#I love them too much......................

[shatterthefragments]

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH FOR YOU!!!

At first it was money (fuck knows my parents would never buy me anything like that and it would be. A bit of a coin toss if they’d allow it even now given mum’s “oh so you’re a punk then???” On the few pieces I have picked up that make me happy :) like the old II jacket and the TOG tour jacket and some other things)

And now it’s both prioritizing other things (both money and time to build wise) and sensory issues. I’ve built. Mostly a closet of comfort by now. And yeah, sometimes textures I’m ok with are unpredictably just. Intolerable sometimes. But for the most part I’m. Okay with it.

I’m wistful.

But i can sometimes incorporate new things (while i do not search it specifically if its meant to be i shall one day encounter a denim or leather jacket to customize :)) and that makes me super happy when i can! (Im excited for the Hesta halter to arrive at some point!) and then most of the time im either in my work uniform or essentially PJs 🤷🏻

Like i ADORE having dangly stuff and chains. But. Practically: it’s a nightmare to have too much stuff hanging off me. I prefer stuffing my pockets tbh.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[darkbluekies]

Christmas tendencies

Yandere!king x fem!reader

Summary: spending Christmas with Edmund can't go wrong<3 can it?

Warnings: Edmund not being nice, in fact being quite naughty, jealousy

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: i thought it'd be a waste to not post this when it was so near completion! So please enjoy and have a merry Christmas if you do celebrate it♡

As if on purpose, the snow has graced the earth for Christmas after not showing itself for the entirety of december. But now, a thick layer of snow covers everything that was once dead and grey. You can’t help but feel excitement. Maybe Christmas with Edmund won’t be hell after all? 

You’re standing in one of the gigantic windows, looking out over the castle grounds—the very same you’re not allowed out in. The castle’s gardeners have decorated every bush, every tree, with lights and decorations. 

“You’ve been standing here for a good forty five minutes now, my jewel”, Edmund says as he walks over to you, fixing his golden cufflinks. “How much more interesting can it get after ten?” 

“You don’t get it”, you reply over your shoulder. “The gardeners have spent a lot of time decorating the grounds, shouldn’t one get to admire their hard work?”

You feel how Edmund comes up behind you, sneaks his arms around your waist and buries his chin into your shoulder. 

“The staff has put a great detail into the interior too”, he mumbles. “Why don’t you stare at that for an hour or two?”

You scoff. 

“I think it’s pretty”, you reply and turn your eyes out the window again. “With the snow and everything. Besides, I’ve already inspected every decoration inside, I helped hang them up.”

“You did, and it’s very pretty. Just like you. I like your dress.”

It’s a red velvet dress reaching down to the floor with long, cape sleeves. 

You turn around to get a look at him. He's wearing a black suit with loose white pieces that puff out. Golden cufflinks and a white bow. His fluffy dark hair has been brushed back, face newly shaven—although there never was anything to shave to begin with.

“You look like you've been tortured”, you joke.

“Haha, funny”, he replies sarcastically, clearly not impressed. “I've told them time and time again that I have an extremely sensitive scalp but no one listens, they force me to do silly hairstyles like this. I think I must have lost at least half of my hair.”

You reach to fix a strand of hair that escaped his hairstyle. You can feel him shudder under your fingertips.

“You’ll live”, you say. “Besides, you look more grown this way.”

“Do I?” Edmund smirks proudly. “Do I look manly?”

“Don’t push it.”

He scoffs. 

Weirdly enough, Edmund has agreed on letting you out of the castle today. Just because it's a special day. The townsfolk are having a market that you have begged to visit and who is Edmund to deny your Christmas wish?

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks and takes your hand. “The carriage it out on the front yard. Let’s get this over with.”

“Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” you ask with a sad pout. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding. 

“I’ll have to take a long, scolding bath right after coming back”, he mutters. “Who knows what kind of diseases they can carry? Oh, you’re taking that bath with me, by the way. My Christmas wish.”

He’s like a child when it comes to your bare body, getting eyes wide as moons when he gets to see the most vulnerable parts of you. It confuses you. In his past he has allowed himself to a majority of women and their bodies, so why does he look at you as if he’s never seen it before? 

It’s one of the few times you see him without his cocky exterior. He looks at you with eyes of gratitude, as if showing yourself to him is the greatest gift of mankind. 

Edmund holds your hand tightly as you walk out to the royal carriage. The driver holds the door open for you, but Edmund insists on helping you up in it. He sits down in front of you. The carriage is decorated with golden details and small cherubs.

“You don’t have to look like you’re being driven to your execution”, you say and raise your eyebrows. 

“I’m not happy about this”, he says. “This is something you want.”

“Can’t you be happy for me, then? Please, Eddie?”

His cheeks take on a red tone. The nickname has only been used by you, ever. You gave it to him, you’re the only one that is allowed to say it. The firs time you had said it, he hadn’t known how to react. He had been staring at you with large eyes, wondering what prompted you to give him a nickname when no one else had ever imagined to do such a thing. At first, he was unsure what he thought of the name. He was king Edmund. Had once been prince Edmund. Rarely Edmund. Never Eddie. 

“Fine”, he says and clears his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ll try. But don’t call me that when we’re there.”

“Are you scared that the townsfolk will lose respect for you if they hear that you have a cute, little nickname?” you giggle. 

Edmund rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. 

“No”, he says, smirking devilishly. “Because I don’t want other people to know what you call out in bed.”

Your jaw hangs open in shock and you grab the pillow behind your back, hitting him. Edmund covers himself with his arms, laughing. 

“Watch the hair!” he shouts. 

“You didn’t like the hair anyway”, you remind him. 

“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to be nice. Don’t be naughty!”

“Naughty? Who the hell started talking about naughty stuff? You started it!”

Edmund laughed. His blue eyes glittered. 

The carriage rolls into the town. You turn your eyes out the window to look at what you’ve been watching from afar. You get out together, Edmund holding onto you so that you don’t fall. The townsfolk keep a distance, knowing that the knights will go to attack if they come to close. Their bright eyes watch on as if they’ve seen something extraordinary. And maybe, you think, for them this is something extraordinary. 

Their eyes follow you to the christmas market. 

“All eyes are making me shy”, you whisper to Edmund. 

“Drink it all in, darling”, Edmund replies quietly. “They worship you, but not as much as I do … and if they try I’m going to kill them.”

“Be quiet!” you hiss. 

Edmund scoffs and rubs your back with his hand. You walk through the streets to the town’s square where multiple small sheds are put up, full of candy, baked bread, knitted goods and alcohol. While you walk around chit-chatting with the vendors, Edmund stands close behind you, a hand on you always. A warning, to everyone around you. You are his, and no one is going to forget that—absolutely not you. 

You buy something from every stand and insist of carrying it yourself. Edmund can’t understand why you want such … cheap crap. He can give you the same things but done well, made by professionals who cost him a fortune. He doesn’t let you eat anything and keeps a constant, watchful eyes around. 

“Smile a bit more, why don’t you?” he mutters in your ear. 

His jealousy is like a wildfire, spreading through him quickly and dangerously. With no easy way to stop it. 

“Edmund”, you whisper quietly. “Stop it.”

“You bought so much from that man”, he continued. “What did you hope to achieve?”

“Edmund!”

He stays silent the rest of the Christmas market. As soon as you get back to the carriage, he can’t keep quiet anymore. 

“Those are so fucking ugly”, says as the door to the carriage closes. 

“That is so unnecessarily mean”, you hiss back at him. “They don’t have what you have. They do their best. And, for having as little as they do, I think they look great.”

You hold your new treasures in your lap closely. 

“I don’t want to spend more time with you if you’re going to be like this”, you mumble without looking at him. 

You’re happy for your new things. But he doesn’t understand. Edmund sighs heavily, clenches his jaw and nods. 

“Okay”, he mutters and takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry … but I could have given you so much better things. If you wanted new mittens, I could have given you them. These things … who knows what could actually be in them?”

You put on the hand knitted mittens. 

“Take them off”, Edmund says, but he doesn’t sound angry or demanding like before. “Darling, my jewel, I’m serious. I don’t want you getting a rash, or something.”

“We’re taking a bath when we get back, don’t we?”

Edmund sighs and gives up. You hold up your hands.

“Aren’t they kind of cute?” you ask. “A little?”

“Fuck no.”

“What if I had made them?”

“You wouldn’t have. If you had knitted mittens, they’d be a thousand times better.”

“You are so mean.” You keep your eyes on your hands. “You were jealous out there too.”

“Of them? Of those filthy peasants?”

“Of those men.”

Edmund leans back in his seat, jaw tightening. 

“Men”, he scoffs and turns his head towards the window. “I wouldn’t call them ‘men’.”

“Childish jealousy doesn’t look good on a king”, you point out.

“You like it when I’m childish though. You laugh, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You don’t need to be jealous over them. I don’t know them.”

“Everyone wants you. And it makes me sick.”

“Everyone wants you too.”

“They want to be me. But they want you. And I will never let that happen. You are mine.”

“I know. You’re the last person to let me forget that.”

When you get back to the castle, the two of you walk straight to the bathroom where the maids have poured a hot bubble bath that is burning to the touch. Edmund holds you close to him in his arms. 

The rest of the day is spent in the big living room, in front of the gigantic christmas tree that needed a dozen workers to decorate. Edmund wanted the entire town to be able to see the lights from his tree. 

“Merry Christmas, my love”, he says and holds out a red box.

You remove the wrapping smd open the box, finding a necklace with large, round pearls. It's heavy in your hands, and even heavier around your neck.

“These pears cost me quite a lot”, Edmund says and touches the pearls carefully. “But they're cheap in comparison to what my love for you is worth.”

And he means it. He really does.

[prisonhannibal]

In Norway we celebrate christmas eve more than christmas day, so today is christmas for me. I’m writing this before our christmas dinner. I want to say it has been a good but tough year, and today I’m thinking of my friends in Gaza. It has been an honor and a gift to be allowed to help and be in contact with them, but terrifying to hear their stories and know how much danger they face every day. For the new year, I wish them safety and peace, and I hope that whatever holiday you celebrate, you can be willing to help them this year. That is my wish

I’m sharing their fundraiser again in the hopes that you can show them some love and support

Nader @abdalsalam1990, my friend who i’ve known the longest, a 17 year old who campaigns daily to save his family including his father who is sick with cancer and his 1 year old niece. His strength, kindness and hard work to provide for his family impresses me every day. (Vetted #4)

Ibrahim @wolf-aid A 15 year old boy with hopes and dreams of continuing his education, but now has to struggle to survive every day so that he can get his family to safety and achieve his dreams (Vetted #25)

Ahed @ahedfamily A 33 year old father of three young daughters under ten, who loves his daughters so much and spends all his time trying to get them to safety and get his daughter medical treatment she needs. He has a kind heart and helps other people, even when he needs help so badly too (Vetted #229)

Ghada @ghadaanqar A 32 year old man with a bachelors degree and a great job and a promising future, whose career was taken from him by the bombings. He provides for many other people, despite this. (Vetted #6)

Hani @haniyassersposts Hani is a young palestinian with a degree in social work and dreams of helping others and making a difference in his community. He has always shown me kindness and hope, even in his horrible circumstances. (Vetted #5)

I hope you will share this post and donate to help them, they really need and deserve help

[clockwayswrites]

Distracting Birb! Part 28

*throws this and runs* Masterpost

“So what did you find out?” Tim asked as he spun around. He was at the computer, of course, and looked most of the way to villainy backlit by the large screens.

(Dick loved his little brother, but villainy really wouldn’t be the most surprising outcome for Tim.)

“What makes you think we found anything?” Jason answered, just to be impertinent.

Tim rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have called us all down to the Cave if you didn’t have anything.”

Jason scoffed. “You underestimate how willing I am to waste your time.”

“Boys,” Cass said calmly, ending the growing argument with just that word.

“Duke still out on patrol?” Dick asked as a distraction.

Tim glanced over his shoulder and back at the screen. “On his way back. He’ll be here in fifteenish.”

Best not to wait in case Danny woke, Dick decided. They’d be sure to fill him in. “Okay. Well, Danny was not lying, he has a lot of plants.”

“Dick managed to turn on the watering system. We’re all very proud of him,” Jason said flatly.

The siblings all golf clapped, which Dick took a dramatic bow to. “Thank you, thank you. Otherwise a pretty normal apartment. Comfortable, a little nerdy, and not fussy.”

Jason nodded. “There’s a hero—not sure if someone real or fictional—that we saw a few times. Someone called Phantom.”

Obliging, Dick sent the photo of the mug from the bathroom up onto one of the screens. Tim spun back to the computer and started searching.

“There were also a lot of medication in his cabinet; vitamins and several prescriptions also. Some of them had weird labels.”

“Damn, Dick, you couldn’t have gotten a clearer photo?” Tim asked as he squinted at the new set of images.

“As much as I hate to defend Dick,” Jason said as he added photos of his own to the screen, ‘that is a clear photo. Danny was writing in the same language along with English in a bedside notebook of his.”

“Are you in need of glasses, Drake?” Damian asked as he looked from the photos to Tim with a judgmental brow raised.

Tim flicked him off, which Dick considered telling Tim off for (Damian had enough bad habits), but was actually curious about this. “No. The text looks glitched out.’

“No,” Damian said slowly and with a scowl, “it is clear. Odd, but clear.”

“Cass?” Dick asked.

She moved a step closer to the television, head tilted. There was a long, quiet moment before she lifted her hand a gave a so-so motion.

Tim looked from her, to Damian, to the screens. “…Dick?”

“So that’s the thing, it looks wrong to me too. If I look at it too long it’s like it gives me a headache. Jason can read it though.”

Jason snorted. “That’s taking it a bit far. I feel like I should be able to read it. I can get a word here or there maybe.”

“Like it whispers,” Damian said, the quiet words oddly poetic for the youngest of them.

“…yeah, like it whispers,” Jason agreed, just as softly.

“Right, okay. Freaky language that only some of us can even see, much less read, and those who can have spent a lot of time in or around the league,” Tim said. “How concerned do we need to be able this? To we need to be concerned about this? I feel like we need to be concerned about this.”

None of them had an easy answer for Tim.

All of them were grateful for the roar of Duke’s bike interrupting the conversation as he pulled into the cave.

“What are you all looking some grim about?” Duke asked. He yanked his helmet off and took a deep breath, like he hadn’t been able to breath in hours.

It was a feeling they all got. Even a good patrol was draining and Duke had been actively on follow up over what had gone down today with the Mad Hatter. Dick tossed a towel Duke’s way and went to grab a drink for the other from the food safe fridge.

“Stuff from Danny’s place. Take a look at the screen,” Jason said.

“Danny? I thought that we liked the guy,” Duke said, accepting the drink with a grateful thank you. He drained half of it his the way to the screens. “Shit, that’s a lot of meds.”

“Take a closer look,” Jason said, though not unkindly.

Duke stepped closer to the screen.

And went alarmingly still.

Dick resisted the instinctual urge to reach out and grab him. “Duke?”

Duke gave an answering hum and turned his head, just slightly, towards Dick. His eyes never left the screen. Dick wasn’t sure if Duke had really heard him. It was Jason who ended up acting, ended up listening to that instinct. He stepped between Duke and the screen, blocking their newest brother’s view. Duke sucked in a sharp, startled breath.

“What?”

“Hey, come on, have a seat,” Jason said and guided Duke backwards into one of the chairs at the table.

Tim swiftly cleared the photos from the screen.

Duke shook his head. “Sorry, man, I don’t know what… that, huh. What did those look like to you all?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with different levels of medication in them,” Tim replied calmly. “Dick and I can’t read what’s printed on them. Damian, Jason, and maybe Cass can a little which means it might be League writing of some sort.”

Dick leaned against the table. “What did you see, Duke?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with something in them. Like whatever it was my powers were weird about it. I’d have to see them in person to know anything about why, I guess, but they were… I don’t know. But whatever that stuff was I don’t think it’s League because I don’t think it’s human. I don’t think it’s earthly.”

“Well, fuck,” Dick said with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

[xinganhao]

🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader. (5)

catch you when i can series masterlist ★ vernon x rockstar!reader who’s a foreigner in an international rock band 📼 part five, a.k.a the one where a choice has to be made

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, angst, best read in order + headcanons & addtl. content under the cut. final part. ♫ part one | part two | part three | part four. ✉︎ dedicating this to vernon!rockstar anon, forever n always. ♡

🎧 suggested/accompanying listening for while you read. without further ado.

🎧 — “it's a sunday night, a night never to be trusted for emotions. so, a lot of you guys are gonna head home and either receive texts in the dead of night, or actually compose them that are not going to be fully representative of how you feel for the rest of the day, for the rest of your week.”

This is what the press know:

Six months after the two of you went public, you and Vernon made the mutual decision to end your five-year relationship. While you both remain mum on the reason behind the breakup, insider sources claim that the pressures of a high-profile, public relationship got to you both. The two of you are committed to remain good friends despite the split.

Only one out of those three 'facts' are true.

This is what the fans know:

Vernon is Mr. Perfectly Fine. There are moments where the façade slips, like when his breakup is brought up during a fansign, or somebody asks about it on Weverse. But, for the most part, he does his job and he does it well. He performs. He produces. He looks like the breakup hasn't affected him at all.

That Vernon can still function is true. That he's unaffected isn't.

This is what you know:

Vernon will be better off without you. A long-distance relationship was never going to be easy. Add in the factor of coming from two vastly different entertainment industries? Yeah, the two of you would have never worked out. You're doing more harm than good. Breaking up with Vernon is the kindest thing you can do to him. He'll get over you eventually.

You are wrong on all accounts.

This is what Vernon knows:

He loves you. Plain and simple.

He wants you. He can't remember a time where he hadn't; he can't imagine a time where he won't.

He will let you leave, let you walk away, if you think that's what's necessary. But he refuses to think that it's right. That it's fair.

In a perfect world— or at least a world that's just a little bit nicer to the both of you— he would get to keep you.

That much is true.

🎧 — “your friends, and your brain, and your morals, and your conscience have all trained you not to respond. but i'm gonna go against the grain and i'm going to suggest that the next time you get a message from the one you love, the only person in the world you love and can't talk to, that you respond.”

11203km • 17m ♫ John Mayer - Edge of Desire

11203km [🎸] welcome back. Liked by 11203km

11203km never left. — 🐻‍❄️

🎧 — “life is just too short to keep playing the game. 'cause if you really want somebody, you'll figure it out later. if you love someone, don't say a word. just come over.”

[FIN.]

[beloveds-embrace]

Okay what if (and stop me if I'm wrong here I'm new to A/B/O) the guys see someone flirting with the designation-less reader and they start subtly start marking them with pheromones to tell everyone else to back off?

I love this idea so much ugh 😩 scenting in the omegaverse always makes me so jdjsjen and no worries! Nothing about what you said is wrong and welcome to the blessed cursed space that is a/b/o

Original post

It started with Price and Ghost stepping into the armory.

You hadn’t noticed them at first, too focused on trying to edge away from the overly friendly Alpha soldier who just wouldn’t take the hint, no matter how disinterested you made sure you looked. He was leaning in closer than necessary, voice dropping lower with each word like he was trying to make the conversation feel more personal. Though your nose picked nothing, you just knew he was probably, likely, drowning the area with his stench.

You didn’t know how to stop it without making a scene. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong- just too many compliments, too much interest in your plans after hours, too much weight in the way he said your name. It left you off balance, unsure if you were imagining the tension curling low in your stomach. Unpleasant tension, as if youmd accidentally eaten spoiled food.

These days, it seemed as if you either garnered no attention, and when you did, it was unwelcome attention. At least it was different and far more pleasant with the 141.

“So, love, I was wondering-“

Then Price cleared his throat.

It wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a gunshot, sharp and commanding. Both you and the soldier froze, heads snapping toward the sound, and there he was- Captain Price, standing in the doorway like he owned the entire building, eyes locked right on the man in front of you.

Ghost was just behind him, silent and still as a shadow, but the weight of him filled the room like a second presence- dark, heavy, watching, shoulders tense like Price. You’ve been with them long enough to tell when they are angry based on body cues, and right now, that’s what they were.

Not for the first time, you wondered just what they’d smell like. Would it be heavy and harsh on your nose? Somehow, you doubted it. Then again, Soap did tell you that angry Alphas smell like burnt rubber most of the time.

You eyed the way your… admirer’s nose wrinkled, jaw tight, eyes shifting around.

You hoped it smelled worse.

The soldier stumbled over a few words before making an excuse to leave. He didn’t even try to finish the conversation- rude- and barely managed to keep his composure as he slipped out the door.

Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders relaxed slightly as you turned to thank them- but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way they were now looking at you.

It wasn’t anger, exactly. It was something… sharper. Something that made your pulse quicken and your palms feel clammy, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong.

But then Price strode towards you and nodded, low and firm, clasping a hand on your shoulder, and Ghost lingered just long enough to brush his shoulder against yours before following him out the door.

… weird Alphas.

��Weird Alphas.” You said outloud as well, huffing.

You thought that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

It was subtle, so subtle that you almost didn’t notice at first.

Soap was the easiest to miss, playful and touchy by nature so much so even one as people-averse as you were comfortable next to him by now. He slung an arm over your shoulders whenever you were nearby, leaning into your space like it was nothing. He’d linger there just long enough that your skin was warm before pulling away, flashing you a knowing grin you didn’t understand.

Gaz was more deliberate. He’d pass you things- gear, water bottles, paperwork, pens- and his fingers always brushed yours and lingered. Small steady touches, leaving traces of his warmth on everything he handed you, leaving traces of his warmth on your skin. When you worked together, he’d lean in close enough that his presence settled over you, wrapping around your skin like a second layer. Your shoulders and thighs would touch, and sometimes you swore you could feel a deep purr coming from him.

Price didn’t touch you often, but when he did, it lingered and was acutely felt. A hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowded hallway. A warm palm resting against your shoulder during debriefings, right where your faulty scent glands are. Solid, steady touches that felt heavier than they should’ve- clearly intentional even to the likes of you, and yet you didn’t want to really, truly acknowledge them.

And Ghost- Ghost was the worst.

He didn’t say a single word when he draped his jacket over your shoulders after a long, rain-soaked training session, the heavy fabric still warm from his body and shielding you from the wafting chill. You’d tried to give it back later, but he pushed it into your hands with a low, demanding “Keep it.” That left no room for argument. You didn’t think much of it at first- just a practical gesture- but you caught the way the others looked at you after, the raised brows and faint smirks that made you second-guess what it really meant, especially when you found yourself wearing it long after the cold had faded. You’d tried wearing your own jacket, but the look he gave you had you sighing, leaving, and returning to wearing his.

You didn’t understand it at first, didn’t recognize it for what it was. But others did.

It was possessive. Territorial.

The stares started- quick, assessing glances from the other soldiers that led to widened eyes. People moved out of your way in the hallways, gave you more space than before. Conversations shifted when you walked into a room, voices dropping, eyes darting toward the men who always seemed to hover just behind you.

You didn’t know what to make of it.

And then Soap grinned at you over lunch one day where you wearing a shirt of John’s now and Ghost’s jacket, leaning close enough to bump his shoulder against yours, and said, “Looking good, bonnie. Don’t think anyone’s stupid enough to try sniffin’ around you now.”

It took you a second too long to process what he’d said. When you finally did, your eyes darted toward the others- toward Price, who didn’t even look up from his plate, and Gaz, who only smirked and in your shock, slipped the bracelet he was wearing on your wrist. Toward Ghost, who met your gaze with something dark and unreadable before leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t affected at all. No; he was satisfied, like a smug bear.

You swallowed.

It should’ve felt suffocating, overwhelming, but it didn’t.

It felt… safe. Secure in a way you didn’t know how to explain. The guy that had been bothering you had even requested a transfer.

You didn’t say anything, didn’t call them out on it.

But later, when Price pulled you in his face and rubbed his face, his chin and beard all across your neck, you didn’t move away.

The “good girl” you got was all you could think about hours later.

[rebelssvy]

hot and cold

*ೃ༄

bakugo x reader ༊*·˚

summary: this is headcannons on how he fucks you. he wakes you up to fuck bakugo lovin on you sex and him pounding you sex, DUALITY. smut just pure smut.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

hot

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

his love could be so passionate. him coming home from a mission and finiding himself wrapped around you. his arms embracing you with care, trying not to squeeze you to hard.

after hugging you he would mumble to you about how much he missed you. before kissing you softly on your lips. you would giggle when he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared room.

throwing you onto your bed you laughed when he fell on top of you. he kissed at your skin. nipping at the sensitive parts.

his body grew hot at the sound of your moans. quiet enough just for him to hear. bakugo took pride in pleasing you. sometimes he would forget all about his want, and focus on you entirely.

kissing your lips before he crawled above you. taking of your clothes while kissing different parts of your body. the room was filled with your laughs, shouting at him to hurry up. it wasn’t long before you forced him onto his back, practically tackling him.

stripping him of his clothing while giggling. he looked at you with such admiration. you were his girl.

your sex was soft on days like this. taking his cock from his hand and giving it a couple pumps. before you pushed him into you. you gasped at his girth.

still on top of him you grinded into him. fucking yourself with his cock. his hands graved at your body, never staying in one place too long.

eventually his back moved to now rest against your head board, a perfect place for him to take your nipples into his mouth. sucking at your tits.

you moaned out his name, coming close to your finish.

he knew you too well.

instantly his hand found your clit. rubbing circles into the nerves. he noticed how your body lunged forward, smirking at you.

you shook with your orgasm. riding it out on top of him. fucking his cock into you with a dragged out pace.

as soon as you finished cumming around him, he hopped off your bed and started a bath. after he picked you up and took a bath with you.

skin to skin.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

cold

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

waking you up from your sleep, you found your boyfriend deranged. the smell of charcoal and smoke filling your senses.

you two had talked about this before, how you would rather be shaken awake to please eachother then them get off without you.

so here you were, getting pounded from behind after getting woke up to his fingers inside you. you could tell something upset him from the way he hasn’t said a word to you yet. his groans and growls were enough for you to understand.

his cock plunging its way in and out of you. wet noises filled the room, sounds of his balls smacking your clit.

he forced your back into a breath-taking arch. the position fucking his cock deeper into you. you felt him in your stomach.

every time you moaned his name his hips faltered, hesitant with his weight. not ever does he stop fucking you.

glancing over to your ripped clothes. heat pooled inside you. you knew he would buy you a new set later so you really didn’t mind. it was just so hot that he was so desperate to be inside you.

your pussy clenched around him at the thought. you listened to his air get sucked out of him. gasping behind you. his hand grabbed at the fat of you ass, before smacking your butt. leaving red marks on your skin.

the attention you needed to cum around him. he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, slapping your ass. he said his first words to you, “you fucking like that, baby? you like when i fuck you like my slut..?” he spat out.

your brain went fuzzy. pulling his cock into you further. you couldn’t think up a single thought. moaning at his words you spasmed more.

it wasn’t long till he came inside you, fucking his cum into you. leaving him utterly exhausted.

you two fell asleep cock warming with his cum oozing out of you.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i was just thinking about cannon and fanon baku and came up with this ᵔᴗᵔ

[gojoest]

having satoru and your little daughter bring you breakfast in bed (they left a huge mess in the kitchen) and childishly arguing over your head on who should be the first to kiss you and wake you up 🥹

“papa should be the one, it’s only fair since mama belongs to papa”, satoru whispers, childishly trying to prove a point.

“you kiss mama all the time”, your little one pouts. “it should be me at least this once”

“look, kiddo”, he furrows his brows. “you can’t steal mama’s first kiss of the day”

“i am sure you kissed her already, so that wouldn’t be her first kiss of the day”

which was true. satoru did kiss you softly on the shoulder and then he kissed your hair before leaving the bed earlier this morning.

“hey, that doesn’t count. she was still sleeping”

“and she is still sleeping right now”

“but the intention of the kiss is different, you see — it’s supposed to wake her up”

“papa, you can’t keep mama all to yourself, that’s pretty selfish of you”

“can’t help it, papa just loves mama too much”, satoru sighs. resting his cheek against his palm, he looks at you affectionately.

and so does your little one. “but i love mama too”

they both pout, neither of them willing to back down.

after a while of serious negotiations, they finally reach an agreement.

“okay, let’s just kiss her at the same time then — you take this cheek, and i’ll take the other”, satoru suggests while pointing at your face.

the little one nods.

“alright, we go at 3, 2, 1…”, satoru counts down.

*peck*

and then another, and another, and a fourth one — until you open your eyes and squish their faces against your cheeks.

this happens quite often, especially when satoru has the day off and the three of you sleep in in the mornings. every time you find it really hard to hold back your laughter while pretending to be asleep until their little, adorable fight over you ends in a mutual agreement. they never tire of this, and neither do you.

but as much as you love them, the scolding is inevitable after you witness the chaos they made of the kitchen.

“mama can be very scary, huh”, satoru whispers while scrubbing the dishes over the sink.

your daughter nods as she dries the washed plates with a towel. “i thought she’d let it slide this time…”

[rmview]

when you’re just too cute, ATEEZ.

featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — headcanons of what the ateez boys are like when you’re just too darn cute for words!

contents — fluff, cute aggression, no warnings.

hong ♥ joong

⟶ tries to play it cool but ends up stuttering whenever you do something adorable. ⟶ covers his face with his hands to hide his smile and mutters, “stop, you’re too much.” ⟶ pulls out his phone to record you, pretending it’s for memories but secretly watches the videos later. ⟶ uses your cuteness as inspiration for lyrics, often scribbling down phrases like, “you make my heart skip a beat.” ⟶ calls you “too dangerous” jokingly because your cuteness distracts him from work. ⟶ tries to tease you to balance the power dynamic but ends up melting when you pout. ⟶ gifts you oversized clothes because he thinks you’d look even cuter in them. ⟶ regularly mutters under his breath, “how can someone be this cute?” ⟶ always gives in when you ask for something in a sweet voice or with puppy eyes. ⟶ quietly brags about you to the other members, but acts nonchalant when they tease him about it.

seong ♥ hwa

⟶ softly pinches your cheeks and coos, “how are you so cute?” ⟶ tries to remain composed but ends up giggling whenever you do something adorable. ⟶ constantly offers to carry things for you, saying, “cute people shouldn’t have to lift a finger.” ⟶ gently fixes your hair or clothing while smiling fondly at you. ⟶ buys you cute accessories or plushies that remind him of you. ⟶ holds your hand more often, just so he can admire how small and delicate it is in his. ⟶ whenever you’re being too cute, he jokingly says, “i can’t handle this,” and pretends to walk away. ⟶ talks about your cuteness as if it’s a world-changing phenomenon. ⟶ tries to teach you his “cool” expressions but melts when you fail adorably. ⟶ protectively hovers around you in public, thinking everyone else must also find you too cute.

yun ♥ ho

⟶ laughs so hard at your cuteness that he has to sit down to recover. ⟶ constantly pokes your cheeks or playfully taps your nose, saying, “boop!” ⟶ teases you about how adorable you are but gets flustered when you call him cute in return. ⟶ loves it when you match his playful energy, especially with silly poses or expressions. ⟶ challenges you to aegyo battles but declares you the winner every time. ⟶ takes a million photos of you doing cute things, claiming he needs “evidence.” ⟶ randomly hugs you tightly and says, “you’re too cute. i’m keeping you.” ⟶ tries to keep a straight face but bursts into laughter when you catch him staring. ⟶ complains jokingly, “you’re going to give me a heart attack with that cuteness.” ⟶ encourages your cute behavior, saying, “don’t ever change. it’s perfect.”

yeo ♥ sang

⟶ quietly stares at you with a small smile, occasionally muttering, “so cute.” ⟶ pretends to be unbothered but blushes furiously when you catch him staring. ⟶ gently pokes your cheeks and murmurs, “i don’t think this is fair.” ⟶ buys you matching items, like plushies or keychains, because he loves seeing you happy. ⟶ when you’re being especially cute, he hides his face in his hands, saying, “you’re killing me.” ⟶ tries to tease you, but his soft voice gives away how much he’s enjoying it. ⟶ loves watching you get excited over little things and secretly takes pictures of those moments. ⟶ often uses your cuteness as a reason to spoil you. “how could i ever say no to that face?” ⟶ gives you his hoodie, just to see how adorable you look drowning in it. ⟶ sometimes tells the members, “they’re too cute. what do i do?”

san ♥

⟶ dramatically clutches his chest and exclaims, “i’m not strong enough for this!” ⟶ squeezes you in tight hugs and says, “you’re like a teddy bear. so squishy!” ⟶ constantly tells you how adorable you are, no matter what you’re doing. ⟶ pinches your cheeks gently while giggling, “so cute, it hurts.” ⟶ acts jealous if you’re being cute with the other members, saying, “that’s my cuteness!” ⟶ shows you off to everyone, bragging about how “the cutest person in the world” is his. ⟶ whines playfully when you’re cute during serious moments. “how am I supposed to focus now?” ⟶ randomly bursts into song about how cute you are, complete with dramatic gestures. ⟶ insists on taking selfies with you every time you do something adorable. ⟶ calls you his “weakness” and dramatically pretends to faint when you do aegyo.

min ♥ gi

⟶ laughs and squeezes you to his chest uncontrollably whenever you do something cute, sometimes until tears form. ⟶ ruffles your hair constantly, calling you his “little fluff.” ⟶ teases you about how small you are compared to him but secretly adores it. ⟶ tries to mimic your cute expressions but ends up making you laugh instead. ⟶ randomly picks you up and spins you around, saying, “i can’t help it — you’re too cute!” ⟶ constantly compliments you, saying, “you’re like a real-life cartoon character.” ⟶ pretends your cuteness “annoys” him but can’t stop smiling. ⟶ buys you snacks or small gifts just to keep seeing your excited reactions. ⟶ gushes about you to his members, saying, “they’re so cute, i don’t know what to do!” ⟶ like yeosang, always gives in to your requests because, as he says, “how can i say no to that face?”

woo ♥ young

⟶ playfully scolds you for being “too cute,” saying, “this is illegal!” ⟶ mimics your cute behavior but makes it extra dramatic for laughs. ⟶ pretends to faint or clutch his heart every time you do something adorable. ⟶ constantly calls you pet names like “cutie pie” or “baby.” ⟶ shows off your cuteness to everyone, saying, “look at them! aren’t they the cutest?” ⟶ takes countless candid pictures of you and saves them in a special album. ⟶ whines jokingly when you’re cute, saying, “you’re going to ruin me!” ⟶ pulls you into playful dances just to see you smile and giggle. ⟶ teases you, “you’re lucky i love you, or i’d be jealous of how cute you are.” ⟶ admits in quieter moments, “i never thought someone could make me this soft.”

jong ♥ ho

⟶ tries to act unaffected but ends up smiling every time you’re cute. ⟶ gently pokes your cheek and says, “you’re not supposed to be this cute, you know.” ⟶ loves teasing you about your cuteness but secretly thinks it’s the best thing about you. ⟶ randomly sings for you when he’s overwhelmed by your adorableness. ⟶ pretends to be “tough,” saying, “cute things don’t work on me,” but folds instantly. ⟶ often shakes his head in disbelief and says, “what am i going to do with you?” ⟶ buys you little treats or gifts, claiming, “i couldn’t resist because it’s cute like you.” ⟶ protectively hovers around you, saying, “you’re too cute to handle the world alone.” ⟶ laughs when you try to be serious because look adorable while doing it. ⟶ although always admits, “i don’t think i’ll ever get used to how cute you are.”

notes: i’m actually against doing the same trope for multiple groups, but if this is something you guys like then i might do it for my other groups too!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Helper:Christmas

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Guppy

"I...I don't understand. What's...What's going on?"

"Just keeping holding it up," Codi whispers to Rosa, who looks like she's about to lower the tinsel that she's holding up.

"I don't get it. What's going on?"

"We're decorating the tree."

"No, I get that. But why are we holding it up in a line?"

On her other side, Leah huffs. "Because Lia's raising a kid who doesn't like mess and gets freaked out by Christmas trees. Ow! Lia!"

Lia's elbow, none too kindly, digs a bit further into Leah's ribs.

"Don't make fun of her!" She snaps, imaginary hackles raised in annoyance at Leah's dismissal before turning to Rosa to explain, much more kindly. "Guppy...She gets a bit overwhelmed about this kind of stuff and these cretins like to go overboard until the tree's a big mess. So, Guppy gets to pick the theme and then we all decorate. Leah's exaggerating."

"I'm just saying! Maybe exposure therapy will be good for her! I love her, Lia, I do. You know that. But you have to admit, this-"

Lia whips her beads at Leah in annoyance.

"Alrigh! Alright! I get it! Sorry!"

Lia's not finished though as she points to practically everyone in line in turn. "None of you are allowed to talk about that kind of stuff while y/n's in the room too, do you understand? She's sensitive and I'm not letting any of you make it worse!"

"I think they get it," Mario intervenes quickly," No one wants to make her feel bad."

Rosa's kind of glad that Mariona did. She's never seen Lia angry before. Annoyed, yes. Overtired, yes. But never angry. Not truly anyway but she's heard how protective Lia gets over you.

You're not really an oddball. You're not overwhelmingly weird either. But something that Rosa's noted is that you're very particular. She's never met a child so particular in her life. You like things done in a certain way.

You get all fidgety and anxious if you're not allowed to do things in the way you want and tend to start things over if it hasn't gone perfectly. You flick the lights on and off twice in whatever room you leave and you always knock on doors twice.

Rosa's seen you on the team bus, getting Lia to buckle and unbuckle your seatbelt twice over just before the bus sets off to whatever away match they need to get to.

You're just...

Different.

It's clear that Lia knows that too and a lot of her energy is put into making sure no one makes you think that you don't fit in.

"Alright!" Kim comes in holding your hand and from what Rosa strains to hear from Mario and Lia's conversation, this is normal too.

Kim helps you pick out the theme.

You both whisper together, Kim clearly going along with your childish wonder and happiness. She crouches down at your side as you look between Rosa and Kyra's tinsel.

Rosa's holding a red one and Kyra's holding a gold one.

Kyra wiggles it enticingly in your face but your features all scrunch up at once as you move away from Kim to take Rosa's hand and then to choose Codi and her matching green tinsel as well.

"Alright," Kim says," And what about baubles?"

"Er..." You look at the rest of the team and all the baubles they hold up to you, suddenly overwhelmed with choices.

You look at Leah's glittery baubles and shake your head.

"Not-Not glitter ones."

Then you catch sight of Lia and Mario, immediately breaking away from Kim to go crashing into them.

"Mummy!" You gasp," You bought the special beads from home!"

Wound around what looks to be an old piece of cardboard, is a long string of silver beads.

"I did," Lia says," Because our tree is too little for them this year. I thought we could use them on the Arsenal tree."

You nod, head bobbing up and down happily before you also take Mario's hand, dragging her into your little group of chosen people without even looking at the bauble in her hands.

"Nah!" Leah complains," This is so unfair! Why can't I be chosen?"

"Because you clearly didn't choose a good bauble this year," Beth teases," Not like me."

"Not Beth's bauble either," You say to Kim.

"Wait...What? Come on, come back!"

Decorating the tree is a team effort because while you may have been the one to make your selection, you're much too small to decorate it all by yourself and Rosa's found herself with you on her shoulders as you strain to put a candy cane onto the tree.

"Careful," Lia warns her," Keep straight or she'll fall."

"Rosa's doing fine," Steph says," And it's not like Guppy is going to start throwing herself around. She's very responsible."

"I am, Mummy!" You say," Very responsible! I helped Mrs Gina find the missing gluestick lid yesterday!"

So, Lia ends up worrying from a distance and insists on being the one to lift you up so you can put the star on the tree before letting you down and leading you from the room without any more preamble.

"What's happening now?" Rosa whispers as it looks like everyone starts sitting down on the floor in a little circle that she has no option but to join.

"Lia's been doing this since Guppy was born," Caitlin explains," We're getting presents now. It was pretty cute the first time, little gifts in baby y/n's hands. It was her handprint the year she was born and then it was like little keychains? She's old enough to give them out by herself now."

The present Rosa gets is kind of soft and squishy and it doesn't rattle or anything when she holds it up to her ear and shakes.

"No opening until Christmas!" You say once everything's been given out and everyone's attention is on you," Because that ruins the surprise! You can only open them on Christmas!"

The little Arsenal teddy bear you got her sits on Rosa's desk for the rest of the season.

[koalayoo]

Men who talk a certain way.

They carry themselves with elegance, talk with a poised cadence unique to them. They hold themselves upright and have an air of superiority. A cunning look, signature smirk, firm hand; these are staples of their character, they know how to strike a deal. Whether for their people or their own gain, they intimidate those to gain an advantage no matter how many exploits gone through or people exploited.

People either love or fear them.

They’re important.

It’s no surprise that they sit at the centre of the table at a meeting, commanding attention. All eyes are on them, gripping their every word. Prompt nods and murmurs of agreements follow. They’re smart too. Incredible wit and perceptiveness as they continuously glance at everyone, especially you.

Fuck, and they’re hot too.

It makes your blood run hot. Jolts shoot throughout your body and you avert your gaze. It was stupid to you to be losing your cool for a man who felt indifferent about your existence. Maybe that isn’t the right word. 

Sometimes, you would question whether he hated you. Whenever you needed a pen, your hands brushed against one another for a second and he would quickly pull back as if being stung by a bee with a slight scowl forming on his face. If the piles of paper you needed to finish took too long, he would be adamant you finish for the night, which is all fine and dandy if he wasn’t looking for help from others to complete your work. He even reprimanded you, talked to you in that familiar stern tone once for not having your priorities in place when a stranger came up to you in a flirtatious manner as if you could control that. 

He pissed you off. 

Why couldn’t he care about you like a normal person?

However, you were wrong about all of it. He cared too much.

When your fingers grazed him he was ridden with guilt, these were the same hands he would think about at night. Imagine tracing the sharp edges of his skin. He would shut his eyes and throw his head back, replacing his hands with your own. Try to commit the soft feel of yours to his. Would you go slow or fast? He wondered. How would you hold him? Would you let him make a mess? His thoughts would trail on and on questioning your grip, your face, what you would say.

So, it was no surprise when he saw you working yourself to exhaustion that he wanted you to rest. That was his duty after all. Only he could do that. The eyes that he desperately wanted to see glazed over with a lust filled haze needed to be well rested first. That way, he could slowly see them become drunk for him, turning red, bloodshot from just how well he would treat you.

And it was especially no surprise that when another person had the audacity to want you too, he had to stop them. Sure, you didn’t deserve the scolding but he would make you feel so much better later on. He just had to be patient.

Had to keep his tone steady and tame. Pretend to treat you just like everyone else. Even if you thought he hated you. He could fuck you like that too if you wanted. He would give you anything you wanted. However, you didn’t deserve to know how depraved he truly was.

There was a thought that lingered at the forefront of his mind. If you found out just how he imagined you, would you leave? He figured you might feel disgusted, a man of his caliber, his power, wanting to succumb to you. And so he continued to talk. Continued to keep his tone steady. Keep his tone tame. 

He would keep himself in line; refined. Because if you found out how he was imagining you, perhaps then this man would truly feel fear.

fantasising about...

Sylus, NEUVILLETTE, Jing Yuan, Welt, Sunday, DAN HENG, Artem, Zhongli!, Gepard, Alhaitham?, Cyno ...and anyone else you're thinking of

Hope you liked this! Inspired by the song 'Talk' by Hozier. Specifically the line, "So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you." Please give it a listen! It was in my Spotify Top 5 it's so good and captures the vibe I was trying to go for with this. Sorry for the yap. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

@paradisekissmoon if this ain't us too 🤭

I have two sides:

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

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[flemingology]

O is for the only one I see ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 2 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you and Alexia have your first communication mishap after a family meeting gone wrong

warnings: argument, miscommunication, insecure reader

wc: 7.9k

an: i hope you understand the concept lol. i think the name 'miniseries' makes it sound like it's all gonna be 1 continuous story but it's more a one-shot vibe based on a lyric each time, as i describe in the summary. nonetheless, hope you enjoy!

In the past few months, Alexia had seamlessly become a part of your every day in ways you never thought possible. From her quiet insistence on walking you to your car after late dinners to the way she texted you pictures of her travels when she was away for games, it felt... natural. Easy, even. But meeting her family? That was a whole new level, one you weren’t sure you were ready for.

The way Alexia spoke about her family never failed to fill you with warmth. The way she, her mother and her sister bonded together over the course of their lives was something you could only admire. They were pillars in her life, the people she would fall back on when everything else in her life seemed to be going south. And now, you were about to meet them. It wasn’t just nerves bubbling under the surface, it was the nagging doubt if you were going to fit in. If they would approve of you, think of you worthy enough to date their daughter.

Alexia didn’t date. Hadn’t, in a good few years. She held herself to high standards and her family knew that, so they only wanted what was best for her. Whether that’s what you were, they’d have to see. What if they don’t like you?

“You know they’re going to love you,” Alexia said, leaning against the bathroom door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, as you smoothed down your shirt for what felt like the sixth time in as many minutes. You shot her a glare. “You say that now. Wait until Alba starts grilling me like a detective.” She laughed, walking over to you and fixing your collar. She cradled your face, hands on your cheeks and pressed a reassuring, lingering kiss against your lips. “If Alba says anything, I’ll handle her. I just want you to be yourself.” You shot her a grateful smile, turning your gaze back at the mirror, taking your appearance in another time.

“Do you think this is too much? Or… not enough? I can change if you want, I have another couple options laying on the bed.” Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and some of your nerves settled at the warmth that radiated from her embrace. She pressed gentle kisses against the side of your neck, you leaning your head back against her shoulder to allow her more space. “You look perfect. My family is not expecting royalty, you know. They’re just excited to meet you.” You turned in her grasp then, tucking a couple strands of hair behind her ear. “Excited to meet me? Or excited to see if I’m good enough for you?”

Your girlfriend–– it still felt surreal to call her that, chuckled at that, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Mi vida, stop. They won’t judge you. Mami will probably try and feed you whatever she’s been cooking since this morning the second you walk through the door, and my sister will ask you a hundred questions about how we met.” You stayed silent at that, taking a moment of appreciation for the kindness and understanding that came from your lover.

“You’re overthinking. They’re going to love you. How could they not?” Alexia tilted your head back up, her eyes meeting yours. “Because I’m not… you. I don’t have the perfect career or the perfect family. What if they think I’m not good enough?”

Alexia bit her lip at that, before taking your hand and leading you back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You did, your knees on either side as you faced her again. “First of all, I’m not perfect. And second, that’s not how my family works. They don’t care about status or titles. All they care about is kindness, respect, and whether you make me happy.” The Spaniard rested her forehead against yours as she spoke.

“And do I?” “Every single day.”

As you left the bedroom together, Alexia threw another look towards you over her shoulder. “Oh, and for the record, if anyone asks you about football. The answer is always Barca.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at her words. “Noted. You’re going to owe me for this.” “Dinner with the Putellas clan is a small price to pay. Trust me.”

The apartment door clicked shut behind you, and you’re met with the cold afternoon air on a wintery Saturday in Barcelona. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around your figure, already cursing yourself for having dressed too lightly for the occasion. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the quiet neighbourhood, the orange-yellow hues bouncing off the cobblestone pavement beneath your feet. You despised Winter. Despised the cold, despised the dark mornings and dark evenings.

Alexia’s car brought you back to your senses. It’s familiar, and the way Alexia’s perfume lingers and mixes with the faint sense of leather calmed you down. The soft hum of the engine the only sound between the two of you. You couldn’t bear the silence any longer though, as if it was weighing you down with each passing minute.

“Okay, let’s set some expectations. What’s the worst thing your family could say or ask tonight?” Alexia glanced over at you, an amused smile on your face as she expertly manoeuvred the steering wheel one-handed. “Worst thing? Hmm… Mami might ask if you know how to make paella. She likes to test people on their cooking knowledge.” You scoffed nervously at her words. “Great. Let me just Google how not to butcher a classic Spanish dish before we get there.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you. “Relax. You could burn your toast and they’d still like you.” You didn’t respond at that, and that led to your girlfriend briefly squeezing your knee, and then resting her hand on your thigh. “I’m serious. You don’t have to impress anyone. Just… be yourself.” You looked out the window, looking at the passing cars. “I wish I had your confidence.” “You don’t need that. You have mine.”

The roads were quiet for the time of day, but there’s a faint hum of life outside. The city felt alive but not overwhelming. Alexia’s playlist waltzed through the background, the songs that remind you of your lover calming your senses once again. You noticed the way she taps her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, her relaxed demeanor helping you stay calm. You didn’t want to mess this up. It had been a while since Alexia had seen her family, properly, for more than a couple short moments after a game. Somehow, you hadn’t met them yet. The games you went to, they couldn’t come and vice versa. It was Alexia’s mum that insisted she brought you to the family dinner, something that on its own should’ve calmed your nerves, but the rational part of your brain was completely at the mercy of the overwhelming feeling of self-doubt.

The journey didn’t take as long as expected, traffic not nearly as bad as either of you had foreseen. Alexia’s hand was tracing soft, reassuring patterns on your thigh and your hand was on top of hers, steadling grounding yourself with her touch. Before you knew it, Alexia pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. “Oh God, I didn’t realize we were here already.” Alexia chuckled, but stayed silent for a moment. She let you come to your senses, knowing you were going to be fine, but just needed a moment to ground yourself. Your eyes searched the area, and you were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cars that were all around the house. “Baby, how many people are here tonight?” Alexia winced at that, having forgotten to mention that it was never only close family when the Putellas’s came together. She tried to remain casual, though. “Eh, maybe like 20 people? Just a small group. It’ll be okay, amor.” You mumbled something incoherently under your breath and Alexia wished it wasn’t you cursing her out, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as you opened your door and stepped outside.

“So, any final words?” You questioned, your hand resting on the doorbell, not quite ready to ring yet. “Smile. Be yourself. Don’t let mami overwhelm you with food.” You cocked your eyebrows at her. “Mhm, that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail at one of those things?” Alexia pressed a kiss against your temple, mumbling her next words against your hair. “Then you’d still look cute failing.” You rolled your eyes. “Such a charmer, Alexia. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” “Completely. But seriously, you’ve got this.” Your girlfriend took your hand in hers for a second and gave a reassuring squeeze, before she eventually rang the doorbell.

Eli’s face lit up inexplicably wide at the sight of her daughter. “Mi niña, look at you, you’re finally here.” She pulled Alexia into a tight hug first, and by Alexia’s body language, you could tell that she needed this. She practically smothered her daughter with affection, but Alexia quickly became second best the moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softening into one of pure warmth. “And you must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about!” Before you could even fully process her words, she’s wrapping you in a firm, welcoming embrace. The scent of her lavender perfume and something faintly sweet invaded your senses, and it immediately struck you as a homely feeling. Her hug lingered just long enough to feel sincere, and when she pulled back, her hands settled gently on your shoulders.

“Come in, come in! Don’t just stand out here in the cold. I’ve been so excited to meet you." Alexia watched the interaction with a fond smile, her gaze flickering between you and her mum as you stepped into the warmth of the house. It felt almost surreal. The cozy hum of voices from the living room, the inviting smell of food wafting from the kitchen. You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this; this immediate sense of belonging. You couldn’t help but glance at Alexia, a smile creeping onto your face despite your earlier nerves. She noticed, her own smile widening in response.

But as Eli ushered you both further inside, you caught a fleeting glance exchanged between Alexia and her mum. It’s quick, almost unnoticeable, but something about it tugged at the edge of your thoughts. Maybe it was the slight furrow in Eli’s brow that smoothed out too quickly, or the way Alexia’s smile dimmed just a fraction before she responded. It passed before you could think too much of it, overshadowed by Eli’s bright chatter as she guided you toward the living room. But the seed of doubt was planted, small but persistent.

The living room buzzed with warmth and chatter as Eli guided you inside. The people gathered are lively, her relatives talking over one another, kids darting around in a chaotic blur, and a general air of familiarity you can almost taste. “Come, let me introduce you,” Eli said with a bright smile, tugging you further into the room. Alexia stayed close, her hand lightly resting at your lower back, an anchor as you’re passed from one family member to the next.

First, it’s Alexia’s aunt. A lively woman with curly hair and a booming laugh, pulled you into a tight hug as though she’s known you for years. “Oh, so this is her,” she said knowingly, nudging Alexia with a grin. “You didn’t tell me how gorgeous she is.” “Tía” Alexia mumbled, her ears turning pink, but the playful reprimand only made her aunt laugh harder. “And polite, too, I bet,” the aunt added, turning to you. “Please, call me Tía Marta. Now tell me, is she as much of a neat freak at home as she was when she was a kid? She used to get mad if I folded a towel the ‘wrong way.’” Alexia groaned behind you, but you laughed, feeling a little more at ease.

Up next is Alexia’s grandmother. She was smaller than you expected, her frame delicate but her spirit vibrant. She took your hands in hers, her skin soft and warm, and looked up at you with kind, twinkling eyes. “Eres preciosa, niña,” she said softly, her voice comforting. You managed a thank you in your best Spanish, and she beamed with pride. “Her Spanish is good!” she told Alexia in Catalan, patting your hand. “Abuela,” Alexia interjected gently, translating for you with a smile. “She says you’re beautiful.” “Well, she’s beautiful too,” you responded shyly, feeling your cheeks warm under the older woman’s approving gaze.

Then suddenly, a young cousin, the boy probably no older than six, bolted toward Alexia the second he walked in, arms wide and squealing her name. Alexia catched him mid-run, spinning him around effortlessly. It struck a chord somewhere inside of you, but you weren’t ready to develop the thought yet that was simmering at the back of your mind. “Who’s this?” the little boy asked once he’s settled in Alexia’s arms, pointing at you.

“This is my... friend,” Alexia said carefully, glancing at you with a flicker of hesitation. The little boy looked at you curiously before deciding, “She’s pretty. Do you like Spiderman?” Caught off guard, you stammered, “Uh, yes? I think he’s cool.” “Good,” the cousin declared, nodding seriously. “Because I don’t like boring people.” You shared a laugh with Alexia, who shook her head fondly.

At one point a couple minutes later, an uncle, already stationed near the appetizers, offered you a small plate. “Try this,” he said, holding up a slice of jamón ibérico. “This is the best you’ll ever taste.” You accepted it, and the flavor immediately melted on your tongue. “Wow,” you exhale, impressed. He grinned, nodding approvingly. “I told you. Good taste,” he said, pointing at you before winking at Alexia. “This one’s a keeper, eh?” Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “She hasn’t even had the croquetas yet.” “Croquetas?” you asked, curious. “Just wait,” Alexia replied, her smirk confident.

Eli stole you away then, leading you with her to the sofa. “She talks about you, you know,” she said quietly, handing you a glass of wine. You blinked in surprise. “She does?” “Every time we talk,” she said with a smile, her eyes soft as they glanced toward Alexia. “You make her happy.” Your heart swelled, and you glanced at your girlfriend across the room, who was talking to her cousin again. She must’ve felt your eyes on her because she looked back, offering a small smile that’s just for you.

But then, there was a change in the air. It was not outright hostility, not even close. But as the introductions continued– they seemed endless, there was a distinct feeling in the back of your mind that you couldn’t ignore. A couple of the older relatives asked pointed questions about your work. Questions that felt almost like challenges, though they were wrapped in polite tones. “So, what do you do exactly? Must be quite demanding, no?” You answered as best as you can, without wanting to seem too affected by the unpleasant tone you’re being spoken to. 

As you were chatting with another of Alexia’s cousins, one of her aunts– not the one that welcomed you so warmly earlier, interrupted the conversation with a comment that caught you off guard. “Well, I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks dating a footballer is all glamour and fame. It’s hard work, you know.” The words are said with a faint smile, her tone almost teasing. Almost. But there’s something about the way her eyes lingered on you, as though she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. “Oh no, I wouldn’t think that at all.” You stammered, trying to laugh it off. Before you could say more, Alexia stepped in smoothly. It’s like she felt the discomfort oozing off you through the room, and she was by your side in a mere couple seconds to defuse the situation. “She’s not one of those people. Trust me.” Her aunt gave a small nod, her smile tight as she moved on to another conversation.

The exchange left you rattled, though you’re not entirely sure why. It wasn’t outright rude, but it felt like a test, one you’re not certain you passed. As the evening went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were under a microscope. Most of the family was kind and welcoming, but a few interactions left a sour taste, small enough to make you doubt whether you’re overthinking it or not.

Your mind drifted back to the glance Alexia exchanged with her mom earlier. Was it about you? Were they worried about bringing you into this tightly-knit family dynamic? You glanced at Alexia, who was across the room now, laughing with her sister. She looked completely at ease, as though she belonged in this moment in a way you could never hope to. The doubt crept in again, insidious and unwelcome. Did you really fit into her world?

The room was alive with conversation and laughter, but your thoughts felt far too loud. You were perched at the edge of the couch, smiling politely as Eli chatted animatedly with a group of relatives nearby. Alexia caught your eye from across the room, her easy smile fading when she saw the tension in your shoulders. Excusing herself from the conversation she’s in, she made her way over to you, her movements casual so as not to draw attention. She sat next to you, her hand comfortingly placed on the small of your back. “Hey, you okay?” You take a moment, hesitating on what to tell her, because the last thing you’d want is to be a burden. “Yeah, just a bit… overwhelmed”, you eventually settled on. Her hand softly brushed against your knee and it brought you a sense of comfort. “They already love you, you know.” Her words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself believe them. You nod, offering her a small smile. Thanks. I think I just need a minute to adjust.” Your girlfriend squeezed your knee and then stood up, moving back across the room to where she was before she came over to you. 

You started to relax again, letting the hum of conversations wash over you, but then you heard it; a hushed voice from somewhere nearby, just loud enough to catch your ear. “She seems nice, but do you think she’s really with Alexia for the right reasons? I mean, it must be intimidating, dating someone like her. Maybe she just likes the idea of it.” The words hit like a gut punch. You glanced around, trying to place the speaker, and your stomach sank when you saw it’s the same cousin who’d been teasing earlier. She was speaking to another relative, who nodded slightly but didn’t add anything to the comment.

“Well, she does seem a bit… out of her depth. But Alexia must see something in her.” “Yeah, but for how long? I mean, Alexia needs someone who can handle all of this. The attention, the traveling, the pressure. Do you think she’s that kind of person?”

Your pulse quickened and your fingers tightened around your glass. It felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Why were they even talking about this? Your stomach sank further with each word. You fought the urge to stand up and defend yourself, although you weren’t quite sure you’d know what to say if you did. Were you really out of your depth?

You glanced back toward Alexia, wishing she’d somehow heard the exchange, wishing you could share the burden of what had just been said. But even if she had been closer, would you have had the courage to repeat the words? The thought of telling her felt unbearable. What if she agreed, even a little? What if, instead of reassuring you, she hesitated? You tell yourself off, firmly. It was Alexia that brought you here, Alexia that wanted you here. She wouldn’t hesitate. But before you can dwell on what you heard too much, dinner is being served and you’re all called to the living room.

The dining room was warm and inviting, with a large wooden table set for everyone. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and overlapping conversations. Alexia was seated beside you, and her presence helped calm your nerves, even though the earlier comments still lingered in your mind. You tried to focus on the moment, enjoy the evening with Alexia’s family and forget about what you overheard earlier

.“So, tell us more about yourself. Alexia mentioned you work on some pretty impressive projects.” It was Eli’s voice that pulled you out of your thoughts. You were glad that everyone seemed to be in their own conversations, only a couple relatives really listening in to what you were going to answer.

“Oh, it’s nothing too special. I mostly enjoy being behind the scenes, making sure everything runs smoothly.” You worry, overthinking every word as if the people around you would be nitpicking every single thing that you said.

“Well, Alexia couldn’t stop talking about how talented you are. She doesn’t say that about just anyone, you know.” Her words made you feel a little more at ease, but the shadow of doubt from earlier lingered.

Dinner went smoothly for the rest. Conversation flowed easily between a couple of you, the steadying presence of your girlfriend aside you doing just enough to ground you. During a lighter moment, someone shared a funny story about Alexia’s childhood.

“Did you know Alexia used to practice free kicks in the yard until she knocked over the flower pots? I think my parents banned football from the garden for a year!” The family laughs, and Alexia playfully rolls her eyes, leaning in closer to you. “Don’t believe everything they tell you.”

At some point, a little further down the evening, Alexia leans in quietly, her hand brushing against yours under the table. “You okay? You’ve been a bit quiet.” she asks softly. You force a smile, one you know she won’t believe, but it’s the best you could muster up. “I’m fine. Just taking everything in.” She didn’t push, but her eyes lingered, and you knew she was onto you. But you appreciated her for not pushing.

As the meal ends and people begin to move around, Alexia finds a quiet moment with you, sensing your unease. “You’ve been amazing tonight, you know? I can see how much they like you.” You found yourself in a quiet corner in the kitchen, and you allowed yourself to circle your arms around her neck, Alexia’s resting around your waist. “You think so? It’s just… a lot to take in.” Alexia nodded, briefly brushing her lips against your forehead. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you’re doing great. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you could handle it.”

-

The silence in the car was heavy, but Alexia didn't push. She glanced at you every now and then, her brows knitting together in quiet concern at the expression on your face. She decided she could do no wrong by testing the waters. “You were amazing tonight,” she said softly. You nodded with a small smile, but it was forced. You continued staring out the window, replaying the events from the night over and over again, especially the words from one of Alexia’s aunts kept on ringing in the back of your mind.

The car ride felt uneasy. It wasn’t usual for you both to be so quiet, and it almost felt awkward. You knew you weren’t doing the right thing by not telling your girlfriend what was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You felt as if, if you would recite the words that were spoken by one of her relatives, that she’d agree. That she’d realize that they were right, that you’re out of your depth and not made for someone with a schedule like hers. So you stayed silent. As much as it hurt you to ignore Alexia’s silent advances throughout the drive, whether that be a hand on your knee or a soft touch on your thigh, you didn’t dare speak up. Not if that meant you would put your relationship at risk.

When Alexia pulled into the driveway of your apartment block, you could feel the hesitation in her movements. You unbuckled your seatbelt and she did the same, but before you could reach the door handle, you felt her hand on your wrist. “Amor, wait…,” she spoke softly. You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before leaning back against the car seat. “You did great tonight. I promise. It was everything I hoped for. I’m so glad you finally met my family and they love you. Te lo prometo.” You gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but you couldn’t help but melt in the kiss that followed. You really shouldn’t have, should’ve held your walls up, because you knew you were in for a rough night as soon as your girlfriend left. But when she kissed you with that much fervour, pouring so many unspoken words in it, you couldn’t help but be at her mercy. “Call me tomorrow?” You nodded, but you weren’t sure you would. Stepping out of her car felt like floodgates opening. The emotions hit you like a brick: insecurity, shame, and the growing belief that this relationship was a mistake.

-

You ignored Alexia’s calls the following day. You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when you felt like every new word you spoke to her would bring her closer to realizing that you weren’t enough for her. Her texts start off light, reassuring. But when she realizes that you’re not going to reply, they come with an urge.

From: Ale I hope you’re feeling better today, amor. Let me know when you’re free?

From: Ale Hey, I’m getting worried. Are you okay?

From: Ale Please talk to me. Did something happen?

You read them but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Each message felt like a dagger, reminding you of what you’re running from.

As the day dragged on, the insecurities became louder. What if you’re just another thing for her to take care of? You’re nothing compared to the people she’s surrounded with on a day-to-day basis. Her teammates, her family, they’re all… extraordinary. Alexia deserves someone who fits into her world effortlessly.  Not someone who feels like they’re constantly falling short.

You started analyzing every moment with Alexia, wondering if you’ve been blind to signs that this was doomed from the start. You were not made for this world. Not made for her. So you did the thing that you thought was best for you, best for her, you decided not to reply to anything she sent you. She’d get over it, she had so many other things on her mind that she probably wouldn’t even think twice. You’d get over it too, eventually. At some point. Probably. Maybe.

But God, were you wrong. On the other side of Barcelona, your girlfriend was miserable. She had sensed something was off since the evening before, but she didn’t want to pry, knowing that usually didn’t help her case in trying to get anything out of you. But now, as the afternoon bled into evening and she still hadn’t heard from you, prying was the only thing she wished she did. As far as she knew, things had gone quite well with her family. There wasn’t anything that she could remember that would warrant such a response from you, so she felt like her hands were tied in what to do.

She wanted nothing more than things to work out with you. She hadn’t felt like she felt about you in ages. You got her, you understood her, and she was so incredibly grateful for you. You were like a breath of fresh air in her clouded, busy life. So when she didn’t hear from you for a day, Alexia curled up into herself. She was worried, insecure, in her head and making up all kinds of scenarios that were way too obscure, but she couldn’t help thinking them anyway. What if you didn’t want her anymore after meeting her family? Was it not what you expected? Did someone tell you something about her that struck a wrong chord?

Despite the overwhelming thoughts that clouded her mind, Alexia manages to get out of her sofa that evening and try a different approach to get you back.

-

It’s well past 9pm when you receive a voicemail from Alexia, and you can’t help but listen to it. The prospect of hearing her voice was too good to turn down.

“Hola, mi vida. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but please talk to me. We’re a team, you know? You and I. Just the two of us. Let me in and we’ll work out what’s on your mind. And, check your front door for me. Te amo. So much.”

You hadn’t realized tears had welled up in your eyes at the sound of her voice, until one was rolling over your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, not ready to be vulnerable about this yet. Not when she was being so sweet. You mustered up the courage to get out of bed, walking the way up to the front door of your apartment. You checked the peephole, but nobody was there. You opened the door and spotted a bright bouquet of red and white roses on the ground, accompanied with a little envelope. Your first thought was about how Alexia had gotten into your building, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that right now. You picked up the flowers and smelled them, a faint hint of her perfume mixing with the fresh scent of the roses. It hit you hard then, another few tears escaping your eyes.

The letter that came with, was even sweeter. It wasn’t much, not a love letter by any means, but just a small couple reminders of how much she loved you. That she was proud of you. That she couldn’t wait to see you again and hear your voice. It only felt more guilt rise up in you. How could you treat this woman, who clearly loved you to the moon and back, so poorly? But the guilt wasn’t enough to overshadow the insecurities. At least, not yet. 

-

The office was dimly lit, the desk cluttered with blueprints, pencils, and a cold coffee cup that you’re not sure you even took a sip from. When things got rough, work is where you turned to in life. Work didn’t make you insecure. Work didn’t make you doubt yourself. It was always there. Steady. A pillar of strength that would never disappoint you. You weren’t the only one who knew that, though. As long as it took you to open up about your professional life to a certain blonde, she now knew everything about the ins and outs of your life as an interior architect. She too, knew that this was where you retreated when things weren’t going your way. To experience some sort of stability. To make you feel like even though everything else around you was crumbling, you still had this. The hum of the building and the outside traffic was the only sound until the door swung open abruptly, startling you.

Alexia walked in, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She looked out of place here, her casual sweater and jeans standing stark against the sterile, professional backdrop. She didn’t speak right away, just stood there, her gaze fixed on you. The silence felt suffocating. You haven’t turned around yet, but the mere presence of the person gave away who it was.

“I knew you’d be here,” she started with. “You shouldn’t have come.” You had turned around on your seat now, but were still avoiding her gaze. As much as you wanted to look at her, take her in, because you missed her, missed her more than you could put into words, you didn’t. Because then it would take approximately 3 seconds for you to give up the facade that you’d been putting on, and you weren’t ready for that. Not when you weren’t good enough for her. She stepped closer. “What else was I supposed to do, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for almost 2 days. I’ve been losing my mind wondering what I did wrong.”

There was a sense of hostility in her voice, and you didn’t like it. But, you guess you deserved it. You finally met her gaze then, and if it weren’t for the bags underneath her eyes and the concerned look on her face, you really would’ve thought she was angry at you. You stood up from your desk, taking a couple tentative steps toward her and crossing your arms over your chest. “You didn’t do anything, Alexia. This is on me.” You knew it was weak, and not good enough. But you couldn’t give her much more than that. “That’s not good enough. I deserve more than silence, don’t you think?”

Your throat is tightening, but you try your best not to let it sound in your voice. “I needed time to think.” “Time to think about what, y/n? If you even want to be with me?” You frowned then, looking up at her. You didn’t know it had cut so deep with her. It’d only been a day and a half, and you hadn't given her any clues on what this could be about, so for her to have made this assumption took you aback. It’s not what you wanted, or… maybe it was? It was best for the both of you, either way.

You decided at that moment it was best for you to open up, to relieve some of the tension for the woman standing in front of you. “I’m not good for you, Alexia. Can’t you see that? Your cousin, your family, they see it. And they’re right.” The Spaniard’s face hardens at that, her brows knitting together. ““I don’t belong in your world. I don’t know how to fit into it, and honestly, I don’t think I ever will. You deserve someone who can stand next to you without feeling like they’re constantly falling short.”

Alexia closes the distance between you, and you can feel her breath against your face as she speaks. “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You think I care what anyone else thinks? My family? My cousin? Do you think I’d be here right now, chasing after you, if I thought you weren’t good enough for me?” You interrupt her, but it’s a futile attempt. “No, you don’t understand-” “You don’t understand! I chose you! I want you! Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

It’s like someone opened up a can of bottled feelings within Alexia. You’d voiced it many times to her that you thought you weren’t good enough for her, and each time she’d patiently coaxed you back to her, melting your insecurities away with whispered promises and lingering kisses. What you didn’t know is that it had also taken an effect on her. She just wanted you to believe her, to be happy with her, to stop thinking that you weren’t what she wanted or deserved.

“Because I’m scared, Alexia! I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize they were right. That I’m just this… nobody who got lucky. That I’ll never be enough for you.” Alexia’s expression softens slightly, but her frustration remains. She runs a hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, her voice quieter but still firm. ““You’re enough for me. You’re more than enough. But I can’t keep fighting to convince you of that if you’re not willing to believe it yourself.”

The words hit you like a dagger. Of all the ways the conversation could go, you hadn’t expected that. And it only further confirmed your thoughts. Alexia was realizing that this wasn’t what she wanted. “Maybe I’m doing this for you, Alexia. Maybe you’ll thank me someday.” Alexia’s voice was sharp as she replied. “Don’t you dare make this decision for me.” You flinch, but remain silent.

She steps back then, running her hands across her face. “I don’t know what else to say to you right now.” Her eyes linger on your figure a little longer, but then she’s gone. The sound of the door falling shut feels deafening, and you finally let the tears flow that you’d been holding in throughout the conversation. Argument? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

As she storms out of the studio, the cool night air hits her like a wall. Her chest feels tight, and her hands tremble slightly as she fumbles to unlock her car. She hesitates for a moment, gripping the door handle, debating whether to turn back. But the ache in her heart makes it hard to think clearly, and she sinks into the driver’s seat, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.

She didn’t know how it could’ve escalated this quick. For her, the meeting with her family went well. Of course, there was the odd comment, but she didn’t think it was major enough to cause an upset like this. It seemed like, in one day, you’d built a wall so high that she couldn’t reach you anymore.

She bites her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but a few slip out anyway. She feels a mix of anger, heartbreak and guilt, but above all that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be feeling. She drives around aimlessly, not ready to drive home. Before long, Alexia realizes that she didn’t handle the argument in the right way. Instead of calming you down, she yelled, too lost in trying to make you see what she sees. By the time she finally gets home, she’s emotionally drained. She sits at her kitchen table, the undeniable sting from the unanswered calls and texts still there. Alexia had never felt this way about anyone, ever before in her life. And she wasn’t going to let you walk away because of some stupid comment or your own doubts. You were hers, and she was going to remind you of that even if it took everything she had.

Alexia starts her plan to get you back the next day. She comes to terms that barging into the studio again wouldn’t make it better, so she starts with something simple. She drives to your place and slides a little handwritten note under the door, a small one that says, “I love you. No matter what they say, no matter what you think. You are everything to me. Please, let me prove it. A.” She also sends flowers to your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a little note attached to it, “You’re the only one I see.” She’s patient, very patient, but when she hasn’t heard anything from you by the evening, she starts pacing around her apartment.

She had done quite well at keeping busy throughout the day. After quickly dropping off the note, she went to training and was able to keep her mind off the situation for a couple hours. But when she came home, deep in the afternoon, and she couldn’t even get her post-training nap in because she was thinking about you, she knew she wasn’t gonna get anywhere.

Her fingers hover over your contact, but the prospect of rejection makes her hesitate. She lingers, but eventually decides it’s best not to. She was gonna let you come to her. And you did. The next morning, somehow you’d remembered that today was a day off for Alexia. She was sat at the kitchen table, sipping on her daily cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. The doorbell startled her, not really expecting anyone at this time of day, especially not when she was still wearing her pajamas. But when she looks through the peephole, noticing your figure on the other side of the door, her heart skips a beat. She scrambles to unlock the door and open it for you, but when her eyes land on you it feels like all is right in the world. She has to refrain herself from throwing her into your arms, knowing that wouldn’t be the right thing to do right now. She gives you a small smile, one you return, and the warmth that spreads through her chest at the little gesture is unimaginable. She steps aside then, letting you inside of her apartment.

It doesn’t take long for Alexia to crack. She makes you a coffee and joins you on the sofa, and you had planned to start the conversation, but she didn’t let you. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice cracking slightly. “For yelling, for walking out, for everything. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, nodding, fiddling with your hands. “I… I wasn’t trying to push you away, Alexia. I just-” “You’re scared,” she interrupts, and a relief washes over you at the realization that she understands your feelings. “And I get that. But, please, I need you to talk to me, not shut me out.”

There’s a couple moments of silence, and you readjust your position on the couch, your knees now flush to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It was the only way to stop yourself from curling into her. You wouldn’t get to say what you wanted if you did. “It’s not just fear,” you admit. “It’s everything. What your cousin said, it wasn’t just about me. It was about us. Like I don’t belong in your world. Like- Like I’m just… some fling that you’ll outgrow.”

Alexia’s face hardens, jaw tightening and she reaches a hand out, but quickly retreats. “Don’t let them get to you, por favor. She doesn’t know anything about us, about you.” “But what if she’s right?” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not enough? For you, for your family, for-” Alexia does follow through with her hand then, placing it on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “Stop.” Her voice is firm but not harsh, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You are everything.” Your eyes meet hers, and you’re looking for anything that gives away she’s not speaking the truth. That she doesn’t mean this, that she’s just saying this out of pity. But you can’t find it. The only thing you find is a couple unshed tears, showing just how much emotion she’s pouring into this moment. “Do you know how much I love you? How much I admire you? Your kindness, strength, the way you light up any room without even trying. You’re the only one I want.” You go to speak up, but she lifts her hand in protest.

“What someone else thinks, whether it’s my family, my friends or anyone, doesn’t matter to me. You matter. You make me happy, and that’s all I care about. And if my cousin, or anyone else has a problem with that, they’ll have to say that to my face. And not behind your or my back.” Alexia straightens slightly, retreating her hand from your knee and placing them in her lap. “But I know I didn’t handle this right, and I’m sorry for that too,” she says earnestly. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was frustrated because I hate seeing you doubt yourself, especially when you’re so good to me, so good for me. I want to be better for you, better for us. But you need to let me in.”

You swallow hard, her words from the last couple minutes sinking in. You couldn’t believe how you deserved the woman sitting in front of you right now. So good, so honest, and all she wanted was you. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you, or… seem weak, I guess.” Alexia shakes her head, her gaze soft. “You’re not weak. And you’re never going to hurt me by telling me how you feel. We’re a team, remember? On the same side, mi amor.” The pet name sends a wave of warmth through you that you only now realize you missed terribly. “Besides,” she adds, her tone lighter now, “if our relationship has had to endure all the teasing from my teammates and the comments from fans, I’m sure we can handle a little communication hiccup.”

You laugh softly, and Alexia grins, relief washing over her. “There it is,” she says, her thumb brushing a tear off your cheek that you didn’t even know was there. “There’s my girl.” You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest lifting ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, too. For shutting you out. I’ll try to do better.” Alexia leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together.”

As the tension melts away, Alexia pulls you up, wrapping her arms tightly around you. The warmth of her embrace makes the world outside. She tilts her head to rest against yours, her voice soft as she speaks. “You’re never allowed to disappear like that again,” Alexia murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple. “Do you know how much I missed you? Two days felt like two years.” You nestle further into her, your arms circling her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed space to think. But it wasn’t worth it. Being without you felt awful. I just kept convincing myself that you were better off without me and vice versa, but I know that’s not true.”

Alexia pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb brushes gently over your cheek as she smiles, her expression soft. “You don’t have to run away to think, cariño. Just come to me, and we’ll figure it out together. Always.”

The weight of the past days begins to fade away as Alexia leans down and brushes her lips lightly against your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek. Each kiss feels like a promise, her way to say that everything’s going to be okay. “Stop,” you say, giggling softly, though you don’t actually want her to stop. “You’re making it impossible to stay mad at myself.” “Good,” Alexia says with a smirk, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. “Because I’m not done making it up to you yet.”

She shifts, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into her lap. You hesitate for a moment, but her arms tighten around your waist, grounding you. “This okay?” she asks softly, her lips brushing your ear. You nod, melting into her touch. “More than okay.” Her hands trail up and down your back in soothing strokes as you rest your head on her shoulder. The two of you sit like that for a while, in silence, before you take a nap together on the couch. As you lay in her arms, you know that that’s where you’re supposed to be. And you’re gonna battle every single one of your insecurities that tells you differently.

[loveesiren]

What about jj saving rafes gf instead of Sarah when she falls off the boat? Even though jj and Rafe hate each other

of course babes! sorry this took a while, i hope you enjoy! :)

𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕

warnings: not proofread, language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Before you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, you were a Pogue through and through. You grew up with JJ and John B, learning to boat, fish, and work hard for the things you wanted. Life was simple but full, with endless summer days spent on the water and nights filled with laughter. When Pope and Kiara joined your crew, it felt like your family was complete—especially since having Kiara around meant you finally had someone who understood what it was like to be a girl surrounded by all that chaotic, masculine energy.

But things changed when you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. At first, it seemed impossible. A Kook and a Pogue? The idea alone was laughable. Yet, against all odds, there was something magnetic about Rafe—a spark you couldn’t ignore. And to your surprise, he felt it too. It wasn’t long before stolen glances turned into secret meetings, and those meetings turned into something deeper. But every step closer to Rafe felt like a step away from your childhood friends.

Sure, it was fine when John B started dating Sarah Cameron. But when you got with the older Cameron sibling, it was a problem. Rafe’s constant harassment didn’t help your case. Sarah was much kinder than her brother, and the Pogues saw her as someone who genuinely cared for John B. Rafe, on the other hand, had a reputation that preceded him—a volatile temper and a knack for trouble that made him nearly impossible to trust. Except when it came to you. Your presence seemed to calm the storm in his mind.

Choosing Rafe wasn’t easy. It wasn’t that you stopped caring for the Pogues. In fact, you still loved them fiercely, even if your paths had diverged. Being with Rafe meant walking a tightrope. While he harbored a burning hatred for your old crew, he knew better than to act on it—because hurting them meant risking you. And losing you was unthinkable for Rafe, who had grown to see you as the one thing anchoring him in his stormy world. But even his restraint couldn’t erase the tension. The Pogues saw your relationship as a betrayal, and you feared they’d never forgive you. 

Now, you sat alone on the edge of a boat, staring out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic as it stretched endlessly before you. The journey to Morocco wasn’t one you’d ever imagined taking. But here you were, caught between two worlds, trying desperately to keep the peace. It was your idea to bring Rafe and the Pogues together for this mission. You’d convinced Rafe to help them track down Groff, who had made off with his money, knowing it could also give JJ and Pope a chance to evade capture. Even if you weren’t close anymore, you couldn’t bear to see the people you once called family thrown behind bars.

But, as expected, not everything had gone to plan.

The Pogues didn’t trust Rafe—and for good reason. His track record spoke for itself. As soon as they got him on the boat, they tied him up in the tiny bathroom, keeping him under lock and key. You understood their logic, but that didn’t make it any easier to see your boyfriend treated like a prisoner. Worse still, they’d forbidden you from seeing him until you reached Morocco. You didn’t fight them on it. Confrontation had never been your strong suit, and besides, you knew better than to argue with JJ when his mind was made up.

So, you sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull, the salty breeze brushing against your face. The solitude of the sea was both comforting and suffocating. It gave you time to think—about the choices you’d made, the people you’d hurt, and the fragile balance you were struggling to maintain. You wanted to believe this trip could be a turning point, a chance to bridge the gap between Rafe and the Pogues. But deep down, you knew the odds were slim. Trust was hard to rebuild, and the wounds on both sides ran deep.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you let out a weary sigh. All you could do now was wait—for land, for answers, for the moment when everything would inevitably come to a head. Until then, the sea was your only companion, its endless expanse reflecting the tangled mess of your heart.

-

Sarah was kind. She always had been. Even after all her brother had put her through, she still cared for him enough to make sure he was fed and hydrated. She did the same for you.

“Brought you some dinner,” she said, plopping down beside you.

“Thanks,” you responded softly. You took a few bites of the sandwich she brought you before putting it aside. Your appetite had been wearing thin the entire trip.

“I think it’s stupid too,” she said, looking out at the horizon while the late sun cast bright ripples on the calm water.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “The whole Kook versus Pogue thing. Rafe’s done his fair share of bad shit, but haven’t we all? I really think he wants to help this time.”

“He does,” you said. “All he wants is to get his money back from Groff. He doesn’t care about the crown. Honest.”

“I know,” she said, offering you a soft smile. “We’ll be there soon. Try to rest.”

You pondered her words as she walked off. You weren’t overly close with Sarah. It was almost as if you and she had swapped lives. You started seeing Rafe around the same time Sarah and John B got together, and for the last three years, she’d been getting a taste of life’s adventures while you enjoyed the finer things. You loved Rafe. You were in love with him. You couldn’t imagine being without him. But you often found yourself missing the life you once lived with the Pogues.

You cringed as you swallowed one final shot of whiskey, a vice that did close to nothing to take the stress away. You tossed the bottle to the side and rolled over, closing your eyes and trying your best to relax to the soothing sounds of the ocean. Eventually, you were lulled to sleep, dreaming of Rafe. He smiled as he took you into his large arms, and you felt secure in his warm embrace.

The dream was short-lived, though, as you were thrown roughly against the hard wall of the boat. Disoriented, you struggled to find something to grip. Rain lashed against your face as the boat pitched violently from side to side.

You made your way to your feet and took in your surroundings. The storm had hit fast. You could see movement inside the helm as the Pogues scrambled to navigate the chaos and secure the boat.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your breath hitching. “Rafe!” your voice rose into a frantic scream as you stumbled toward the helm. You knew you had to find him—if he was left unsecured, he’d drown.

“Y/N, get inside!” JJ’s voice cut through the storm. You turned to see him and John B holding the door open, JJ’s hand extended toward you. You reached for him, but another violent wave threw you to the deck.

“Where’s Rafe?!” you yelled, coughing as salty seawater stung your throat.

“Kiara’s getting him!” John B shouted back.

Moments later, Rafe appeared in the doorway, drenched but alive. “Y/N!”

Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, but your joy was short-lived. A massive wave loomed on the horizon, crashing into the boat with terrifying force. You screamed as the water dragged you off the stern, the world disappearing into a churning abyss.

“Y/N!” JJ and Rafe shouted in unison.

“Rafe!” you screamed, fighting to keep your head above water. The sea clawed at you, threatening to pull you under. “Rafe! Help!”

“I’m coming, Y/N!” JJ’s voice rang out as he dove into the water after you.

“JJ, what are you doing?!” John B yelled, trying to hold Rafe back from following. “JJ, no, no, no!”

But it was too late. JJ had already disappeared beneath the waves.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s scream was raw with desperation, tears streaming down his face. John B had never seen him so unhinged, so consumed by fear.

John B pressed his hand firmly against Rafe’s chest, forcing him back inside. “Come on, man! We can’t help them if we drown too!” he yelled over the howling wind. He shoved Rafe into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Rafe sobbed, pounding his fists against the wall. “I have to go help her! I have to find her, man!”

“Rafe!” Sarah’s voice cut through the chaos as she wrapped her arms around him. “Rafe, it’s okay! Let’s just get to land. I’m sure they’ll find their way back!” She rubbed his back as he crumpled, his sobs echoing through the small cabin.

-

The water finally calmed as you and JJ struggled onto the sand, every muscle in your body screaming with exhaustion. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the relief of solid ground beneath you was overwhelming. Collapsing onto the beach, you coughed violently, lungs burning as you fought to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his voice ragged between gasps for air.

You nodded weakly, words feeling like too much effort. After a moment, you managed to rasp, “A-Are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Minutes passed as you both sat in silence, trying to steady your breathing. The ocean stretched out before you, dark and infinite, illuminated only by a pale sliver of moonlight. A single tear slid down your cheek as your thoughts turned to Rafe—his face, his voice, and the uncertainty of whether you’d ever see him again.

“They’ll be okay, Y/N,” JJ said softly, his tone more reassuring than he probably felt. “At first light, we’ll head down the beach. We’ll find them.”

You nodded, swallowing back another wave of emotion. “Hey, Jayj?” Your voice was barely audible.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, gratitude lacing every syllable.

He turned to you with a tired but genuine smile. “Can’t kill a Pogue, right?”

The next thing you knew, the sun was warming your skin, its gentle rays coaxing you back to consciousness. The once-violent sea was calm now, its rhythmic waves bringing an unexpected peace. You stretched, muscles stiff and aching, before glancing toward the shore.

JJ was standing near the water, absentmindedly dragging his foot through the sand. You rose to your feet, brushing off grains of sand stuck to your damp clothes, and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

He turned, offering you a small smile. “Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Guess so,” you chuckled. “Didn’t even realize I passed out.”

“Not surprising,” JJ said with a shrug. “You were pretty wrecked.” His tone was light, but concern lingered in his eyes. “I was thinking we head up the beach toward where the boat was headed. If they made it to land, that’s where we’ll find them.”

You winced at the word if, the uncertainty slicing through your chest like a blade. “Okay,” you replied firmly. “Let’s go.”

For the next 45 minutes, the two of you trudged along the beach in silence, your shared determination a quiet bond. Every step brought a mix of hope and dread as you scanned the horizon for any sign of your loved ones.

“You know,” JJ said suddenly, breaking the silence, “they’re probably feeling the same as us—like they might never see us again.”

You shook your head, gripping tightly onto hope. “We’ll find them, Jayj. We have to.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “We will.”

A few more minutes passed before you gathered the courage to speak again. “JJ?”

He glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do… Do you hate me?” The question felt heavy on your tongue, dredging up years of unspoken tension.

JJ’s expression shifted, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He sighed, raking a hand through his damp hair. “No, Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.”

His words caught you off guard, and you looked down, fiddling with your hands. “It just… it felt like you did.”

JJ’s voice softened as he continued. “I was hurt. You were my best friend, and when you and Rafe got together, it felt like he stole you away. From me. From all of us.”

A tear slid down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. “I’m sorry, Jayj. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said firmly. “All you’ve ever done was try to keep the peace. I should’ve seen that sooner. And last night, when you fell off the boat…” His voice wavered, and he looked away. “All I could think about was how I couldn’t let you die thinking I hated you. You’re my sister, Y/N. You always will be.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. JJ hugged you back tightly, resting his chin on your head.

“I love you, Jayj. I’ve missed you so much,” you whispered.

He pulled back, his hands on your shoulders. “We’re gonna fix this. All of it. I’ll even make an effort with Rafe if it means getting you back.”

An hour later, the sun was high in the sky when you spotted movement in the distance.

“J, is that them?” you asked breathlessly, shielding your eyes with your hand.

JJ squinted at the figures. “Let’s find out,” he said, quickening his pace.

As you got closer, the shapes grew clearer: Sarah’s golden hair, Kiara’s familiar stance, and Rafe’s unmistakable silhouette towering above the group.

“Rafe!” you cried, breaking into a run.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening before he sprinted toward you. The moment he reached you, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Oh my God,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he buried his face in your neck. “I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never see you again!” He cried.

“I’m here,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m safe. JJ saved me.”

When Rafe finally pulled back, his gaze shifted to JJ, who stood a few feet away, watching the reunion. Without hesitation, Rafe approached him and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” Rafe said, his voice thick with emotion.

JJ stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, clapping Rafe on the back. “Yeah, well… couldn’t let her die on my watch,” he said with a crooked smile.

As you stood there, watching the two men who meant so much to you, hope swelled in your chest. For the first time in years, you felt like things might finally be okay.

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