#I just want to disappear I feel like I can’t do this

[remxedmoon]

so all you need to do right now is disappear.

HHHHAPPY ISATVERSARY EVERYONE. here’s redraws for every single battle cg in the game. 36 drawings this time around, with 11 of those being custom (though admittedly a good portion of those are edits). combined with the portrait redraws i made back in september, i’ve made 114 redraws for this project! jesus christ! just like those redraws, these are completely free to use!! as long as i’m credited and it’s not for commercial purposes, go wild!! do whatever you want!!!

no i didn’t make these for isat’s 1 year anniversary this is just wildly good timing.

i genuinely can’t fit all of these cgs in one post even with the 30 image limit on browser, but i’ll still try to fit Most of them below the cut (without making this post horrifically long), along with some notes that might be important 👍

okay! once again, i labeled all of the custom art as such in the drive, but if you want a full list, the customs are hatless siffrin jackpot, bonnie jackpot, bonnie special attack, bigfrin attack, and a bunch of alts which are definitely not related to any projects i’ve been thinking about don’t worry about it. and out of those customs, only like. 3 of them are actually completely from scratch.

while i did my absolute best to keep the aspect ratios completely the same as the originals, there’s 3 exceptions that i just couldn’t get to work.

isabeau’s hair in his special attack cg wouldn’t fit in frame if i kept things completely accurate to the og, so i moved his cg down a bit. it shouldn’t cause any issues with modding or anything, it’ll just appear slightly lower than it does in game. alas…

isabeau’s sleeve and mirabelle’s hair made their jackpot sprites a little larger than the originals? i’m hoping this doesn’t have too much of an effect (since the jackpot sprites have inconsistent sizes) but i can’t test this myself unfortunately. aaa feel free to let me know on discord if any problems arise!!

i managed to fix these, so they aren’t going to cause problems now, but my original drawings for mirabelle and siffrin in the final attack scene were a pain in the ass to fix. mirabelle’s sprite was slightly too talk to fit in frame and siffrin’s hat whacked bonnie in the face while i was editing everyone together. i’m only mentioning this because it took like an hour and a half to fix them and finish the scene.

all that aside, these were a fucking BLAST to work on. apparently this ended up taking 57 hours over exactly 10 days. which is a little worrying if you do the math on that but somehow i have not burnt myself out. i will be doing enemies at some point!!! but probably not for a little bit. i think my friends will actually kill me if i don’t take a break.

once again, happy birthday isat. you’ve ruined my life and i wouldn’t have it any other way (silly).

also, on an actual serious note, this little timeloop game has genuinely changed my life for the better? you guys are probably sick of hearing it at this point (or maybe not, i don’t talk about myself That Much. i hope), but i was practically a ghost for about 2 years before joining this fandom. it’s a little surreal to suddenly have friends (plural!!!) and people who Care about me, or even know i exist, honestly. it’s weird!! in a good way!!!

i don’t think i would’ve ever come back to social media if this community wasn’t so welcoming. i’ve met a lot of really great people through this game!!! so, uh, thank you isat, i guess. here’s to another year.

[luveline]

hihihihi! 💕 if you’re willing, can you write a little something with shy!r being the one to initiate the first kiss with hotch but her glasses get in the way? tytyty! 🙏🏼

—Hotch almost dies and you can’t take it anymore. He’s not expecting a kiss. fem, 1.7k

The thing is that you don’t mean to panic. Hotch is marching out of the building with handcuffs cut open on his wrists, Emily and Morgan just in front of him, and you’d been stuck out here with JJ because they never let you do the touch and go stuff. An UnSub held a shotgun to the back of Hotch’s head and you just had to watch. 

You hold yourself in place with all your strength as they come down the path of the house to the blockade of cars and emergency vehicles. “I’m fine,” he says, before any of you can ask him. “Not a scratch on me.” 

You can see the skin of his wrists has cut from tugging, so he’s lying, but that’s not surprising. You shift with your hands clenched together. He’s closer now, you could touch him, nearly speechless as he says, “Honestly, I’m surprised it happened to me, and not Reid.” 

Everyone else laughs. 

You can’t take it. He looks at you, and you, despite the last year of pushing down feelings of nervousness and affection, of pretending you don’t notice how his fingers feel when they brush the backs of your hands or the way his suit stretches across broad shoulders, despite practice, you can’t stay still any longer. 

You weave around JJ, past Spencer, in between Rossi and Hotch himself to press yourself to his chest. You hug him tightly, worried he might disappear if you don’t hold on. Safe, your brain says, even as your hands tremble. He’s safe. 

“I’m alright,” he says quietly, clasping your back carefully. The handcuff stuck to his wrists jabs through your vest. You can feel it on the bone. 

“I–” Your eyes are still open, too shocked to let them close. 

“I’m fine.” 

You take that for a polite ‘unhand me’ and step back. His hand lingers on your shoulder as though checking you for injury, like you’re the one who just had a gun to their head. “You’re sure you're okay?” you ask. 

“I’m not hurt.” 

You look pointedly at his wrists. 

“Mm,” he says, turning on the spot. “I suppose I am. But there’s nothing to worry about.” 

You’re egregiously worried regardless. In an attempt to keep from making the situation about you, you turn away from him and take a walk, pretending you need something from the car you came in. You open the passenger door, sweeping your hands across the leather seat for your phone, but you don’t want it, so you hold it in two hands and try to calm down. You’re shaking like crazy. He must have felt it when you hugged him. 

If you thought he cared enough about his life to prioritise it you might not have panicked as hard, but an advantage to being quiet is getting the opportunity to really listen to people. You don’t talk much, but Hotch does, he’s always telling someone what to do, or reassuring them, and he’s constantly on the phone trying to coordinate. You’ve heard his voice for hours on end. So when Rossi told him through the wire that they were gonna get him out of there, you heard the fake confidence in Hotch’s voice as he said, “I know.” 

He didn’t know. He was scared, so you were terrified. 

You check the time. It’s almost two in the morning but the cars give enough light to see inside the car. You trace the stitching on the seat, your eyes sore and blurry at once. Admitting defeat, you climb into the seat and dig around for your glasses. You’d thought you might need them —if Hotch was injured you’d need to go to the hospital and your contacts are dailies, so you knew you’d have to take them out. 

You pull the sun guard down and flip the cover on the mirror to take your contacts out, dropping them in the glasses case to throw away later. Your eyes sting. You rub them hard. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice says. 

Hotch is a blob. You slide your glasses open and up your nose, blinking as he comes back into definition. “Hotch.” They’ve cut his handcuffs off and wrapped light bandaging around his wrists. “Okay?” you ask. 

“Are you?” 

“I’m fine, sorry.” You clear your throat. “My eyes are tired, that’s all.” 

He stares at you for too long. Desperate to be out of his scrutiny, you get out of the car and shut the door. “Can we go home soon?” you ask. 

“I believe so.” 

“Oh,” you say, looking down at his hand, “good.” 

There’s another gap of silence, and then simultaneously:

“Are you–”

“Can I–”

Hotch smiles. “You first.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? That must’ve been so scary.”

Hotch gives his head a slow shake. “I’m fine. I was more scared at the time than I would’ve liked to admit to, but I’m okay now. I’ve felt worse.” 

“Really? Worse than that?” you ask, trying but failing to smile. Your wrist is too hot in your own hand. 

He seems to measure his response. “When you and JJ got stuck in the middle of New York a few months ago, when we couldn’t contact you, that was the most scared I’ve ever been on the job.” 

New York. He’d just separated from Haley, and everyone kept telling you how much chemistry he had with Kate, and you were already hopeless for him. It sucked. He almost died and you had to act like everything meant nothing to you, he was just your boss. 

But you’re friends now. Maybe you can be a little more honest. 

“I was scared too,” you say. You can’t help pouting. You must look like a petulant kid. “You wouldn’t believe it, Hotch, I watched you on the camera twenty different times. And now today, I had to see it again, I can’t keep watching this stuff happen to you.” 

“That’s the job.” 

“But why does it have to be you?” you ask.  

His eyes track over your entire face, his brow ever so slightly furrowed. “Because it does, and it always will,” he says, eyes softening, voice like silk. He’s talking to you like you’ve hung the moon even as he lays down an unfortunate truth. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I know exactly what it is that I’m doing. I don’t want you to worry about me.” 

“I can’t help it.” 

He smiles just a touch. “I know. I can’t help it either.” 

You look at him and you know he’s not gonna kiss you. He might want to —it’s insanity, it doesn’t feel real, he almost died tonight and you never would’ve known how this feels. 

You step into his chest. You’re frowning at him, the edge of tears without any of the heat. “I don’t know what I’d do if something really happened to you,” you confess. 

The scratch in your voice perturbs him. Careful, his hand comes to rest against the small of your back, drawing you in. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“Don’t be. Please. God knows I’d lose my mind if it had been you in there tonight.” 

He doesn’t move as you touch his cheek. Doesn’t step away as you steel your nerves. He must know what you’re about to do, but he doesn’t stop you. For a moment you can’t let yourself have it. But then he lets out a breath, and closes his eyes, and he angles his head down to meet you. You tip your head to the side and lean in. 

For a few seconds, your chest is uncomfortably hot, and you��re so scared he’s not gonna kiss you back and that you’re ruining everything you can’t think right. And Hotch —Hotch must know exactly how he likes to be kissed, and you’re probably not doing it right. But you’ve wanted it for long enough to try twice. You kiss him with lips parting, your hand unsteady on his cheek. 

He makes a sound at the back of his throat and curls you in. 

You’re hungry for it, there’s no other word —the second he responds you bear up. You kiss him hard enough to make your lips sting.

“Ah,” he says with a laugh, tilting his head to the side. “I think you blinded me.” 

“What?” 

“Your glasses, sweetheart. They’re at risk of giving me a concussion.” 

Sweetheart. You touch your glasses, remember the problem and touch his face, just under his eye. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He pushes them up against your forehead. “Okay?”

“I can’t see you.” 

“Well, I don’t think that’s a necessity unless you do,” he says. 

You’re not sure what he means until he’s brought his hands to your neck, holding you by either side. 

“It’s been a long time since someone surprised me,” he says softly. Before you can make sense of it, he’s leaning down to kiss you chastely. He’s much sweeter about it than you’d been and what an embarrassment that is, you’d thrown yourself at him and he’s kissing you like a prince. 

He kisses you. His thumb runs along your cheek. When he pulls away he smiles, settling your glasses tenderly back on the bridge of your nose. 

“I’m really alright,” he says. He’ll be lucky if you ever speak again. Knowing, he cups your face with his thumbs, his fingers slipped behind your neck. 

You duck your head. He takes it as a sign to hug you, ushering your face into his neck, your glasses smushed to your eyes. If he can feel the heat coming off of you, he’s kind enough not to mention it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he murmurs. 

“Do you think I can give you back?” you ask. 

You’re glad when he laughs, a surprised chuckle that vibrates from his chest to yours. “That’s harsh, agent.” 

You were obviously kidding, but the teasing has to stop. You won’t survive it. 

“Will you kiss me again?” you ask under your breath. 

He’s too busy doing as you’ve asked to tease you. You’re too busy being kissed to remember you were scared.

[classyrbf]

SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity

INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.

He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.

And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.

Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.

Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.

“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.

He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.

“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.

“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.

“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.

He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”

His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.

And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.

“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.

“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.

“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.

“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.

The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.

You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.

Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.

“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.

Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.

“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.

His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”

As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.

“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.

“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.

“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.

“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”

You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.

[le16erc]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 ✩ 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 <𝟑

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐡𝐡𝐡, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐠

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 ��𝐎𝐑 𝐔

• 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 <𝟑

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐜: 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝟐𝟏 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞/𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐳 .........................................................................................

getting served in the middle of an empty mclaren garage was something oscar couldn’t have imagined in his filthiest fantasies, or even comprehend as he watched it happen firsthand.

“fuckkkk, baby.” he groaned, pushing her head down further on his aching length. she’d been teasing him the entire afternoon, placing a lingering touch all to close to his waistband in front of an interviewer, or hiking her sundress up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her panties. he’d had enough at that point, grabbing her hand and leading her to the now empty and free-of-nosy-interviewers room. the sun was now lowering, casting golden beams into the open garage as the night reared its head towards vegas, promising the city those deep, dark hues adorned by planes and stars. the troublesome city always roared alive at this hour, the crowds of irresponsible youths and married men alike flocking to the sinful secret escapades lurking in clubs and alleyways.

“gonna win for me, osc? i wanna see you soaked in champagne.” she had smiled prettily, earlier embarrassing oscar in front of an interviewer. he’d clenched his fists and promised to himself that he’d fuck that little smirk off of her face soon enough.

“you wanna act like a filthy little slut, hmm? well, guess what, my love? you’re gonna get fucked like one.” he groaned, eyes trained on the way his entire dick disappeared between her lips. he wanted to caress her, applaud her for just how good she was being for him. but he knew better, and he could tell that his girl had been in a state to be absolutely destroyed for too long. after all, who was he to deny her the thing she so desperately sought after?

her muffled cries were lost against his cock, her watering lashes batting up at him for mercy. bucking into the warmth of her wet mouth thoughtlessly, he could feel himself hitting the back of her throat. oscar could swear that she was simply meant for him, sent from the divine above to satisfy his every desire for something to devote himself to entirely. being rough was one thing, but he was obsessed with slut-shaming the very girl he had corrupted himself.

no words were needed, the way she worked her tongue around him was more than enough. bobbing her head up and down, she raised her manicured hands to work whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. after allowing a whimper to spill from his lips at the feeling of her caressing the rest of him, oscar pulled her hair to observe her drooling mouth around him. he began smirking at the thought of what her parents would think. their only daughter, eagerly swallowing her boyfriend’s entire dick down her throat, in a garage open for anyone to see. surely, they’d disown her for the debauchery. his thoughts were rudely interrupted by her gags, her throat closing up around his cock and squeezing him like a vice. oh, he wouldn’t have any of this tonight. not after the hell of a day she’d given him with all the teasing and touching.

“fucking take it. god, you’re pathetic. can’t even take it all. if you’re gonna pull this shit, i swear to god i’ll walk out.” he spat, glaring down at his girl with hooded eyes. he’d trained her throat, he had been privileged enough to be her first and know that she could do better. it was an empty threat, either way. her mouth felt far too good for oscar to even consider pulling out right now. he continued rolling his hips to meet her throat, ruthlessly fucking her throat raw.

“your boyfriend’s a future world champion, baby. fucking suck like i am.” he grunted, forcing her head to go all the way to his base, where he sheathed himself deeper into the shelter of her mouth. the hungry hums from between her lips sent vibrations through his entire body, sending him into a deathly pleasant warmth. oscar slapped her cheek harshly, a groan leaving him as he felt his own thumb expertly pressing down on the bulge adorning her mouth. “gonna cum, baby. swallow it all for me.” he huffed, his mouth going slack as his eyebrows scrunched together. this was bliss for him, his eyes going blurry as he felt the warmth of his impending orgasm.

the cord finally snapped within the deepest depths of him, a thrilling rush pooling at his belly. oscar came with a loud groan, his most gutteral and vocal moment out of bed. pulling out of the sanctuary that was her mouth, he came all over her face. oscar watched as his cock leaked all over her lashes and cheeks, spilling his hot release on her made up face. the mascara running was his sign that he’d completely used her up, sparing no kindness to his beloved girlfriend. admittedly, this was the best possible pre-race gift she could have given him.

“aww, look at you, my girl. just soaked, aren’t you? well, that’s ok. that’ll make two of us soon enough.” he smiled down at her, watching his load drip from her cheeks down to her chest. at her innocent smile up at him, he realized that from then on, vegas was theirs. championship and all.

……………………………………………………………………………

i cannot just chill mark my words oscar is gonna be a wdc-

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

𝟿.𝟼𝙺 𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝

2.9K

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 1 | 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

⚠️ spoilers in the warnings ⚠️

swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral, violence, threats, blackmail, fighting, blood, gore, mentions of sextortion, Rafe sneaks into the reader's room, panty stealing, panty sniffing, takes pictures of the reader's private images, cum tasting, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, twist dark reader, mutual obsession, rough oral, gagging, kissing, reader doesn't ask rafe if he wants to go further than oral but he does and she starts anyway, messy sex, squirting, praise, drinking, smoking, mentions of drug use

𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓪 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓶𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮

Rafe’s POV:

I step out onto the porch, goosebumps flaring across my skin, but I’m still white-hot with adrenaline from the fight. I feel the warm ooze roll down my chin, catching the blood on my palm fast before it drips onto my shirt. I look down at my wrist. 2 a.m… My heart falls as I see my knuckles bloodied and bruised, but I can’t feel it; it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. I do that shit again for her in a heartbeat. I take a deep breath, rubbing my hand on my jeans as my thoughts return to her.

My gaze sweeps over the yard, girl after girl, but not mine. I look toward the sorority, watching a pair of sisters walk inside for the night. Maybe someone in there knows where she is.

I move down the stairs fast, walking toward the sorority that I had tried to slip into during the car wash to no avail. I keep my head low, focusing on the task at hand. Anticipation bubbles in my chest as the world lightens around me. The sorority’s fully lit now in the dim night. I’ve been here more times than I can count. But this time is different. I feel alive.

My pulse spikes as I see Cassie walk inside, too. I nod, trying to think of a plan to get in. Walking into the sorority without a sister would look weird as fuck. It would raise all the red flags. I fall back, watching her pass through the door and climb up the grand staircase before the door fans shut.

I take advantage of the moment, quickly trotting up the steps, yanking the door open before it can shut all the way, my eyes darting around the entryway before turning down the hall. I move deeper and deeper into the sorority, disappearing into her space. Looking down the hallway, I see the door – her door– just barely cracked open. I feel my stomach twist in excitement as I grow closer to her. Shutting my eyes, I breathe deeply, taking in her muted scent. It’s still so new to me, but I feel like it’s been long ingrained in my mind.

I glance through the crack in the door. Empty… My fingers curl around the cool metal handle, and for a moment, I hesitate. But I can’t wait. The faint smell of her perfume grows as I push open the door. I move cautiously through the space, taking little mental pictures of everything I see.

The personal touches—photos that weren’t on her Instagram, her favorite books stacked on her desk, a fuzzy blanket strewn on her bed. It feels so intimate… and it is.

Her dresser. The top drawer… Start there, I tell myself, work down. I know what I want. I pull it open, hitting the jackpot – delicate lace, silk, and cozy cotton panties – all of which have graced her perfect body. I snag a pair of black lace panties, stuffing them in the back pocket of my jeans. Don’t get greedy, Rafe.

I look to the side of the dresser, suddenly seeing her hamper, making my heart skip a beat. A slow grin breaches my face. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better.

I lift the lid, pulling back a sweatshirt, spotting pink mesh. Picking them out, I study them, trying to find traces of her. My eyes roll back as I see just that. I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, thinking about how I’ll ruin these later. One hand thumbing through her pictures, the other stroking my dick. I lift the material to my nose, eyes shut, drawing a deep breath, snorting my girl like a line.

My eyes flutter open, head dizzy, eyes landing on her perfectly made bed. My rough fingers run along the comforter, studying where she sleeps, picturing her hair fanned out on the pillow and her glossy lips formed in the perfect sleepy pout. My eyes fall to her nightstand. I grin to myself. If it was anything like mine, I was in for a treat.

I wrap my fingers around the handle, my hand shaking with adrenaline as I open the small drawer. My eyes dart around the contents. Nothin’ crazy, just a few magazines. Lip gloss. I pick it out of the drawer, adding it to my itinerary for the night. M’gonna cum in this shit… Sneak it back in here, watch her walk into class with that glossy smile, just knowing she’s laced with me. I pull the magazines aside, my heart clanging in my ears as I see three nude Polaroids and a pink rabbit vibrator.

I bury my head in my hands, unable to cope with the sight before me. I quickly fight my phone out of my pocket, snapping a few pictures of the snapshots before taking her toy in my fist. I turn it, watching the sparkles glint in the light. Laying my tongue flat, I glide it nice and slow, not once but twice, my aching cock pressing against my zipper, twitching with each flick on my tongue, just trying to catch a hint of her taste.

I hear the sound of her angelic voice floating towards the door. Holy shit… I stuff everything back in the dresser hastily. My stomach twists in tight knots at the thought of her walking in seeing me in her room uninvited.

Billy’s right. She doesn’t know me. Not well, anyway. Not well enough to be in her room waiting. I look toward the window for my escape, but there’s not enough time. Her footsteps grow closer with each passing moment. I quickly step towards her closet, looking back at the window one last time, trying to weigh my options. It’s cracked… Of course, it is. I could still make it. Yet, there’s this undeniable urge to stay… I internally battle myself for a moment longer. Fuck it. I slip into the closet, pulling the door shut, pinching my eyes closed with it.

Every second feels like an eternity. I curse myself, thinking back to my earlier moments of panic. No way I put everything back where she left it… I surely slipped up. What if she feels something’s off, notices that faint change in the air, and finds me in her closet? What the fuck am I doing?

I watch her shadow shift under the closet door. Changing direction slightly, I peer out, careful not to rustle any hangers and give myself away, but I can’t help myself. Not when it comes to her. The temptation to watch her is damn near impossible. I’ve lost myself completely. Right when I’m about to fall out of sight, I hear her zipper pull. My mind screams for my body to look away, but my eyes disobey, wanting to see her bare. I watch her dress pool around her feet. My breath hitches in my throat from the sight in front of me. Lingerie… That was meant to be seen by someone. That photo of her at the car wash…No question this show was meant for him and not me.

Her hands lift to her chest, back still turned to me. She pops open the eyelets of her corset one by one. Teasing me unknowingly, the universe punishing me for being here, hiding away in the shadows like a freak. She pulls the delicate material off her body, tossing it in the hamper I had opened moments before… The stolen items feel like a weight in my pocket. I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t notice they’re gone. She doesn’t. She closes it before snagging an oversized t-shirt from a drawer. My eyes fall down her perfect body, her curves, the silhouette of my girl, sheer perfection—made for me and me alone.

She walks toward the bed, pulling back the covers before crawling inside. The soft glow of her TV illuminates her face, casting the most beautiful shadows across her perfect features. Her eyes look heavy, just minutes away from shutting for the night. I can’t help but worry about her. Why is she so tired? Why is she stayin’ up still? She needs to sleep. I know it’s not smart to stay, fuck, it wasn’t sane to do this shit in the first place, but I’m not ready to leave.

My breath catches itself in my chest as she smiles down at her phone, beautiful and genuine, making my racing heart skip a beat. What are you smiling at, pretty girl? She giggles quietly—soft and angelic. She mumbles something to herself I can’t quite catch. I move closer to the slight space between the door, turning my ear to hear anything. “… so cute,” she coos. My heart swells in my chest, and I imagine her saying that to me. God, I need her so fucking bad. She just met me… No way she was thinkin’ about me. Maybe Billy… Anyone but him.

“…Rafe Cameron,” she flirts, almost like she’s speaking directly to me as she stares at something on her phone.

I fight with the urge to grab the door and step out. I’ve got no self-control and so much to lose. I stand frozen in the closet, my fingers sliding along the door, getting closer and closer to the edge. I pull my hand back at the last possible moment, settling on watching her fall asleep instead.

“You can come out now,” her voice cuts through the quiet, all the blood pumping in my head draining in a moment.

I'm hearin’ shit. I gotta be. I peer out, met with a set of gorgeous, curious eyes. Was she amused? Angry? She doesn’t look scared… The world stopped moving. Or maybe it was just my heart that stopped.

”Rafe,” she says my name, tugging at my heartstrings. I stand there in disbelief, mind racing, body pulling in all directions, wanting to fall back into the place where I felt in control.

I push open the door, breathing shakily, rustling the hangers I’d tried to silence before. My body feels heavy and awkward. I draw a deep breath, trying to think of how to explain myself, but nothing comes out. Everything is overwhelming– my emotions, her gaze, the moment.

“You’ve been following me,” her voice floats out. This should fucking terrify her, but it doesn’t. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to stay present, but my mind reels. “I saw you at the car wash, Rafe. Watched you on the sorority Ring camera trying to sneak in while I was out.” She giggles. “That was cute, by the way,” she teases. My cheeks flush with embarrassment. Just how much had she seen?

“You were looking for me all night, Rafe. It would have been so much easier to find me if you would have just asked for my number,” she sighs. I swallow hard, clearing the lump in my throat as I try to gain my composure and say anything. “I watched you fight Billy for me at the party earlier. All for me..” She gives me a flirty smile, not at all horrified about the beating or the blood, more focused on the sentiment behind it. I wanted to deny it all but at the same time…I don’t. Does she like it?

“I’ve seen everything…” Her head tilts slightly, eyes staring straight into my soul. “You act like you own me, Rafe.” Those words leaving her lips hit me like a blow to the chest. “I think we’re kinda similar, you and I…”

I pinch my eyebrows in confusion, thinking back to her texts with Billy. “What about Billy?” I croak out dumbly, making her laugh warmly.

“He was just a part of the plan,” she smiles. “Someone who would wrong you; someone that would test you. Someone disloyal who wouldn’t stop unless you made him. And, he didn’t stop, did he?”

“He didn’t,” I mumble drunkenly, hearing her words echoing in my ears. She planned all this, using my emotions and obsession to draw me in.

She shrugs. “Loyalty is hard to find.”

Billy was just a pawn to get to me? She wanted to be seen by me tonight just as badly as I wanted to be seen by her, and she’s wanted it for a while.

“I’m loyal.” I nod desperately. “I’ll do anything for you,” my voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “I’ll worship you… That’s what you want, yeah?” I crawl on the foot of her bed, moving closer and closer as she lures me with her stare. I tilt in close, holding my breath, lips hovering mere inches from her. The air between us is charged. My heart is pounding so loudly that I’m sure she can hear it.

Her hands come up to cup my bruised cheeks, grounding me; drawing me in even deeper.

"I'm gonna take care of you, Rafe," she whispers, her voice syrupy sweet. "I've been watching you for weeks. I know everything you need– everything you want."

My body trembles, unable to cope with the emotions, shattering them all when my lips crash into hers. The kiss is deep and longing, fierce and possessive, almost animalistic, as I pull her as close as possible. “M’Yours,” I mumble between kisses, needing her to hear it. I feel her smile against my lips before she pulls back enough to let me see her eyes. Her addictive stare’s beautiful, laced with something dark and dangerous.

“I’m yours,” she smiles. Before I can respond, she reaches down to the hem of her t-shirt and pulls it off her body. My eyes widened, and my hands draw to her flesh like magnets. “I’m so wet, Rafe,” she whispers like she’s telling me a secret.

“Are you gonna let me taste you, princess?”

Her hands brush through my hair, her brow cocking teasingly. “Didn’t you already?” My stomach flutters at her words, realizing that when she said ‘she saw everything,’ she meant it.

“I want more,” I respond hungrily. I push her back into the pillows—tearing my shirt off my shoulders. Her breathing hitches, lip caught between her bottom teeth as her eyes fall down my body, working me out of my belt. The sparkle in her eyes lets me know this isn’t a want but a need.

I pull myself out of my jeans, tossing them to the side, before moving away from her soft lips, settling between her plush thighs. I kiss along her silky skin, breathing in the scent of her, bathing in it, peeling off her panties before pressing her thighs wide to get some more.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby,” I eye the mess between her legs, licking my lips hungrily. Her fingers drift into my fringe, twisting in my strands, using her hold to draw me closer. I swipe my finger up her slit making her moan, her hips lifting when I pull away, gliding her essence along my tongue.

“Please,” she whimpers. Her lips push in a pout, falling into a soft ‘o’ as my rough fingers spiral on her throbbing clit. She throws her head back into her pillow, hair fanning out just like I imagined it, even more perfect than I could’ve dreamed.

I slip a finger inside, then two, then three. Saving the best for last as my lips press against her pearl, sucking down, making her cry out in pleasure. “Fuck, daddy.” The name throws me over the edge; I start rutting and grinding into the mattress, matching my thrust, my pleasure building with hers.

“Cum for me, pretty. Let me have it,” I mumble against her cunt, watching goosebumps spread across her thighs at the heat of my words.

My body trembles as she grabs fistfuls of sheets, chanting my name like a prayer, and she cums long and hard with me. I feel my sticky load coat my boxers, the wet material clinging to my throbbing dick. I bury myself in her pussy, drowning in her arousal, huffing in her scent just like I was before, suckling and coating my tongue with her release.

Her hands reach down, pulling at my hair just like she was before, too breathless to plead for my lips. She licks her slick off my chin before plunging her tongue in my mouth, rolling effortlessly with mine, my mind-hazy, pussy-drunk off her taste.

“You came, didn’t you?” She whispers against my lips. Her vulgar words coming out angelic. She reaches her hand between us, cupping my cock, answering her own question as my warm cum transfers to her palm through the cotton. She lifts her hand, running it along her tongue with a smile.

“How did you know?”

”I’ve watched you do that a few times, baby.” She grabs my shoulders, coaching me to my back before she straddles my lap. She grinds her drenched cunt against my boxers, making me groan from the overstimulation, but she’s just trying to work her climax into mine.

She crawls off, slotting herself between my thighs, sucking my spent through the tight material. Every muscle in my body clenches tight. She strokes me over my boxers, rubbing her pretty lips all over me. I pinch the elastic band at my hips impatiently, needing her lips around my dick more than I’ve needed anything else.

She watches hungrily as my hard cock springs out, slapping against my body. Her slight fingers wrap around my dick, making my toes curl. She throats my cock again and again, moaning around my thick length, gagging like a goddamn porn star. My personal porn star. “Co’mere,” I mutter, right on the edge of cumming again, and before I can even ask if she wants to fuck she’s sliding down my dick, nails digging into my chest. She lets out a little gasp as my thumb presses against her clit, rubbing messy circles on top.

“Holy shit-”

“So fucking good,” I finish her sentence, which gets caught up in a moan as she throws her head back. Y/n bounces on my cock, chasing her climax; her perfect ass clapping against my skin as her pussy swallows me up again and again. I reach out, gripping her hips, lifting her slightly to fuck up into her, heels digging into her soft mattress as leverage. “Just like that, Rafe,” she cries.

“Yeah? You like that shit?” I pant. “Flood my cock, baby. Make a fuckin’ mess. C’mon.” And just like a good girl, she does. Gushing around my dick, wetting my thighs and the blanket below, making me cum right behind her, spill into her guts, my girl milking every last drop. She collapses on my chest, lips pushing against mine. Her taste and mind swirl together as our tongues intertwine.

KNOCK.

Both of our heads snap to the window, catching the faintest tap from outside, too caught in the moment to even shut the blinds in the first place. I pull her close, wrapping my big body around her, shielding her from the gaze from the other side of the glass. Billy—beaten and bloody. Almost unrecognizable from our fight. He looks back at the two of us, crushed and broken.

I glance back up at my girl, a smile painted across her kiss-bitten lips, twisted and mocking like this was the final piece of her puzzle that she just set in place. She grabs the blanket off the bed, wrapping it around her bare figure before stepping onto the hardwood floor. She leans down, kissing my lips, lingering for a moment before kissing me again.

I watch her carefully as she steps toward the window, eyes locked on Billy's. She lifts her delicate hand, waving at him sweetly—down-right condescending. The movement is casual, unbothered, and full of unspoken dominance over both him and me. She raises her hand, pushing the blinds shut before turning toward me, sending chills down my spine.

Fuck…

This is love.

tags (tag list is on my pinned post. If your name is crossed out your tag isn't working💕) @loserboysandlithium @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @xoxohoneymoongirl

[tetragonia]

Let It Roll

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

JJ Maybank would give anything, but he won't give up on you. He'd say anything, but not good bye.

warning: uh, angst? they're fighting.

note: I took the title and the summary from Train's song, Let It Roll and Words. would be nice if you take a listen!

words: 1.5k

It had started weeks ago, small things piling up like the sand that collects on a boat until it makes everything feel heavier. JJ had been distant, disappearing without a word and dodging questions when he came back. You’d catch him staring off into the distance, his jaw set, shoulders tense, but whenever you’d ask what was going on, he’d just brush it off with a laugh or say something evasive.

At first, you tried to be understanding. JJ wasn’t the kind of person to open up easily, and you knew he had a lot on his shoulders—too much, really, for someone so young. But as days passed and he kept pulling further away, the frustration grew.

You’d text him, and hours would pass before he’d reply with something vague. You’d make plans, and he’d show up late or sometimes not at all, leaving you with the sense that he was slipping through your fingers, like sand you couldn’t hold onto.

Tonight was supposed to be different. He’d promised to meet you by the docks after sundown, a plan he’d made himself. You were excited, even hopeful, thinking this would be the night he’d finally open up about whatever was weighing on him. But as the sun sank and the stars filled the sky, there was still no sign of JJ. An hour passed, and then another, until you were left alone, hurt gnawing at you as the breeze grew cold.

When he finally showed up, his face flushed and eyes stormy, he mumbled an apology. It was the same routine—vague promises that didn’t really ease the sting of waiting alone. You’d reached your limit, and suddenly, everything you’d been holding back came spilling out.

“You’re here now, but for how long, JJ?” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “I’ve been waiting for you to let me in, to talk to me instead of shutting me out, but you keep disappearing. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“You’re always doing this, JJ,” you continued, your voice wavering as you tried to keep steady. “Pushing everyone away, saying it’s no big deal, that nothing gets to you—but it does. And I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you pull further and further away?”

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly taken aback. “Look, I’m doing my best here, okay? It’s not like you understand this life, this… mess.”

“Then make me understand,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s going on. I want to help you, but I can’t if you keep pushing me away.”

He looked at you, his jaw clenched tight, and shook his head.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice rough. “You don’t get it. I’m not good at this—at… needing someone. I don’t know how to just talk it out, alright?”

You took a shaky breath, fighting the ache that had settled in your chest. “I don’t need you to be perfect, JJ. I just need you to be here. With me.”

He looked down, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of everything was pressing down on him all at once. For a moment, he didn’t respond, and the silence between you grew heavy, filled with every unspoken word and missed moment.

"No, I... I can sort this alone."

"There you go again!" you were frustated.

He looked at you, his blue eyes clouded, jaw clenched. “I’m trying, alright? I don’t know how to—how to do this stuff like you do. You know me. I mess up, I get it. But you act like I’m not here, like you’re waiting for me to say it’s over so you don’t have to.”

The accusation stung, but maybe it was true. Maybe you had been waiting for him to let you go.

“I don’t know how to keep this going if it’s always going to feel like this, JJ. I don’t know if you even want me here. I can’t be the only one fighting for this.”

“I don’t want you to fight for it alone!” his voice broke as he took a step forward. “You think I don’t want you here? That I don’t think about you every second of every day? I’d give anything to fix this—anything, alright? Just not… just not this.”

“Not what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not goodbye,” he said, his voice softer now, but his tone stubborn, like he was digging his heels into the ground and refusing to budge. “I can’t say it. I won’t.”

Your heart felt like it was being pulled in two directions. You wanted to let go of the anger, but you couldn’t ignore the hurt.

“JJ, sometimes it’s not enough just to want something. We need… more. I need you to talk to me, to tell me what’s going on inside instead of just running off when things get hard.”

“I don’t run,” he shot back, his gaze steady and filled with something fierce. “I stay because of you. Because I don’t want to let you go. I know I’m not great at the talking part, but I’m here, aren’t I? I’m trying to tell you that I’m not giving up, even if you think I should.”

Your eyes stung, and you blinked back tears, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. You wanted so badly to believe him, to trust that he wouldn’t push you away again, but it was hard. You’d been here before—on the edge of leaving, only to be pulled back in by the sheer force of your feelings for him.

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“I’ll say anything you need me to say, do whatever it takes to make this right,” he murmured, his voice softer now, pleading. “But I won’t say goodbye. Not to you.”

There was a desperation in his words, a crack in the armor he always wore. JJ was staring at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to the ground, his face tense and unguarded. It was rare for him to let you see him like this—raw, unfiltered, his defenses dropped.

Slowly, you reached out, your hand finding his, your fingers intertwining with his as you tried to breathe through the ache in your chest. You didn’t have the strength to walk away from him, not when he was looking at you with that fierce determination, like he’d rather burn than let you slip away.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, either,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, the silence wrapped around you both. He brought your hand to his chest, letting you feel the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingers.

“Then don’t,” he said softly. “We can figure this out, I promise. I just… I need you to believe in me. In us.”

The air was heavy, filled with unspoken promises, but as you looked at him, really looked at him, you could see it: the way his gaze softened, the way he was holding on to you like you were his lifeline.

Slowly, you nodded, squeezing his hand. You didn’t have the answers, and maybe neither did he. But for now, you were both here, grounded by the weight of everything you’d fought through to get to this moment. And it was enough.

As you stood there together, the tension between you faded into something warmer, something hopeful. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but you knew he was right — you weren’t ready to say goodbye, either. Not tonight. Not yet.

[anundyingfidelity]

CLAWS & SHIELD — Wolverine, Soldier Boy

Summary: Logan, Ben, and you sharing a motel room. That's it, that's the fic.

Pairing: Logan x fem reader x Ben.

Warnings: pwp smut, threesome, unprotected everything, oral (male receiving), hair pulling, cum play, cream pie, facial, mentions of marking, dirty talking, pet names, sub!reader, female pronouns.

Notes: I know no one asked but here you have because I can't stop thinking about them sharing like the good assholes they are. Soldier Boy and Wolverine are their own warnings in general so😫

GEN MASTERLIST!

“I- I’ve never done this before,” you gasp, hands and knees on the ground as Soldier Boy sits at the edge of the mattress with your head between his thighs. The tip of his cock is red and he’s aching to be sucked, and you want to. Fuck, how much you want to, but you feel kinda anxious as the mutant pulls your hips towards his own.

His cock is also hard, veiny and throbbing already to feel your walls wrap around him. You whine when he teases your entrance with his dick, covering himself with your slick and you moan. Logan takes a messy grip of your hair and rubs his cock once, twice, before his tip buries inside your needy cunt.

“Oh, but how you’re enjoying it,” Logan remarks with a dark chuckle, followed by the supe, who wipes your mouth with his thumb.

And you suck on his digit, swollen lips wrapped around him as if your life depends on it.

“Dirty little slut, can’t wait to be filled up, can you?” Soldier Boy teases as Logan pounds mercilessly into your aching pussy. You whine at the feel of the mutant gripping on your hips now, sure it’d leave more marks into your skin by tomorrow.

Your knees already hurt, your palms are bruising on the carpet of the dirty motel room. It was true, you never had been in this situation before. But being shared by these two piles of muscles and strength, manhandling you around and ordering you to take what they could give to you was more than you ever dreamt of.

Soldier Boy pulls his thumb away from your mouth, and takes your jaw with his fingers.

“Open,” he orders and you obey, sticking your tongue out, fucked out already as Logan continues his rut from behind you.

He spits on your mouth and you flinch a little, but he doesn’t hold back, instead guides his cock between your lips and you happily take him, humming and gagging at how far he had reached inside in just a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” Soldier Boy moans, watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

“She’s fucking close,” Logan warns, the rhythm of his thrusts increasing by the moment, and he grabs your ass cheeks, spreading them to see right in the spot where you two connect as he keeps fucking you to bliss. He hisses at the view of his cock sliding out, covered in the wetness of your abused cunt. “God, that’s a perfect pussy right there, look at you…”

Logan hits your sweet spot and you moan and cry around Ben’s cock, the soldier never giving you the easy time. He fucks your throat hard, as if he was on a competition with the other man fucking your cunt right now, and you do your best to suck on his cock, tongue tracing his veins and your throat creating a wet cave for him to use.

With a hand, Soldier Boy grabs onto your hair and guides your pace to a more brutal one, feeling himself close.

“Keep sucking me off, sweetcheeks,” he groans, thrusting up his hips until your nose meets his pelvis.

You blurt incoherences, pussy clenching around Logan’s cock, and god, does it feel so damn good to you, being filled by both men at the same time, used for their pleasure and however they want… If this was heaven you wouldn’t want to leave the room ever.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Soldier Boy grunts and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He is jerking himself and holding your pretty, fucked out face with the other hand.

“Open for me, yeah, that’s it,” he praises and he finally cums, white ropes painting your cheeks as you hold your tongue out, his hot cum all over your nose, lips and cheeks.

“Keep her there, I’m gonna fill her up real good,” Logan darkly whispers and is no longer for him to get there, when he empties inside your needy cunt balls deep with a beautiful moan of his. Though, he already has come, the stamina and strength is enough to keep fucking his seed into you and a chain of moans and pleas leave your lips and sore throat.

“Fuck, yes! Right there, that’s the spot, please keep fucking me-”

His orgasm triggers your own climax and you finally come, crying so loud and milking his cock as he thrusts to meet your hips.

Soldier Boy wipes the cum off your face before offering his fingers coated and forcing them into your mouth. You lick them obediently, longing eyes on him.

“Fuck, best pussy I ever had,” Logan praises and he finally stops, lazy and sloppy hips against your ass.

“And wait when you have her ass,” Soldier Boy smirks, you moan unwittingly at the thought. “Hole is even better.”

Logan groans and he feels himself getting hard again, pulling out of your cunt, seed leaking out and rolling down your thighs. He plays with your sensitive folds and clit with calloused fingers.

“Yeah, well, I’m ready for round two,” Logan says, leaning towards you, his strong chest pressing against your back. “Bub here as well. But are you ready, baby?” he whispers over your ear.

You shiver at the thought, and you know they know you want it bad. It’s become a need at this point. Their high senses tells you they fucking know, and they enjoy having this control over you.

“Whatever you want,” you respond, holding the soldier’s lustful stare as you try to catch your breath.

Soldier Boy smirks and Logan chuckles on your back. He roams his hand over your breasts, kissing your shoulder, his beard leaving a sweet burn on you. Their dicks are already hard, and oh, you know you’re so fucked in the best way you could dream of.

[bella-goths-wife]

Kiss the barrel of my gun softly: chapter four

Chapter warnings: angst, arguments, sexual tension, stalker vibes, crying, smoking, mentions of brothel, mean Sevika, jealousy, ooc Sevika

“We need to talk” Sevika spits out as she approaches your desk, her eyes landing on the muscular redhead by your side and glaring harshly “alone”

“The Madame doesn’t hold meetings with Silco workers” Ginger states firmly at the side of you before moving slightly in front of you, facing Sevika directly “especially not his second in command, especially not you”

Sevika eyes the woman as she approaches with deadly intent. The woman was in her late thirties, just like Sevika. Sevika couldn't help but compare them both in her mind. While the redhead had many muscles, Sevika had more. While the redhead was quite tall, Sevika was taller. She couldn’t help but to internally gloat at these observations.

That smug attitude quickly disappeared however, when you rose from your seat behind your desk and placed a hand on Ginger's arm, trying to hold her back from attacking. Ugly jealousy rears its head and replaces the victory she had temporarily felt, seeing you be so close with someone else was not something that Sevika assumed she’d enjoy seeing but she didn't expect the very sight of it to make her skin crawl and her teeth clench.

“Well your Madame needs to make an exception unless she wants me to bring more men down and have a much less polite route taken” Sevika growls out with a pointed look towards you 

“It's fine Ginger” you say calmly as she turns to face you with a disapproving expression that you met with a reassuring one “I’ll be fine”

Ginger lets out a sigh before giving the hand on her arm a reassuring squeeze and making her way out the office, making sure to bump her shoulder against Sevika harshly for good measure.

“I’ll wait outside” Ginger states as she exits “Shout if you need me, Madame”

With that Ginger left and closed the door behind her, Sevika turns to look at you with a mocking sneer

“You sure have a type” She spits out, referencing the similar ages, builds and attitudes that she and Ginger shared.

“What do you want, Sevika?” you ask sharply, not rising to her petty comments.

Sevika calms her jealousy with a sigh, reminding herself why she was here. She was here for business, not to ignite old feelings.

“You need to stop this challenging Silco bullshit” she says seriously with an almost pleading expression “He knows you're disrespecting his authority”

“Glad to know my intentions are clear enough for him” you mumble out with a scoff, standing back behind your desk with an uninterested expression.

“Your gonna get yourself killed” she spits out with a frustrated expression, practically glaring holes into the side of your skull “you need to knock it off”

“Silco can’t just kill me” you say with a roll of your eyes “The rest of the Chembarons rely on this brothel too much, and I don’t have a successor to replace me after death yet”

“Your underestimating him” Sevika points out with an annoyed scoff “I can’t keep protecting you from him when you keep pulling shit like this”

“Then don’t protect me” you sneer out as you walk closer “i never asked you to, never wanted you to”

“Well if i didn't you’d be dead by now” Sevika speaks with a raised voice before calming herself with a sigh “look, your young so you won’t-”

“Don’t patronise me” you spit out with a firm tone, she knew your age was a big insecurity for you when the two of you were dating, with you being in your early twenties and her being late thirties, you always thought that deep down she wanted to be with someone her own age instead.

“Pretty hard not to when you're acting like a spoiled child” Sevika yells out as she steps closer so that she’s towering over you.

“I was old enough to fuck” you point out with a yell “so i’m old enough for you to treat me seriously”

“Keep your voice down” She splits out as her hand covers your mouth and head shoots round to look at the closed door that Ginger would presumably be stood behind “do you want the whole building to know”

“Oh, of course not” you say sarcastically as you pull her hand away from your mouth, Sevika instinctively resting it on your cheek instead “Can’t have your precious Silco finding out what he already knows”

Sevika is about to respond when she notices the position the two of you were in with her hand resting on your cheek and her body towering over yours, looking intensely into each other's eyes. She feels the fight leaving your bodies as she lets out a sigh and her gaze softens. She rests her forehead against yours gently and you close your eyes instinctively, melting into her touch and her affection.

“Silco is more dangerous than you understand” Sevika warns with a soft tone “I don’t want you to end up like Madame Emera-”

“Don’t!” you yell out of anger as your eyes snap open and you rip yourself from her hold “Don’t you dare say her name! You have no right to say her name!”

Sevika is stunned for a second as you rip yourself away from her and you face your desk, forcing her to face your back. She lets out a sigh as she collects her thoughts, knowing she’d lost any chance at attempting to reason with you now.

Tough love it is then.

“We’ll be making sure the rest of the Chembarons cut their ties with you until you accept a meeting with Silco to discuss how business will be going down in the future, meaning you will be loosing all profits from each of them” Sevika attempts to keep her tone firm, but it still comes out quietly 

Sevika can see your shoulders shaking and can hear your soft crying, she can feel her heart cracking slowly at the sounds.

“It’s better than the alternative” She says softly, wanting desperately to justify her actions 

“Get out” you command with an exhausted, broken voice as you lean over your desk with your back to her.

She can see the tear drops landing on the desk beneath you, having to stop her hand as it instinctively reaches out to comfort you. Instead she lowers her hand and clenches her fist before she makes her way out the office, leaving you to cry alone.

You had that look on your face, the look of pure hurt and disappointment. She could never handle seeing you with that expression, even the first time she saw it broke something inside her.

———————————past——————————

Sevika roams the dark streets of the undercity with a murderous gaze and a confused head. All she could think about was you, you and your charming little smile, lustrous body and witty little attitude. Her thoughts constantly replayed the moment your lips had met and sealed her fate.

She wasn't used to this, the warm and fuzzy feelings exploding in her chest at the mere thought of you. She was used to screwing whores in brothels or one night stands that she’d fuck in an alleyway and consequentally pretend not to know. 

You're changing her, making her softer and weaker and it's terrifying for her. She’s seeing you in her dreams, smelling your scent wherever she goes, feeling the pressure of your lips against hers whenever she hears anything to do with the gemstone brothel despite not having to go there for weeks, god even now she thinks she hears your voice as she wanders down the desolate alleyways of the undercity.

Wait a second, she actually is hearing your voice….

She follows the sound of your muffled speech and laughter like an obedient dog until she catches sight of you. You're using the back entrance of a popular mechanical shop that leads to the alleyways, laughing and smiling at one of the staff members who blushes and looks away.

Sevika feels a spark of jealousy in her chest as she watches you laugh and smile at the clearly infatuated man until you eventually wave him off and he wanders back into his shop. She then watches you walk further down and follows you the entire time, staying hidden in the shadows.

You eventually stop in a more secluded area, reaching inside your purse and pulling out a pack of cigarettes before placing one between your painted lips. She watches you scramble through your purse looking for a lighter.

“You're out late” you're surprised to hear her voice so suddenly, even more surprised when you feel heat near your face and you look down to see her lighter.

You look up at her for a few moments with wide eyes before leaning in and cupping the flame to light your cigarette, leaning back on the wall behind you to talk to her.

“Had to talk to Tony” you say calmly before blowing the cigarette smoke playfully in her face.

Sevika only responds with a grunt as she leans her shoulder on the wall next to you, leaning down slightly so you don’t have to crane your neck back fully. You bring your hand up close to her face with the cigarette between your two fingers as an offering, she takes your offer and takes a drag from your cigarette even though it's not her usual brand and to her tastes like dogshit, but it has your lipstick on the end to ease the taste.

“Why would you need to talk to Tony?” Sevika asks sceptically as she blows the smoke in your face and makes you giggle, eyeing you almost as if she was inspecting you to see if you had any secret mechanical parts hidden under your clothes.

“One of the girls at work has a really old prosthetic leg and it's been acting up for a while now and making it painful for her to walk” you answer calmly as you smoke “trying to talk to Tony about getting a replacement”

“Your getting her with a prosthetic from Tony” Sevika repeats, slightly surprised “those aren't exactly cheap” 

“It's hard enough living down here missing a limb, she doesn’t need to be in pain as well” you say carelessly with a shrug “I don’t mind helping with the cost if it makes her life a little easier”

You look down at her and your eyes land on the sight of her mechanical arm, you look away with a guilty expression as you realise how careless your words were before muttering a small ‘sorry’

“It's fine sweetheart” Sevika reassures calmly, not looking offended at your mistake one bit “I’ve had it a long time now, I’ve learned to live with it by now”

There's a moment of silence between the two of you before Sevika takes another drag of your cigarette and blows the smoke in your face once again, easing the tension as you let out a small chuckle at her reassuring action.

“Does it hurt?” you ask quietly as you look up at her

“Sometimes” she answers honestly with a shrug “more uncomfortable than anything”

You nod as you look at her slightly guarded expression before standing straight and interlocking your finger with her sharp, claw-like mechanical one, encouraging her to walk with you. She softens slightly at the gesture and walks with you, locking her pinky with yours.

You both stay quiet for a few moments, enjoying the gentle affection as you walk through the desolate alleyways where you wouldn’t run the risk of getting caught.

“Why are you out here anyway?” you ask curiously, ending the peaceful silence 

“Patrolling for a bit before i head to the last drop” she lies, not intending on telling you the real reason was because she’d not stopped thinking of you since the moment you’d kissed and that a part of her had hoped that on the walk to calm down she’d miraculously run into you, which she did.

“Business?” you assume as you look up at her and she simply nods, doubling down on her lie

“Why are you alone out here anyways?” she asks through a grunt “aren’t you worried about all the assholes who roam about here at night?”

“Worried about me?” you ask with a slight chuckle and a raised brow

“Would you be surprised to know I am?” Sevika asks back as she looks away with a slightly bashful face

“Considering we barely know each other” you point out “a little, yes”

Sevika rolls her eyes as she stops walking and uses your interlocked pinkies to pull you back and practically manhandles you against the wall before caging you in with her arms as she’d done so many times and leans down, you let her do all of this with a goofy looking little grin.

“You really have no self preservation skills, do you?” She asks with a scoff, her guard going up again because of your words.

“I didn’t mean it in a nasty way” you reassure her gently which causes her to look taken aback for a moment before she softens again slightly

“Still” she says stoically “your a fool”

“Good to know” you chuckle out

There's another moment of silence as Sevika rolls her eyes and scoffs with a smile as she leans down, your hand lands on her cheek to prevent her lips coming closer to yours.

“Thought I'd told you to stop trying to pursue me?” you say with a small smile.

“Kissing me wasn’t exactly a full proof plan of getting that to happen” Sevika points out with a scoff

“It’s a dead end” you say with a soft tone as you look up at her with hesitant eyes “your not gonna sleep with me”

“Says who?” she asks with a scoff

“Me” you reply firmly

“Maybe i'm not pursuing you just to sleep with you” She declares suddenly, surprising the both of you with the implication.

You stare at each other with wide eyes in silence, Sevika was surprised at herself and you were utterly shocked with Sevika. She pulls away slightly and lets out an awkward cough.

“Madame Emerald and Silco have been having a lot more meetings lately” you point out with a slightly awkward tone, attempting to break the tension.

“What kind of meetings?” Sevika asks curiously

“I’m not sure” you admit with a shrug “Madame has been unusually secretive lately, it's unlike her”

“Unusual for her to keep secrets from her little protege” Sevika agrees with a curious expression

“Do you think they’ll strike a deal and stop being business rivals?” you ask, slightly hopeful at the prospect

“Hard to tell” sevika grunts out with a completive expression “Silco isn’t likely to trust her easily considering the Vander situation”

“Would you like them to make a deal?” you ask carefully, fishing for an answer to see if she was being honest about what she’d said earlier “we wouldn’t be rivals anymore”

Sevika takes one look at your hopeful expression and it almost breaks her heart knowing she’s gonna have to crush it, knowing she can’t afford to show anymore vulnerability after her slip up earlier,

“Why would I care?” she replies purposefully mean and stoic as she raises her guard up once again.

She looks at your taken aback expression before watching you pull away your hand from hers and put your guard back up at the rejection in her words and undertone.

“No reason” you reply as you try and hide your hurt

“No good could come from them working together” Sevika doubles down cruelly as she clenches her fists tightly to stop herself from comforting you.

“Suppose not” you say quietly, lacking the softness from before.

There's a long silence as you stew in your hurt and rejection before you pull away from Sevika.

“I'm gonna head home” you say nonchalantly as you quickly begin walking away, lacking any fondness or warmth in your tone “see you around”

“Yeah…..” Sevika replies to no one in particular as her hand reaches for your figure but makes a fist instead, instantly regretting her words “see you around i guess”

That look on your face keeps replaying in her mind, you looked so hurt and disappointed, she never wants to be the cause of that look again.

—————————-present——————————

“This is bad, Madame” Ginger says as she anxiously paces the floor of your office “really bad”

“I know” you reply with an exhausted tone, your head in your hands sorrowfully as you think of what to do.

“Without those customers we won’t have enough money to keep all the girls fed and housed” Ginger points out anxiously as her pacing increases “we’ll go into debt!”

“It won’t come to that” you say with a sigh as you suddenly sigh “we have another options”

Ginger stops pacing to think for a moment about what your talking about before turning to face you with a mortified expression.

“You can’t be talking about-” she tries to say it but cuts herself off out of disgust “no, absolutely not”

“Ginger” you say gently as you attempt to calm her to no avail

“No” she yells firmly as she walks towards you “go to the meeting with Silco, get more girls in, increase hours, anything but that”

“I can do it” you reassure gently 

“No doing that is only for the most desperate times” She pleads desperately “Madame Emerald wouldn’t want you to-”

“We are desperate ginger, and i would rather do this than ever go to that meeting and let Silco control us” you say firmly, tears building up in your eyes “Madame would want me to do anything to protect this brothel, and i'm gonna do just that”

Ginger just sighs before gathering you in her arms and holding you tightly and allowing you to sob into her chest, not being able to stand the sight of your tears. She just mumbles “I'm sorry Madame” into your hair as you cry.

You've made your decision and she knows its final, she knows that you're doing your best to protect the brothel. She just wished that it didn’t lead you to this path.

[childrenofcain-if]

I just saw the ask about the song D has written/will write for MC, but what about the songs that MC writes for their chosen ROs?

C LACROIX

TRUE BLUE

you said you wanted to feel alive so we went to the beach you were born in jan, ‘06 in a deadly blizzard you say you’re an autumnal bitch but winter’s in your blood you can’t help but become an avalanche

you’ve never done me wrong except for that one time that we don’t talk about because it doesn’t matter anymore who won the fight? i don’t know we’re not keeping score and it feels good to be known so well i can’t hide from you like i hide from myself i remember who i am when i’m with you your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

V NÆSHOLM

THIS IS HOW YOU FALL IN LOVE

“what’s easy is right,” my mother’s advice you are the reason i never think twice

wherever we go what glitters is gold you’ll be my best friend until we grow old

i had a nightmare but now that i’m not scared

this is how you fall in love let go and i’ll hold you up so pull me tight and close your eyes oh, my love, side to side

W OSTENDORF

BAGS

pour your glass of wine rook told me i should be just fine cases under the bed spill it open, let it rush to my head

i don’t wanna be forward, i don’t wanna cut corners savor this with everything i have inside of me i’m not the type to run i know that we’re having fun but what’s the rush? kissing, then my cheeks are so flushed

can you see me? i’m waiting for the right time i can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine can you see me using everything to hold back? i guess this could be worse walking out the door with your bags

D DIACONU

CHELSEA

for a chemical imbalance, you sure know how to ride a train your revolution is a deathbed, and the music is your maid when someone comes a knocking with a needle on a tray only your lonesome lies beside you for you told me not to stay

you are somebody’s baby, some mother held you near no it’s not important, they’re just pretty words, my dear there is no distraction that can make me disappear no there’s nothing that won’t remind you i will always be right here

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

SNOW ON THE BEACH

this scene feels like what i once saw on a screen i searched ‘aurora borealis green’ i’ve never seen someone lit from within blurring out my periphery my smile is like i won a contest and to hide that would be so dishonest and it’s fine to fake it till you make it till you do till it’s true

now it’s like snow at the beach weird, but fucking beautiful flying in a dream stars by the pocketful you wanting me tonight, feels impossible but it’s coming down, no sound, it’s all around like snow on the beach

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 19: Did You Mean That?

Joel confronts your shared past and potential future. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 18, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 6.6k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

Joel was frozen for longer than he was proud of, staring at the place you’d left him. 

I fucking heard you. 

What the fuck did that even mean? Heard what? 

He looked back toward Sarah’s room. He shouldn’t just leave her here by herself but he considered it all the same. He’d just… he’d go after you, make you talk to him like he should have done all those years ago. He wasn’t going to just let you disappear again, not this time. 

Instead, he called you, still standing on his front stoop, still considering chasing after you. It rang twice but then you sent him to voicemail. 

“Fuck!” 

His grip got tight on the phone but he resisted the urge to hurl the phone at the brick of his house. 

“Dad?” Sarah peered at him from around the doorway, her eyes somehow seeming especially wide. 

He sighed. 

“Yes, baby girl.” 

“You and Aunt Goldie were really in a fight, huh.” 

He sighed again, looking at his daughter even though it only made him feel worse. She loved you so much, you were the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother and Joel had fucked that up, too. 

“It’s… it’s complicated, baby girl,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s getting late, you should get ready for bed…” 

“But,” she huffed. “Dad, it’s Goldie. You can’t just let her leave, she’s family!” 

“I know,” he said, a hand on her back as he guided her back inside. “Not gonna just let her go, don’t worry. I just… need to figure out what to do first, OK?” 

“Promise you’re not going to just not talk again for years?” She asked, looking up at him. “Because - sorry, Dad - that was bullshit.” 

“Hey,” he said. “Language.” 

“Dad.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re right. It was bullshit.” 

He texted you while Sarah got ready for bed but you left him on read and he ground his teeth. He read his daughter a chapter from a book and resisted her begging to have him read another one before tucking her in, thankful that she still wanted him to do this at all. 

“Hey Dad?” She said as he went to leave. 

“Yes, baby girl?” 

“You’re going to talk to her, right?” 

He sighed. She sounded so hopeful. 

“I’ll fix it,” he said. “Promise. Love you.” 

“Love you too,” she said, sounding more relaxed. 

He closed the door behind him and went to the living room, pacing for a moment. 

I fucking heard you. 

He tried to remember the conversation with Ricky all those years ago, not something he’d really thought about in so long. 

Other things from that small window of time had dominated Joel’s memory. He remembered trying to find the words to talk to you, trying to come up with a plan for every possible outcome. If you wanted him, too, then he would figure out a way to be there for Tommy and his mom from afar and go with you. If, heaven forbid, you were pregnant, he would do everything to make sure you could still go to school and still be everything you were meant to be while he took care of the rest. If you wanted nothing to do with him… that had been the one scenario he hadn’t come up with a solution for. Of course, that had been the one he’d been left to reckon with. 

He remembered how he felt then, how desperate he’d been. But he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said to fucking Ricky, something that had apparently stuck out in your mind so much that you’d moved across the country without a fucking word. He went over it again and again but couldn’t remember it, even though it felt like his fucking life depended on it. 

Eventually he tried to call you again but it only rang once before you sent him to voicemail. 

He listened to your outgoing message, bright and cheery, flexing his hand again and again as he waited, impatiently, for the beep. 

“Goldie,” he said when it finally let him record a message. “Not letting you walk out, I’m gonna keep calling. Just… pick up, baby. Please.” 

He hung up and immediately called again. Two rings, then voicemail. He called again. 

The fourth time, you finally answered, your voice sharp and harsh. 

“What!” You snapped. “What more do you want from me?” 

“I want to talk to you,” he said, straining to keep calm. “I don’t know what you mean, I don’t remember what the fuck you’re talking about, I…” 

You laughed once, derisively. 

“Of course you don’t,” you said. “You wouldn’t, would you? Because I was always just another girl to you, wasn’t I? Why would you remember…” 

“No,” he cut you off. “No, that’s not…” 

“I need some space, Joel,” you said. 

“I’m not losing you again, Goldie,” he said, harsher than he really meant to. “Please, let me just…” 

“If you don’t want to lose me then do what I’m asking you to do,” you said. “I need space, OK? I can’t just do this with you, I can’t… just don’t call me or text me or whatever, just give me some time.” 

“Goldie…” 

“I mean it, Joel,” you said. “I need space.” 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine,” he said. “I…I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll talk to later.” 

“Will you?” He asked, probably rougher than he should have. 

“Eventually,” you said. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. “Yeah, OK.” 

You hung up and he sighed, sinking onto the couch and cradling his head in his hands for a moment. 

He was on the edge of losing you again, he could feel it. He couldn’t let it happen, not this time. He started thinking again, just like he had all those years ago, trying to think up contingency plans and ways to work through this without you leaving but, really, that’s what it always came back to. He’d do anything - he’d never touch you again, he’d tolerate your shitbag husband, he’d watch you live a life he was agonizingly separate from - if it just meant that you stayed. 

Joel got himself a drink, which quickly became two and then three, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how long he was supposed to stay away from you this time before he passed out on the couch. 

When he woke up the next day, time seemed to crawl. He couldn’t just ignore you.  You were in everything, it seemed. Sarah showed him the books you’d gotten her, excited about reading them. He reviewed his business plan again and again, looking at your notes in the margins. He put on a Longhorns t-shirt and remembered you sitting at his kitchen table, building out your syllabus for the year. 

Even Tommy noticed a difference when he was at work on Tuesday, seemingly short tempered and impatient. 

“You gonna tell me who pissed in your Cheerios or you gonna leave that a mystery?” Tommy asked as they leaned against his truck during a coffee break. 

“What do you mean?” Joel frowned, staring down at the paper cup and thinking about how you took your coffee and wondering what was he supposed to do with that knowledge if you were just gone now.

“I mean you’ve been biting people’s heads off all week,” Tommy said. “I mean, you’re always an asshole but you’ve been in rare form man.” 

“Tommy…” 

“Don’t feed me some bullshit, either,” he interrupted him. “Know you too well for that.” 

Joel looked at Tommy for a moment before he sighed and it all came spilling out of him - prom night, what had been happening between the two of you the last few months, the moment in his kitchen, what you’d yelled at him over the weekend, all of it. 

“Jesus,” Tommy said when he was done, just blinking at him, dumbfounded. “I… fuck, man. I always thought there was something between you two but… holy shit.” 

“I don’t know what the fuck it is she’s talking about,” Joel said. “I talked with Ricky back then but fuck if I can remember what it was about, that was more than a decade ago, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

“I mean… do you know how she feels?” Tommy asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah,” Joel scoffed. “Yeah, I think she’s made that perfectly fuckin’ clear.” 

“Has she?” Tommy said. “Because - and maybe you just didn’t mention it - but I don’t think you actually talked about it. Ever. Not once.” 

Joel frowned, looking at the ground, going over everything in his mind. 

That couldn’t be right, could it? 

It sure seemed like you’d talked about it. Maybe not explicitly, but everything you’d said pointed to you seeing him as a friend. You said you wanted to be with someone you could love and that wasn’t him. The first time he’d slept with you again, you asked him not to call you baby and he’d all but begged you to let him. He’d had to fucking comfort you the morning after the concert, tell you that it didn’t mean anything so you didn’t panic because being with him freaked you out that much. You’d never said it, not in so many words, but you didn’t need to. 

“Maybe you should ask her,” Tommy said when Joel had been quiet for too long. 

“Tommy,” Joel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just…” 

“Can’t you?” Tommy said. “I mean… shit, man. You already blew it all up, what else you got to lose?” 

Tommy’s words were still in Joel’s mind when he left the job site that afternoon, going home to get cleaned up before going to the bank for his business loan appointment. 

What did he really have to lose? He could at least tell you how he felt, a thought that made his chest tight but brought a sense of relief, too. He’d been holding this in for so long now. It seemed like loving you had become a part of him, one that he was used to keeping to himself but one he didn’t want to hide anymore.

He’d told himself for years that he’d loved you quietly because it’s what you wanted. You weren’t interested, it was unfair to put his feelings on you. Even when you were a country away and not speaking with him, he found it strangely comforting to know that while it might be because he’d caved to his baser instincts and slept with you, it wasn’t because he’d pushed his feelings on you. He had regrets - he’d have given anything to take back that night if it meant you’d just talk to him again - but at least he knew how he felt about you hadn’t been the thing that had driven you away. 

Could it really be possible that not telling you had been the thing that sent you running from him? Had he really wasted years of his life not having you all because he’d been too afraid of actually fucking saying it? 

He put on his best clothes - wishing he had a suit for the first time in his life - and took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. It felt like his whole life was riding on this, everything he could have sitting there, just out of reach. 

He’d never been worthy of you before. Back when he met you, he was barely passing his classes, going nowhere fast. Doomed to spend his life in his hometown, doing some job to get by while trying to keep his kid brother’s nose clean. He hadn’t gotten much better since, staying in the first job he could get, doing his best to raise the child he’d made by accident, trying to make something of himself as he could. It was nothing compared to you. But if he could manage this, actually do something real and tangible, maybe he’d feel worthwhile. 

Joel drummed his hands on the steering wheel as he drove, one of the Taylor Swift songs from the concert he’d gone to with you and Sarah coming on the radio and he remembered looking at you that night, remembered how much he wanted to kiss you in a way that actually meant something. He had to do this. He had to. 

His stomach was in knots as he sat in the bank waiting room, one foot bouncing as he tried not to crinkle his presentation and application in his hands. He wished you were here. Why was he doing this on his own? What made him think he was even fucking capable of this without you? 

After what felt like a small eternity, a woman named Audrey brought him back to her office and Joel took a deep breath before walking her through his business plan. 

His heart was pounding the entire time and there was something perverse about talking through a future that you weren’t somehow a part of. He walked Audrey through the financial plans, what the next five years would look like and there was the nagging thought at the back of his mind that he should have talked with you about all of this. How money would be tight for a while, how he’d be extra busy, how much he appreciated the way you’d supported him through all of this so far. He never could have done this without you pushing him, encouraging him, helping him navigate the business world. It felt like your success, too, when Audrey set his presentation down on her desk, nodding. 

“Well, Joel,” she said, looking at him with a smile. “I think we have everything we need. Congratulations, you’re getting your loan!” 

Joel just laughed for a second, looking next to him quickly before remembering that you weren’t by his side. 

“Thank you,” he said. “This is… thank you very much.” 

“Looking forward to doing business with you,” she smiled. “Give me just a minute and I’ll be back with some papers so we can get things going.” 

Joel took his phone out and stared at his text message conversation with you, the last thing he sent still “I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell you that he’d done it. He was a business owner, he was going to be something, he was becoming someone that Sarah was going to be proud of and it was all because you’d come back into his life. You were who he wanted to share this with and he couldn’t. 

Audrey gave him the paperwork and he went through it page by page, more than a little reminded of when he got his mortgage and felt like he was signing his life away but with more optimism about his future this time. 

About halfway through the paperwork, though, the pen started skipping. He tried wetting the tip of it, scratching on a corner of the paper but he couldn’t get it to write smoothly again. 

“Do you got another one of these?” Joel asked, holding the pen up. “Can’t get it to work…” 

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Audrey said, looking around her desk, including at an empty pen cup. “Let me just…” 

She opened a desk drawer and took a few things out, piling things on her desk - a purse, water bottle, a book. 

Joel cocked his head at the book, the spine of it familiar. So familiar that he couldn’t help but laugh. Of course you’d be here, too. 

“What?” She asked as she found a plain, white box and pulled out a handful of pens with the bank’s logo on the side. She dropped them into the pen cup and held one out to Joel. 

“Oh, nothin’,” he said, taking the pen and nodding at the novel. “Just… my friend, she wrote that book. Funny seeing someone read it.” 

“Wait, really?” She asked, her face lighting up as she held up your book. “You know who wrote this?” 

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “Yeah, she’s my best friend, known her since we were 15. She’s… she’s amazing. She teaches now, over at UT.” 

Audrey set the book down, leaning over the desk with her arms folded in front of her like she was going to tell Joel some kind of secret. 

“OK can I ask something?” She asked. “Sorry, this is probably hugely unprofessional but I am obsessed with this book, I can’t put it down and my book club is going crazy. Is any of it true? The falling in love and things ending like that? It seems like it has to be at least somewhat based on her life, I don’t see how someone could write this without knowing it, you know?” 

“Oh, uh,” Joel cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I actually… haven’t read it?” 

“Oh,” she said, sitting back a little, looking let down. 

“Sorry,” Joel said. “I’ve tried and I know it’ll be amazing but it’s just too weird for me…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” she laughed a little. “I overstepped, I shouldn’t have assumed…” 

“I should read it,” Joel said quickly. “I got it at home, maybe I’ll give it another go now.” 

“You should,” Audrey said. “It’s really, really good.” 

The new pen worked and Joel finished the paperwork, staring at his signature on the last page a  little too long. He handed the pen and papers back to Audrey. 

“You can keep the pen,” she smiled, taking the pages. “Let me make copies of these for your records but otherwise, congratulations, owner of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting!” 

Joel had a bubble of pride in his chest as he drove home, one that seemed too big to keep contained and, against his better judgement, he called you. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected, if he thought you were going to send him to voicemail, if you were going to answer and let him actually say something to you or what. 

What he didn’t expect was Gale. 

“Hello?” 

Joel just blinked for a second, recognizing the man’s pompous voice even from just the one word. 

“Is this Joel?” Gale - fucking BRAD - said. He took his silence as a yes and laughed. “Was wondering if I’d hear from you. Don’t worry, she’s with me, back where she belongs. Thanks for looking after her while I was gone, though. Appreciate it.” 

“Lemme talk to her,” Joel said through clenched teeth. 

“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” he said. “Seems like she doesn’t want much to do with you these days. Think you blew it. Thanks for that, too, by the way.” 

“We’re just…” 

“You’re just nothing,” Gale cut him off. “You were nothing but a childish distraction for her. She went running back here when things got hard - which I take my part of the blame for - and she needed a project to keep herself busy but she doesn’t need you anymore. So go back to the little life you’re meant for and leave us be. She was always too much for you and this place, anyway.” 

“No,” Joel said sharply. “No, you put her on the phone, put her on the phone right now!” 

“Can’t do that,” Gale said. “But I’ll tell her you called. Take care.” 

The line went dead and Joel threw his phone against the dash so hard the screen cracked. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his hands against the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to lose you, not again, not like this. 

He ignored Gale. Instead, he drove to your house, pounding sharply on the door, panting for breath as he did but you never answered. 

So he went to Anna’s next. He only needed to knock for a minute before she opened the door, Ellie’s beaming, chubby face happy in her arms. 

“Hey Joel,” Anna smiled at him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Here to see this one?” 

Ellie squirmed in Anna’s arms, cooing and reaching for Joel and he laughed once, he couldn’t help it, before holding his arms out for her. Anna handed him her daughter and Ellie giggled, immediately reaching to tangle her tiny fingers in his curls. He smiled at her for a moment, marveling at the little girl who’d brought you and him together in the way it felt like you were always meant to be.

“Is she here?” Joel asked, bouncing a little with Ellie, watching her smile, her little body a grounding force that eased his racing heart. 

“Oh,” Anna frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. “No, sorry, she’s not here too often anymore, just a few times a week… She moved back home, I thought you knew that?” 

“No, I did,” Joel said quickly, looking to Anna and offering a finger to Ellie for her to gum at. “She just… wasn’t there, tried callin’ her but…” 

“Oh,” Anna pulled her phone out, looking at the time. “She might still be at the school, I can call her for you…” 

“No,” Joel said quickly, not wanting to get your sister involved in the mess of whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it, sure I’ll talk to her eventually.” 

“OK,” Anna said, still frowning. “Look… It’s not my business but… Is there something going on with you two?” 

Joel just looked at Anna for a moment, wondering if he should tell her, too, because fuck it, why not just let the whole world know how much he’d fucked up with you.  

But she beat him to it, going from a frown to an absolutely glowing smile in no time at all. 

“Oh my God.” 

“What?” He asked, adjusting his hold on Ellie. 

“You love her!” She sounded practically giddy. “Oh my GOD I knew it! You LOVE her! Have you told her? Does she know? Oh my GOD, JOEL!” 

“I… I haven’t exactly said it,” Joel said, his cheeks getting hot. “I don’t want to make it her problem, I don’t want to get in the way of her being happy, I just… I want to be there for it.”

Anna just looked at him for a moment before shaking her head a little. 

“Is… Is she happy with him?” Joel asked, watching your sister closely. “Is he what she wants? I didn’t know her when they were really together, I just… it seems like he holds her back and that he’s bad for her and…” 

“Joel, did you read her book?” Anna cut him off. 

He frowned. 

“What? What does that…” 

“You wanted to know if he’s what she wants,” Anna said. “She’s never going to actually say it, you know that. At least not to you or to me, she’s always going to try to seem like she’s OK and handle it herself until she can’t and even then she’s not going to actually fucking say it, Joel, but she will write it. She always writes it. Read the book, Joel.” 

He gave Ellie back to Anna and went home, trying to focus as he made Sarah dinner and helped her with her homework. 

Read the book. Just read the fucking book. Was that all it would take? Could he even do that? If fucking Brad really was what you wanted, could he really sit and read hundreds of pages about how much better your life had been when he wasn’t in it? 

He’d never been able to manage it and it wasn’t because he didn’t want to know you through your words and it wasn’t because he didn’t like your writing. It was because he didn’t know if he could stomach reading something you wrote while you were in love with someone else. 

But… Anna was right. He knew that. If he wanted to know the truth of any of it, he’d have to read it. So, after he tucked Sarah into bed, he sat on the floor, staring at the box in his closet that held the two copies of your book like it was daring him to actually confront his feelings for a change. Because that had always worked out so well for him in the past, not like every fucking time he’d resolved to actually talk to you he hadn’t found you loving someone else. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, opening the box and pulling out the books. This time, though, he picked the signed copy, the one he’d never tried to read before. There was something different about holding this copy, knowing that you had once, too. He ran his hands over the cover and the spine reverently for a moment before he leaned his back against the wall of the closet and opened the book. 

Joel had to force himself to read past the first few paragraphs, his stomach in knots the entire time, but, after a while, he fell into it - to the point that he almost forgot that he was reading your book. 

He’d known, from what little he’d managed to read in the past, that the book started in Austin, he just hadn’t expected the story to linger there.

But it did, the narrative following a girl named Cressida. She started out as a quiet, introspective high schooler who had become unlikely friends with a football player named Eli, a friendship that felt so like his with yours. They knew each other, understood each other, their worlds seem to revolve around each other. It seemed natural that it led to them sleeping together. But instead of the immediate implosion that had ended your relationship in real life, theirs devolved over time. Cressida came back to him again and again, the two of them winding up loosely connected every time a relationship of Eli’s fizzled out, her clinging to a heart wrenching longing that hurt to read, one that her friend seemed shockingly oblivious to.

Eventually, though, things came crashing down. This was different too, though, because it ended not with her vanishing but him, a car accident claiming Eli’s life when Cressida had finally resolved to tell him how she felt. They buried him in a sunny corner of the graveyard just before graduation and Cressida, it seemed, never really moved past it.

The other three-quarters of the book followed her as she tried – desperately, devastatingly – to live again, to get over the love she’d never really had to begin with, to find some place to root herself outside of that sun-drenched grave in her hometown.

She never really managed it, the ending almost painfully unsatisfying but feeling true. She’d become something – Cressida delving into the business world instead of the creative one as you had – and she found success away from home but her mind kept going back to that place and that person. She’d had relationships but, when her last boyfriend had proposed, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. It had felt like a lie, to tell someone she would love him above all others when she’d never love him more than the memory of the boy who had been gone for years. He’d died at the worst time, the part of her life that would always be on a pedestal no matter what she did. Nothing and no one would ever compare and she was stuck, still going back to him again and again even though he was cold in the ground.

The last chapter closed with her bringing home a man who reminded her of her friend, something charming about him that took her back to that brighter place for a while. But when he fell asleep next to her, she had to confront that hollow feeling in her chest. In the last moment of the story, she bought a plane ticket to go back to that sunny grave site, something about the calm that fell over her when she decided to go back making it seem like that grave was her resting place, too.

Joel just stared at the book when he read the final words, the last pages flopping over, revealing your picture on the inside flap of the dust jacket. That knowing smile and piercing gaze gutted him then, no longer the taunt and temptation of knowledge they had once been.

Was Anna right, was this the truth of it? Did you write out your real feelings? Had he really gotten everything this fucking wrong? Had he really spent years wishing things with you were different when they’d been different all along?

He got out his phone and ignored the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning and called you. You didn’t answer. It didn’t even go to voicemail, the phone ringing once before he got some message saying the number was unavailable.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He wasn’t positive but, based on his experience trying to track down Sarah’s mom years ago, that meant you’d blocked his number. It’d be just his fucking luck that he thought - hoped? - that, maybe, you felt the way he did at the same time he lost you for good.

He sat there with his eyes closed in the glow of his closet light, next to the box made up of the history of you, trying to pick through his memory from all those years ago, searching for some sort of guarantee that the book was based on what happened between the two of you back then.  

At some point, when he was swallowed by his memory of you, he fell asleep. Maybe it was the book, maybe it was the fact that he’d been sifting through ancient history when exhaustion finally caught up with him, maybe it was your words still ringing in his ears, but he remembered then. 

In his dream, he was back under the bleachers with Ricky, pacing to work out his nerves. He talked to his friend - the one who was more experienced, the one who wasn’t reckless, the one who would understand exactly why he was so afraid of what he might have just done to you. 

But, most importantly, he remembered exactly how that conversation had ended. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

“Dad!” 

Joel jerked awake, the book still open in his hands, your signature there for him to see. 

I fucking heard you. 

Sarah pounded on his bedroom door again. 

“Dad, come on!” She yelled. “I’m gonna be late!” 

“Shit,” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and checked the time before calling to his daughter. “Two minutes, baby girl!” 

He got up as quickly as he could, his legs tingling from his awkward sleeping position on the floor of the fucking closet. 

Joel got changed quickly, barely paying attention to what he was putting on.

He’d had the answers sitting there for years, he’d just been too afraid to look it in the face but he had and now he knew. He knew how you felt - how you must have felt, why else would his misunderstood words have driven you away? - he knew how much time he’d already fucking wasted by being a coward, he knew it all now. 

He just didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. 

Joel got Sarah out the door quickly, barely paying attention on his drive to the school. He couldn’t just give up. He already refused to lose you, not again, but now it would be impossible. You were so close, everything he’d ever wanted there in front of him but just out of reach. Even if you’d moved on now, even if you were happier with fucking Brad, he had to tell you. He owed both of you that much. 

“Bye Dad!” Sarah poked her head between the two front seats and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” He frowned, turning to look at her. 

She just shrugged and smiled. 

“Just seemed like you needed it,” she said. “Love you!” 

“Love you too!” He called after her as she hopped down from the truck and slammed the door behind her with a little too much force, waving behind her as she ran to the building. 

“Alright,” he took a deep breath, looking at the clock on his dashboard. Just after 8 a.m. He’d start at your place because he wasn’t sure what time you went to campus this semester. But he was going to talk to you. He was going to talk to you and he was going to tell you how he felt and he was going to do it today. “I’m comin’, Goldie.” 

You weren’t at your place when he got there. He tried not to think about if it was because you’d spent the night with fucking Brad, if you’d gone to his hotel and had never even been here. Instead, he went to campus. He wasn’t sure where you’d be teaching right now but he was pretty sure you wouldn’t be in your office. You always had morning classes with a break in the afternoon. 

“Excuse me,” he said to a random passing college student. “I’m lookin’ for… shit, probably creative writing? Or literature? What buildings are those?” 

“Oh, um,” the girl looked around quickly. “I’m a physics major but I know I had an English class in that building over there last semester? You could start there?” 

She pointed to a building in the distance and Joel kept his groan to himself. He forgot how fucking huge college campuses were. 

But he couldn’t just sit and wait. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now. 

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a wave and already starting to jog for the building. “Appreciate it!” 

But you didn’t have a class in that building. At least not at that time of day. He knew because he looked in all the lecture halls. You weren’t there. 

He tried two other buildings after asking for directions - no luck - before checking his watch. If your schedule was anything like it had been the semesters before, you’d be in your office soon. That, at least, he knew how to find. 

He jogged there, resisting the urge to run because that would probably make him look utterly insane, and threw his arm out to catch the elevator on its way up. 

“Floor 10, please,” he said to one of the college girls looking at him funny as he panted for breath. She did as he asked, though, and he marveled, for a moment, at just how fucking young college kids seemed to him now.

He closed his eyes and focused for a second, trying to figure out exactly what to say to you, but hearing your name pulled him out of his head. 

“I don’t think they’re still like… together together, though,” the girl who’d pushed the button said. “Like I know they were married but she said he was visiting. He’d live here if they were married, right? Besides, I really don’t think her husband would be asking for my number with his wife there, would he?” 

“I dunno,” the other girl shrugged. “He’s just… isn’t he old? Like old old, not hot old.” 

“I like them old,” the first girl giggled. “They know what they’re doing then.” 

The elevator chimed and the girls got off and Joel’s heart was beating so hard he could feel the blood in his body. You’d brought fucking Brad here and he’d hit on one of your fucking students - one who looked so young Joel never would have looked twice at her if he saw her on the street. Right in front of you, from the sounds of it. That’s who you’d chosen, that’s who you’d felt like you deserved because he hadn’t opened his fucking mouth years earlier. 

When the elevator made it to floor 10, he squeezed out of the doors, not willing to wait for them to open all the way, and ran to your office. 

“Excuse me,” the girl behind the front desk said as he went past her. “You can’t just…” 

“It’s fine,” he said, catching the door as someone came out of the hall where your office was. 

“No, wait!” She called after him but he ignored her. 

He ducked around other professors, dodging them and their questions until he was at your door. 

It was closed but he didn’t bother to knock, throwing the door open to find you there, standing in front of your desk in the arms of your fucking husband as he kissed you. 

Joel moved so fast that neither you nor Gale had noticed he was there but he couldn’t just stand there and watch that fucking guy kiss you, not like that. 

Without really thinking about it, he ripped him away from you, just catching a glimpse of the shock on your face as he punched Gale in the head, sending him sprawling into your desk. 

“Joel!” You yelled before grabbing his arm and pulling him back before he could hit your goddamn husband again. “What the fuck are you doing!” 

“Sorry, baby,” he said, shaking the feel of the punch out of his hand, his knuckles raw. “I couldn’t just watch that fucking guy touch you like that.” 

“Well, it’s really not your business how he touches me!” You snapped, shoving him back. “You don’t get to just come in here and hit people because you’re not getting your way anymore!” 

“That ain’t what this is,” he said, taking you by the shoulders, something grounding in the fact that could feel you again. “Baby, I read your book…” 

“Congratulations!” You snapped. “What, do you want a cookie because you finally got around to supporting me?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Did you mean that? What you wrote, was that…” 

“What does it matter!” You asked, your eyes searching his face. “Why do you care! It’s ancient history, it doesn’t…” 

“It does matter!” He held you tight, wanting to kiss you more than he ever had before. “It matters because I love you, I love you so much, I’ve loved you since we were fucking kids, I love you so much that I think it might kill me if you don’t let me just say that to you at least this once and if you feel that way, too…” 

“You need to leave,” Gale - who Joel had all but forgotten about - said, trying to position himself between you and Joel. “And take your hands off my wife.” 

“Oh I haven’t even fuckin’ started with you,” Joel said, rounding on him. “You’re a fucking predator, chasing after her fuckin’ students while you’re here with her? Doing with them what you did with her, that it? Lucky I don’t beat the shit out of you…” 

“Joel, I…” you began, but you didn’t get the chance to finish, Gale pulling you back from Joel and going to hit him. 

Joel didn’t give him the chance, shoving him away from you before punching him again. Gale fell, landing on your desk again with a sharp crack. 

“Joel!” You yelled. 

He didn’t get a chance to respond. Instead, he got pulled back, security guards dragging him into the hall and away from you before he knew if he had a shot at really having you for the first time in his life.

A/N: FUCK YOU GALE!

Sorry, I've been picturing that moment since I first thought up the fic. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[cherrycolored-punk]

take care - best friend! e.m. x fem!reader

Softember 🍂 prompt: “When have I ever listened to you?”

author’s note: a companion piece, a prelude if you will, to Still Frames. I’m starting to feel like I’m overcoming the hurdle in my brain and can start on my bigger projects again. For now, take some comfort in Eddie taking care of us 🧡 written with @joejoequinnquinn in my mind, hope you feel better xx

warnings: none, but you already know what I’m going to say. This is an 18+ blog, minors go away!

w/c: 2k

It started with a sore throat, an ache that you hoped was allergies but as the day progressed and your symptoms worsened you knew: it was the flu.

If there’s anything you hate more, it’s being sick but especially now that you live alone. Nothing worse than coughing up a lung, dizzy from the severe congestion throwing off your equilibrium, and trying to make soup.

A stupid can of soup that isn’t even your favorite.

Now, you sit up in bed with scattered tissues surrounding you like a makeshift moat and text your best friend. Bugging him while he was at work.

You: I’m dyinggg

You stare at the screen, willing an instant response but knowing he’s probably elbow deep in some car’s hood. The shop busier at this time of year.

Half-lidded eyes focus on the television screen as you burrow deeper into the comforter and clutch the phone to your chest, another episode of your favorite trash tv playing. You’re fighting sleep, stubborn as always, when the sudden buzz of your phone startles you.

Eddie: what’s new?

Jerk, you scoff. A tiny smile playing on your lips despite your best efforts.

You: you’d really make fun of me while I’m on my death bed?

And despite the distance, you can hear the way he grumbles when he reads your message.

Eddie: 🙄

Eddie: what do you need?

Your fingers swipe over the keys quickly, a devious smile pulling across your face despite how you feel.

You: hit me with your van, stab me in the face…please end my suffering.

He texts you at the same time, knowing your history of dramatics.

Eddie: from the STORE

You: oh :(

You pout, even though he can’t see it.

You: nothing, I don’t want to get you sick.

The three little dots appear on the screen, and you wait for his response until they disappear altogether. Probably had to get back to work, you figure and toss your phone back onto the comforter. Re-burying yourself deep beneath the covers to rest.

—

A sharp knock on the front door wakes you, groggy and unsure of what day it is. For a moment, you don’t move. Confused as to who the fuck is at your door and lacking the energy to care. You just want to sleep.

The knocking continues, and you groan as you push out of bed. Dragging your feet to the front door. Hair in disarray, black Twilight shirt tucked into your oversized sweats and a cardigan hugging your frame. Looking as good as you feel.

Eddie smiles at you as you pull open the heavy wooden frame. The cold breeze greeting you and making you shiver despite the layers of clothes you wear.

“What are you doing here?” The words come out like a squeak, muffled by your congestion.

“I come bearing goods,” he holds up the bags before pushing past you and into your apartment. You’re a little gobsmacked, thoughts trying to catch up with what he said and you turn to follow him. Doing your best not to think about your appearance or how awful you probably look given your current state.

“I thought I told you not to come over,” you pout, pressing your elbows onto the counter top and watching his back.

He’s still dressed in his oil-stained navy coveralls, hair pulled back in a bun, and faintly smells like car grease. From what you can smell anyways.

Eddie looks over at you, concerned eyes dancing over your face, and a smirk pushing the dimple into his cheek.

“When have I ever listened to you?” You roll your eyes and shrug, because it’s true. He hardly ever did. Not now or the time he got that moth-man tattoo from a questionable shop or when he drank an awful concoction of alcohol right before a gig. He lived to do exactly the opposite of what you said…what anyone said.

He unpacks the grocery bags, a treasure trove of goods that he names as he sets them onto the counter and you watch from your spot on the opposite side of the kitchen.

“I got you theraflu tea, and I don’t want to hear you complain about the taste. You just need to drink it,” he scolds before you can even complain.

Your jaw snaps shut and swallow down your sarcastic rebuttal.

“Also got your favorite soup, four cans,” he holds his fingers up, “orange juice, Vicks, popsicles in case your throat hurts, those saltines you like, and,” he turns back to the other counter, reaching for something on its surface before looking back at you, “I brought Scream for us to watch since I know it’s your favorite.”

Something like affection stirs in your stomach but it bares a different face than the love you usually feel for him. It’s bigger and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

It’s the way he’s smiling, the familiar excited gleam in his eye as he looks at you. It’s the fact that he’s shown up after a twelve-hour shift with all your favorite sick foods in tow.

And he doesn’t seem to notice the way you gawk at him now, eyes round like saucers and unsure what to do when your heart is hammering in your chest. An unfamiliar thud that seems to beat in pace with every syllable of his name.

Your eyes trace over his face like you’re seeing him for the first time. The sharp edge of his jaw, the plump of his lips, the freckles that dot the slope of his nose, and when did Eddie become so beautiful?

It’s because you’re sick, you tell yourself. A virus is wreaking havoc on your immune system and there’s definitely less oxygen getting to your brain so it’s obviously affecting your thinking. There’s no way you like him as more than just a friend.

Right?

He rounds the corner and places firm hands on your shoulders, “Go sit down, get comfortable, and I’ll make you some soup.” He points his chin in the direction of your living room.

His eyebrows disappear into his bangs, waiting for you to argue but you’re stuck on the crush budding in your gut and all you can do is nod.

“She doesn’t want to argue?” He laughs, watching as you plop onto the couch and you know this is where you’re supposed to say something. Anything that resembles your usual banter.

“Brain is barely functioning,” you point to your head and he nods.

“I’ll try to get you doctored up,” and he’s already making quick work of the soup. Moving around your kitchen for everything he needs like he’s done numerous times before. You watch him from your place on the couch, cheeks heating the longer you do. Seconds dragging like minutes and finally you turn away. Doing your best to kill the crush but it’s already begun to sprout and grow.

In need of a distraction, you will yourself off the couch and pop in the dvd. Amused, as always, by the cheesy narration of nineties movie trailers. This is how Eddie finds you, sitting too close to the screen and not on the couch where he’d told you to get comfortable.

“What did I tell you?” He questions with a tut of his tongue as he slides the bowl of soup onto the coffee table alongside the sleeve of saltines he’d grabbed and the steaming cup of theraflu tea he made.

“When have I ever listened to you?” You mock his earlier sentiment and he rolls his eyes, pulling down his coveralls so he doesn’t get oil on your couch.

“Guess you’re not that sick,” he jokes, oblivious to the heat in your cheeks or how the sarcasm lodges in your throat.

Beneath the navy material, he wears a white muscle shirt that stretches across the muscle of his chest. Showcasing the expanse of his alabaster skin lined with tattoos. Flesh you’ve seen before but somehow has a new effect on you.

You avert your eyes to the bowl of steaming soup and crawl towards it, stomach grumbling for the first time all day.

“Thank you, Edward,” you give him a tight grin despite how grateful you actually are, finding that being a brat is the easiest way to hide how you feel.

He gives you a crooked grin, shaking his brown curls free as he gets more comfortable.

“Whatever, Princess,” his voice just as sardonic, taking pleasure in knowing how much you hate when he calls you that.

The two of you fall into silence, focusing attention back onto the small screen. Casey Becker runs from Ghostface, her screams of terror filling your living room. The flashes from the television bouncing off the white walls in the dimly lit space.

The apartment feels cozy, a small vanilla candle lit and your LED lights set to low. A faux-warmth that helps you relax, takes your mind off your cute best friend sitting only a few feet away. Not noticing the way he eyes you curiously as you continue to sit cross-legged in front of the coffee table and sip down soup when there’s an entire couch for you to get comfortable on.

“Why are you sitting on the floor? Do I have cooties all of a sudden?” He questions abruptly and flings the hair tie that was securing his curls in your direction but you lean out of the way just in time, blowing on your soup before slurping it loudly.

“No, but I do. I don’t want to get you sick.”

I don’t want to sit next to you while I’m questioning how I feel for you, you scream internally.

He waves you off with a shake of his head and pats the spot next to him.

“If I get sick, I get sick. Means an extra long weekend,” he grins, beckoning you to the sofa with a wave of his hand that you oblige.

You leave a few inches between, enough room for the Holy Spirit and the big feelings suddenly emerging. The distance not going unnoticed.

“Seriously, you’re being weird,” he laughs, “since when are you not all in my space even when you’re sick,” he pokes you and you feign a laugh. Pushing another spoonful of soup into your mouth, teeth scrapping against the metal of the spoon.

He’s right, you’re intentionally annoying a majority of the time just to get a rise out of him. Invading his space whenever you get a chance and anything but that seems…off.

You scoot closer, stopping when your thigh rubs against his.

“Cracker?” You offer, holding the sleeve of them out to him. He gives you a curious quirk of his brow but doesn’t say anything, chopping your antics up to how bad you must feel.

“Thanks,” he grabs one and chews it loudly as he places his other arm over the back of the couch. The warmth of it felt just above your shoulders. Keeping you distracted as you try to watch the movie.

The soup warms you as you gulp the rest of it down and munch on some crackers, taking a few begrudging sips of the medicinal tea. A satisfied grin pulling at your lips when you realize you can’t exactly taste it, the congestion coming in handy to block its acrid flavor.

You shuffle around, picking up the remnants of your mess but when Eddie notices the empty bowl, he stands to clear the dish despite your protests.

“I can wash a bowl,” he waves your hands away and takes quick strides to the kitchen, “just relax and watch the movie.”

“News to me,” you tease, pulling the heavy blanket next to you over your lap and getting comfortable just like he’d instructed. Watching as the movie unfolds and Sidney first learns about the killer who may have ties to her mom’s death, all the while he cleans up the mess he’d made while making your food.

Your eyelids feel heavier as the minutes pass, and you’re doing everything in your power to fight it. To be a good host and enjoy his company for a moment longer.

Eddie returns, sliding into the same spot on the couch and grinning to himself when he notices you fighting sleep. Stomach full of soup and theraflu he’d made you consume.

You’re too tired to protest when he pulls you into his arms, rubbing a comforting hand along your back and smoothing out your hair. Even if you could, you wouldn’t fight it. Finding solace on his firm chest, arm wrapped around his torso and doing your best to fight off the sleep. Eyes glazed over as you focus on the screen, Sidney Prescott being chased out of the bathroom and into the arms of her suspect boyfriend. Not exactly paying attention to the film when Eddie’s hand rubs back and forth, all too comforting and a little hypnotizing.

He’s not watching either, enjoying the way your head falls forward as your eyes begin to close only for you to jolt awake. Swearing you’re not tired. Just as stubborn, just as cute, as you always were.

When you finally stop fighting it, he holds you close. Kissing the top of your head and tucking you in, falling asleep despite the ache in his back and the tension in his shoulders from a long day. He wouldn’t have wanted it to end any other way.

—

thank you for reading! xx el

[faithshouseofchaos]

“Dancing in December” — Quinn Hughes— x reader

Word count 547

Fluff

Tagged — @purplephantomwolf and @toasttt11

The smell of pine and cinnamon filled the air, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting a warm light across the living room. Snow was falling gently outside, blanketing the world in a serene hush, but inside, the crackle of the fireplace and the cheerful melody of Christmas music brought the space to life.

You were swaying in the middle of the room, your arms full of ornaments as you tried to figure out where to hang the last few. Quinn sat cross-legged on the couch, watching you with a fond smile, his hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate.

“You know,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re putting all the good ornaments on one side of the tree.”

You turned to him with an exaggerated gasp. “How dare you accuse me of such a crime! I’m distributing them perfectly evenly.”

He chuckled, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “Yeah, sure you are.”

“Fine, if you’re so confident, you can do it yourself.” You plopped the box of ornaments onto the floor and crossed your arms, smirking at him.

Quinn stood, brushing off his sweatpants as he walked over to you. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and spun you in a slow circle.

“Quinn!” you said, laughing as you nearly dropped one of the ornaments.

“What?” he asked, his lips quirking into a boyish grin. “You can’t just listen to Christmas music and not dance. It’s a crime against the holidays.”

He reached over and gently took the ornament from your hand, setting it aside before tugging you closer. The upbeat rhythm of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree filled the room as Quinn started swaying back and forth, his movements a little awkward but undeniably charming.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, though your laughter betrayed you.

“And you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, spinning you again.

You gave in, matching his steps as he pulled you around the living room. At first, you were both just goofing around, your laughter echoing off the walls as he twirled you under his arm and dipped you dramatically. But as the song changed to something slower—Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas—his grip on your hand softened, and he pulled you closer.

The laughter faded, replaced by a quiet, tender moment as you rested your head against his chest. Quinn’s arms wrapped around you, holding you gently but firmly, like he never wanted to let go.

“You’re not bad at this,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his hoodie.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. “I’ve got a good partner.”

The two of you swayed in silence for a while, the music fading into the background as the world outside disappeared. It wasn’t until the song ended that you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him.

“Merry Christmas, Quinn,” you said softly.

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, his eyes shining in the glow of the tree. “Merry Christmas.”

And with that, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the kind of kiss that made you feel like you were home—no matter where you were.

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

We moved on from Buck being the one to meet Kim at the station too fast. Way too fast.

Because hey, what would you do if the dead wife or a doppelgänger dead wife of your best friend-partner-almost love of your life showed up at your place of work with brownies? Would you ignore the date you scheduled in favor of driving over to your best friend’s place to knock urgently on his back door because you’re so afraid that something is happening to him. And you know that something is happening because the doppelgänger of his dead wife just showed up to the firehouse with brownies like it was just another Monday. You think you might have to push him to talk, but it feels more like your best friend was just waiting for someone to see him, and he is just as dumbfounded as you, and maybe even as scared for himself as you are for him. So you tell him that he needs to break it off with the doppelgänger of his dead wife, but you know that it’s more complicated than that, your best friend’s feelings, even though you trust him to do the right thing and end it with her. But you’re still not through the shock of seeing the doppelgänger of your best friend’s dead wife standing in the fire station, heart beating, lungs expanding, and so you think that maybe your best friend is still in shock too, and you don’t want to push too hard at his grief-wound. So you leave it for now, and you don’t come back to it until it blows up in your face, and your best friend’s face, and his son’s face too.

So yeah, I’d say that Buck probably has a lot of regrets too about the Kim situation. He’s a fixer, no matter how hard he tries, and they lost the kid both of them love more than anything over the situation. You can’t tell me that Buck hasn’t been screaming crying throwing up about it since May. Fuck that.

It doesn’t matter that we don’t get characters’ inner thoughts (usually) on this show. Buck met Kim, and he talked about it with Eddie twice. That’s crazy. That’s certifiably insane. It’s been six months. The midseason finale is tomorrow. There is no excuse for Eddie and Christopher still not speaking. This is no excuse for Buck and Eddie still never discussing Kim or at least Chris leaving. These characters are not meant to be this horrifically repressed. It is strange. It is out of character. Kim showed up for about four episodes and disappeared into the ether. I want to know what the hell is going on with this storyline.

[graysnetwork]

"𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬, 𝐰𝐞'𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭…"

Summary: Keegan can't won't commit to a relationship. (even if he loves you...)

Notes/warnings: Sex, no aftercare, Keegan switches up and he's cold.

The head board banged against the wall with each thrust Keegan gave into your cunt, his pants and your moans filled the room completely. Neither of you could even form words at this point as you came close to your own climaxes.

Keegan's strangled moan overpowered the faint noise of the tv in your living room as you come undone. He came as well at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock. It was like a version of paradise for him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist went limp as he pulled out and rested against you for a few minutes. “When do you have to get back?” You whispered, breathing in the thick, sex scented air through your pants. “Tonight,” he lied, he had to be back at base tomorrow afternoon but you didn’t need that information. “So soon?” You asked, following his movements as he got up on his knees. He only hummed quietly as a response as his eyes roamed over your naked body.

Perfect he thought.

He wished he would stay here, cherish you. But he was a soldier, never even knew if he’d return to base alive when he went out for an assignment. Keegan Russ didn’t do relationships. Too risky.

“Shower,” he said simply, you’d gotten used to his one word statements. You’d gotten used to the hookups and the disappearances.

Watching as he walked into your bathroom you thought of the possibility of you two. You could work. You’d wait for him, you’d stay up at night; waiting for him to return home. You’d love him, you did love him.

Ever since he fell asleep that one night after sex you’d been able to see yourself with him for the rest of your life. It was just Keegan who didn’t want that, or maybe he did, maybe he was just denying himself of a happy life.

Twenty minutes later of sitting against your head board and planning your wedding he came back out, already dressed in his black t-shirt and black cargos. You watched silently as he slipped his feet into his socks and then his shoes.

“Why can’t we have something normal?” You spoke up, you could see his back tense at the question. “This is normal.” He replied coldly, his tone was so much more different than when he’d arrived at your apartment. “It’s not when you know that I love you,” You started pulling the bed sheets off of yourself to get up from the bed.

“Don’t.” Keegan finally met your gaze, his eyes were as cold as his tone and you felt shivers run up your spine. “If you don’t want me to love you then stop coming back” you huffed, wrapping yourself in your satin robe.  “Don’t come near me” he whispered.

You froze slightly, thinking up why he didn’t want you to come close. “Just let me go” he whispered and stood up, your head tilted up just to be able to look at his face again. “Am I not enough?” you asked, following him out of the bedroom” “Y/n, stop.”

“No, tell me!” you yelled at him, anger bubbling inside of you from every time he’d come back for sex, every time he’d ever left you at night.

He turned and grabbed your waist, smashing his lips against yours. The anger bubbled and settled again. Fuck you, Keegan… you thought.

“I’m not a good man” he whispers, his lips grazing yours, his breathing is heavy, he’s trying to smell as much of you as he can so he can remember it for longer while he's gone. “I’ve done bad things, and you… look at you” he whispered, the inner corners of his brows rising up. “You’re perfect…”

“You ar–...”

“No, I’m not” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your lips to shut you up. “I’ll stop coming completely, or I’ll only come over for sex, it's up to you. But we don’t work, there's never a guarantee that I’ll live, and I can’t put that burden on you” he whispers, his icy eyes gazing into yours. “Keegan…” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. You're tired of this, but that ultimatum is impossible to choose from.

“We can try…” you whispered, you looked down, if you looked at him for any longer you would cry. As you looked down you could see every scar that marked his arms and it reminded you of why he didn’t want to commit. “I can't do that to you”

“Please?” you whispered only to receive a head shake.

“I gotta go, text me what you decide.” He kisses your forehead and walks out the door.

The closure he always forced himself to feel after these nights with you never came.

༻━━━━༺❀༻━━━━༺

You: Don’t come back

Your thumb hovered over the arrow send button, your eyes blurry with tears as you thought of the possibility of you two…

[vodika-vibes]

Im having nothing but angst Fox thoughts today, so could you do some GN hurt comfort headcannons(or story or drabbel whatever you prefer) where his partner takes care of him?

My boy needs to be comforted so bad :(

Here For You

Summary:  Two weeks ago, Fox disappeared when he was on patrol. Two hours ago, Thorn contacted you saying that they found Fox and they’re bringing him to you. You’re not so sure why they’re not bringing him to a medical facility, but you’ll accept it. You don’t mind taking care of your Fox, after all.

Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader

Word Count: 336 (A bit longer than a drabble)

Warnings: None

A/N: So, I feel better today than I did yesterday, save for the raging headache that comes from the temprature dropping from a high of almost 70 to a high of not even 50.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Fox has dark circles under his eyes, darker than usual. He’s covered in bruises and shallow cuts, though it looks like his more severe injuries were treated with bacta before Thorn dropped him off at your apartment. 

You’re still not sure why he’s here rather than at the Corrie Infirmary, but you don’t mind. Fox is your boyfriend, and you don’t mind taking care of him.

After all, he takes care of you all the time.

“How about,” You start as you crouch at his feet, “I run you a bath and we get you cleaned up, and then I make you something to eat?”

“You don’t have to go that far,” Fox replies, his voice so tired that you can’t help but to wrap your arms around him to pull him into a gentle hug.

“Of course I do,” You reply as you lightly card your fingers through his curls, “You do so much for me, won’t you let me do the same for you?”

He leans into your touch, his forehead pressing against your stomach as you curl your arm around him.

“...you really don’t mind?”

“How could I? It’s you.”

He sighs, and his arms hook around your waist, “Can you make some pasta?” Fox asks.

“Whatever you want, love.” You work your fingers through a knot in his hair, “Bath first. Do you want my help?”

“I don’t need it.” 

You brush your thumb across his cheek, “That wasn’t my question, Foxy.”

A wry smile crosses his face, “I would like your help, cyare. Please.”

“You got it.” You drop a light kiss to the top of his head, and then release him, “Let me run you your bath, I’ll be right back.”

Fox tightens his arms around you, not wanting to let you go just yet. “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh, Fox. I love you too.” You drop one more kiss to the top of his head, and then wiggle out of his tight embrace, “I’ll be right back.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

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@cdblake1565

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@silly-starfish

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@rebell-ious

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hey 💕

I just found your page, and it's so good, like literally, omg 🥰🥰🥰

Can I get a frost bite with Mattheo. I guess a fake dating trope or friends to lovers, like they started feeling something for each other, and it brought some tension in their not public relations (like they were friends or something before that). And Mattheo came to the reader's dorm, and the reader like "You can't just keep doing that." (55). They talked, and here came "What would you do if I kissed you right now?" (80)

BTW, these phrases are so good and cute. I just want a million drabbles with all the variations of them, like girlll 😥🥺❤️

OMG, hiiiii! 💕 Thank you so much for the kind words, you absolute angel!

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ MATTHEO RIDDLE #55: "You can’t just keep doing that." "Doing what?" "Looking at me like… that." #80: "What would you do if I kissed you right now?" "Only one way to find out."

Mattheo leaned against the doorframe of your dorm like he owned the place. His tie hung loose around his neck, his shirt half untucked, hair tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it nervously. And Merlin, you hated how unfairly good he looked doing nothing.

You crossed your arms, your voice sharp to mask the swirling chaos inside. "You can’t just keep doing that."

He raised a brow, smirking. “Doing what?”

“Looking at me like…” You gestured vaguely, avoiding his eyes. “That.”

He took a step closer, his smirk softening into something deeper, something real. “Like what? Like I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else?”

Your breath caught, and you backed up until you bumped against the edge of your bed. He followed, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “Like you’re all I can think about, even when I shouldn’t?”

“Mattheo,” you whispered, unsure if it was a plea or a warning.

“What?” His voice was quiet now, the teasing completely gone. He was close, too close, and yet not close enough. “You’re the one who started this, remember? The fake dates, the hand-holding, the stolen glances at dinner.”

Your heart pounded as he leaned down, so close you could feel his breath. “It wasn’t supposed to feel like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be pretend.”

“It was supposed to be,” he agreed softly, his gaze dropping to your lips. “But it’s not. Not for me.”

You were trembling, your hands clutching the edge of your bed as if it could steady you. "What would you do if I kissed you right now?"

His smile returned, cocky but laced with nerves, his voice dropping into a whisper. "Only one way to find out."

And then his lips were on yours, soft yet insistent, his hands cradling your face like you might disappear. It wasn’t fireworks; it was a firestorm, consuming and undeniable, and you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you could only manage a single thought. "You’re the worst at fake dating, Riddle."

"Guess we’ll have to practice the real thing," he replied with a grin that made your knees weak.