nd December ✨

I have been SO ill this week oh my god, I can’t even express how much hands this virus has 🤧 Thank you to all the shows who have kept me company this week!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (178) Olivier!!!! Oh, it is breaking my HEART that his parents essentially pulled him out and dropped him in bloody France with no more power and no way of finding out what happened to the rest of the expedition. He doesn’t even know about Riot 😭 Also, I wish the gang had just been told the truth about that chapel because, my god, if it’s not Marco that goes wandering in there, it’s definitely going to be Hope!! Eek, Cole, man!!! You are not showing that you understand any of the principles that made Clem a good detective!! She had a process and a Shelby and years of practice!! You, sir, are going to fuck this up! We obviously now know for sure that Heather was one of the quartet and I feel like Ignatius is probably one because of the fire. Who knows! The game is still definitely afoot! 

🦋 @remnantspod (20) I was warned that this episode would break my heart but did I heed that warning as I listened on my walk through the city centre? No. Did I pay the socially embarrassing price for that hubris? Maybe!! Pushing down the trauma of that remnant leads to some qs from me (please share if you have thoughts!!). We know that Stephen Grenville was just one of many names that the keystone character was using - do we know if the man in this remnant was the ‘original’ one or a ‘fake’ SG? I’m thinking about what he said about Celine’s paintings and her being unable to stop her own style peeking through, I didn’t catch a flash of the Perry/Stephen/Apprentice in this man. I feel like it would add such an interesting layer if the murderer we know about was stealing identities from nasty people. But maybe that's wishful thinking! Does it make the murdering better if there's a good reason?? Idk! No? I might need to dedicate myself to a relisten sometime soon! 

🎃 Waiting For October by @monkeymanproductions (2.5) Ah, Poe. I love that there are still people fond enough of him to listen to his story no matter how irritating he is generally! I am definitely not well read enough to catch all of the references to other authors and stories but I found his cawing belligerence amusing all the same!! I’m looking forward to what’s next for Karo and Yvonne! 

🎙️WTNV (260 - December Monologues) Such a great time of year. I love hearing from characters we don’t catch up with as much like the Faceless Old Woman. I don’t know what’s about to happen with Steve, but I am buckled in and ready to find out!! 

🍾 @ameliapodcast (39) Amelia and Alvina are just on a prison tour at this point! Sometimes there are quotes that you just need to immediately add to the mental bank and “I piss on your mother's grave and wipe my ass with your birth certificate!” is 100% one of them 😂

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (Q+A part 2)  my three take away points from this second part of the Q+A were 1) complete gratitude that Hero and I are on the same page about Scarry (who will most certainly return in late S2 right?). 2) I am soooo intrigued about your vague references to Olí and the Traveller’s relationship in S2 AND 3) Matt, that impression was genuinely horrifying. Thank you. 

🌵 @desertskiespodcast (1-4) I have been putting off listening to Desert Skies for too long because I knew it would make me emotional. Until Leon @tellnotalespod very correctly told me that a few tears are so worth it for the rest of the experience of listening to the show. I’m only a few eps in but I absolutely adore the balance of humour and heartache. I’ve literally had these characters for 2 hours and I would already kill for them!!

Have a lovely week, everyone! The days are getting longer and the nights are getting shorter!! 🫶

[wireheadbird]

Late

(DC) Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of gun, terminal illness, mentions of alcohol, angst, not proofread yet.

Summary: Y/N has a terminal illness, Lena offers to make a cure. 1258

______________________________________________________________

You called in sick for yet another day, allowing yourself to sulk in your despair. What else is a person meant to do once informed they have little time in their pathetic mortal life?

You and Lena weren’t that close anyway it was more of an employer and employee type of relationship. Perhaps with a few game nights with her friends here and there but that barely happened. Lena had tried calling you a few times but you let it ring. You watched it ring. What would you say if you picked it up anyway, ‘Hey I’m dying hope you don't mind me missing a few days’. 

For days on end Lena would call every few hours, along with concerned friends of hers. She was surrounded and loved by so many people, what difference would it make if it were one less. 

Nonetheless, Lena rummaged through her employee files till she found yours, scanning through it for your address and writing it down. She’s quick to gather her stuff and speed out the company building to your place with a casserole in hand. Once she arrives she knocks on the door only for it to open, seemingly unlocked, she double checks the sticky note for the apartment number in concern. A-401.

 You were a very cautious person, there's no way you would leave your apartment unlocked. She knocks once more before letting herself in and calling out your name, shutting the door behind her. Looking around at the dark apartment she notices how bottles of different colors and sizes littered the living room.

Her attention instantly spikes when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye, you stand there. Your disheveled figure leaning against the wall lit up by the light from the hallway you just came out from. Just as she was about to step towards you, concern etched on her face, you raise pointing your gun at her shakily with a bottle of something in your other hand. With the pungent scent in the air she could tell it was some sort of alcohol. 

“Woah there y/n, it's me, Lena.” she raises her hand in surrender. “Miss Luthor..?” your voice came out hoarse and shaky. “Yes, that's me” Lena was evidently more anxious now. You slide down the wall dropping your gun and taking a long swig of your beverage. She comes closer and realizes you were sweating and shivering at the same time, she takes the bottle from you and you don’t argue.

She places a hand on your forehead checking for a fever but you swat away her hand, Lena’s face contorts in confusion. “You have no fever…what’s wrong then?” she asks as she helps you up and onto your living room couch, pulling away the now empty bottle. You couldn’t think of a better way to break it to her, not like there was one in the first place. 

“I’m dying.” your voice doesn’t even quiver, making her think you were probably just exaggerating the feeling of being sick and she nervously chuckles “it can’t be that bad”. But it was. It is. “Lena. Look at me” You look into her eyes, “I’m dying Lena…”. You explain how you haven't been feeling well for a while, thinking it was probably from stress or sleep deprivation. But once the pain stopped being mental and became physical you had no option but to visit a doctor to get relief from the pain. Only to be diagnosed with a terminal illness you’ve never heard of. 

Once you finished explaining, Lena seemed completely out of it, her eyes wide and teary. So you reach for another bottle from the coffee table, next thing you know you were pressed back into the couch by a hug from a sobbing Lena. “You’ll be fine. You’ll live. I’ll find the cure myself” ______________________________________________________________

It's been days since Lena last visited. She shot you a few texts a couple times to check in on you, sending you words of encouragement and comfort. You couldn’t find it within you to spare any energy to make yourself any food and didn’t bother ordering takeout either which was out of character for you, you’d usually jump at the chance to order takeout. But you weren’t feeling up to it. And it seemed as if Lena had the same train of thoughts, because the day after she saw you in this state for the first time she sent you pre-prepped meals with delivery guys or sometimes takeout.

‘Hang in tight, I’m working on it.’ - Ms. Luthor 02:13 AM

A pang of guilt strikes through you. You hated how she pulled all-nighters to work on a slim to none chance of your survival. You tried ringing her to call it off and come up with some excuse but only wallowed deeper in your guilt after it went straight to voicemail.  ______________________________________________________________

It’s been almost a week since you last saw or spoke to Lena, she still sent food everyday so you knew she was okay. You however, not so much. You could feel yourself getting weaker, and on the fifth day you fell bed ridden. The delivery guys gave up on ringing the doorbell and just started leaving the food outside the apartment door. Which earned you knocks and complaints from the neighbors from the smell of the molding food. 

But you could no longer move, no longer speak, no longer stay awake to deal with the issue. Your phone seemed so close yet so far away, you couldn’t reach for it from how weak and pathetic you felt. All you did was sleep in an attempt to replenish your energy that way, all you wanted was to sleep. 

‘Hang on y/n…I’m almost there’ Lena thought to herself as she bottled the blue liquid packing a syringe with it, finally making a breakthrough after trapping herself in her lab in search of any sort of cure or treatment. She didn’t want to waste any time looking for her phone and quickly rushed out the company door wanting to get to you as soon as possible.

Once she arrives at the apartment building she’s met with the stinging scent of rotting food, she covers her nose taking out the spare key you gave her only to find out, once again. The door was unlocked.

Lena rushes into the apartment and into your bedroom, relaxing once she spots your body huddled up in between blankets and pillows. She slowly made her way to the bedside table turning on the lamp. “y/n?” she whispered as to not startle her. “I did it y/n I found the cure” Lena whispered, her eyes tearing up as she smiled excitedly. 

She waits for a response from you, her heart beating out of her chest in anticipation. Her brows furrow in concern, “y/n..?” she hesitantly reaches her hand out shaking you awake. Your body which was facing the wall, now laid on its back and your hand fell limp off of the side of the bed. 

Pale. Blue lips. A shaky hand reaches to check your neck for a pulse, her eyes widen and she flinches at the cold touch of your once warm skin. She stumbled backwards, losing her footing and falling to the floor into choked sobs. 

She was supposed to save you. You were supposed to live. You were supposed to make it. If only she had been earlier…perhaps you would’ve lived to thank her. 

But she was late…and you, gone too soon.

______________________________________________________________

my apologies for not being on, writers block goes hard.

[thefreakmeister]

*raises hand* i wanna hear your huntlow thoughts. elaborate

YES MY TIME HAS COME

to start off i need to clarify that most of these opinions are based on the understanding that if disney hadn’t cut season 3 we could have achieved enlightenment, but alas…

i think that with the time they had they did really good on developing the relationship! people who don’t get it or hate on it simply for being “rushed” are missing one key point: they don’t get into a relationship by the finale; we don’t know what the timeline of their relationship is so there’s no way for it to be too rushed!

(so i will be talking about them in the context of mutual crushes and not dating btw)

anyways moving on from the disclaimers and what not i think it’s one of my favorite relationships in the show, because it is not only cute, but i think it lets two characters who have been known to hold in emotions let them out and rely on each other. they are very much equals and work well together.

though i am someone who commonly has criticisms of shows for just pairing characters off for the sake of pairing them off and not growing the character, i only feel like that slightly about these two.

in willows case, i feel like she has had a lot of growth since the first season (haha plant pun) but obviously still has a way to go. she still struggles to express her emotions and feels the need to put up a facade of reliability. but hunter is someone she can rely on, and he makes that very clear!

hunter (despite the fandom-wide opinion) is not a baby. he’s strong and resilient despite his trauma and hardship. he obviously has issues but he is improving! him having a dorky little crush on willow makes sense, and gives him teenage experiences he missed out on in the emperors coven!

the thing i dislike about them is less the actual relationship the two of them have, and more the fanbases inability to separate the two now.

willow is a character who seems to never get love despite being an extremely well written deuteragonist who lifts up the other characters. she deserves appreciation on her own, not just because her and hunter are together in the timeskip!

and same with hunter, people need to stop portraying him as a character who just needs love to be fixed. pre-timeskip he definitely had to work on improving his mental health, and you just can’t write that down as “oh he and willow are in love so he’s better now”

i feel like the two of them commonly get made out to be this pairing of a broken male character and a nurturing female character when they’re not! they’re multifaceted, well written characters!

besides all the frustration with the mischaracterization, i think they’re cute and make sense together. whether you like them or not i think it makes sense for both of their development and they deserved more screen time fuck you disney.

EDIT BC I REMEMBERD SMTH: as someone who is aspec i feel like sometimes the aroace hunter headcanons can take away from his trauma and it comes off as “oh well he’s mentally ill so he can’t love someone” BUT MAYBE THATS JUST ME