#I was in an immense “What the fuck” state when I woke up

[violethursday]

I had a dream about Copper last night

So the dream took place at school and my class was exiting the building to either go to the baseball, football, or track field. The school was doing this fundraiser called a "color run" (I researched it an hour after I woke up) where color would be thrown at everyone. Funny thing is, they're gonna be doing that in May. Anyways, I'm throwing colors and I see Copper with a mostly white shirt. How do I end up getting colors on his shirt? My first instinct was to hug him for some reason. He ends up hugging me back and we hold each other slow-dancing style. Also somehow I rest my head on his shoulder despite our massive height difference (4'9'-4'10' and 5'10').

So yeah that's the dream 🧍

[ladycaramelswirl]

A Dream Like You

Female reader x Aaron Hotchner

A/N: I did something… hormonal 💀 may delete later

summary: you and Aaron share a bed on a case. oh, also you’re both in love with each other and totally oblivious. And sexually frustrated 🫠

cw: Idk how ratings work but I’m pretty sure this is explicit. (sm*t?) No mention of Y/N! Also quite a bit of swearing, which is unusual for me.

A/N (main): this is my first time writing anything remotely sexual. It’s short! I was writing something completely different but it ended up as… idk what this is. Also I’m sorry for any typos. Enjoy 💀

————————————

You wake up to the most perfect warmth enveloping you. And the delightful smell of soap and a citrus scented laundry detergent. You sleepily bury your nose into the smell. Except the source of the smell is Aaron, who immediately startles awake at your movement, only to go completely still when he realises you’re the reason for the wonderful warmth pressed against him. He tries to move away but you pull him closer, pushing your breasts against his chest and your leg between his thighs, dangerously close to his now extremely hard cock.

You move against him in your sleep, rocking against his sensitive underside, causing him to moan. This was bad. So bad. He really needed you to wake up. 

“Hey”, he whispers.

“Mmm”, you mumble into your bedmates neck. “It’s so nice here. Don’t want to get up”. 

God you were killing him. He tries to move away, not wanting to disturb your much needed sleep, but you just hold onto him tighter. Were arms supposed to feel this good?

“Please wake up”, he pleads. You needed sleep, but if you kept rubbing against him, he was going come, and then things would be very very uncomfortable. He tries to shake you awake but you rock your hips against him again. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, pleasure rushing through him. Your sleepy mind finds immense satisfaction at his voice and starts moving against him harder. 

“Oh God”, he chokes. 

“You feel so good baby”, you whisper in his ear. You throb with desire. “I need you”, you whine, the friction from your movement sending you into a state of bliss. God you’ve never had a sex dream this good.

Aaron feels his heart race with your movement but it’s your words that cause him to get harder. How was he supposed to forget how you called him baby? He tries to shake you off. 

“You need to wake up. I-“, his words are cut off by an uncontrollable gasp of pleasure that escapes him. 

You feel desperate for the feeling of him inside you. “Fuck me. Please fuck me”, you beg. It takes all of Aaron’s willpower to push you off of him and he jams a pillow between you. He immediately gets on his feet, needing to get away from you. You let out a disappointed whimper and that’s all he can take before he rushes into the bathroom. He turns the water on in the shower before stepping under it, trying to get the cold water to cool him off. But nothing is helping. He wraps his fingers around his hard shaft, slowly moving it up and down. He grits his teeth together, the memory of your words making it almost impossible to not vocalise his pleasure, but you were still asleep and if you woke up, he’d have to explain why he was so flushed. So he tries his best to be quiet. Your voice plays in his head - “you feel so good baby”. He strokes himself faster. “I need you”. His knees buckle in pleasure. “Fuck me. Please”. His mind goes blank as he experiences an euphoric climax and his legs shake as his gratification covers the bathroom tile. Fuck. He’s never got himself off that fast. Shit. He just fucked himself thinking about you. He immediately feels a surge of guilt. He is your boss. He is not supposed to feel this way about you. And you had thought you were sleeping. He has no excuse for his behaviour. He towels himself off and checks his watch for the time. 4am. It’s too early to get up but he cannot get back into bed with you there so he gets dressed. He leaves a note explaining that he’s gone to the precinct to work on the case and that you should join later with everyone else, then quietly slips out of the room.

The sound of the door closing stirs you from your sleep. You reach for your nightstand to check your watch, but find nothing. The panic of being in a strange room makes you sit up and you remember that you’re in a hotel room on a case. You reach to the right for your watch again only to realise you’re not on the side of the bed you slept on. And that you’re alone but you hadn’t been when going to bed. You notice the note on his nightstand. Of course he was already up at 4am. Unless you had kicked him out of bed by rolling onto his side? Oh God, you hope not. And why did you feel so… sensitive? You notice the pillow between your thighs. You recall your dream, and his sounds of pleasure, groaning in frustration and burying your face in the pillow. Only you’re overwhelmed by the smell of Hotch. It’s enough to have you throbbing again. You’d just had a sex dream of your boss. While in bed within him. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else? It was so embarrassing. And completely inappropriate. You had to pull yourself together. But you felt a desperate ache between your thighs. And the smell of him was overwhelmingly good. Before you can really think about what’s happening you bring one hand to your breast, palming yourself through your shirt and slip your other hand into your sleep shorts, rubbing your sensitive nub. Were dreams supposed to be that vivid? The memory of his body against yours has you imagining your fingers are his. You slip one finger inside, then two. His would be so much thicker, so filling. You throb against your digits at the thought. You can almost hear his moans. You fuck yourself harder. God it feels so good. 

“Yes Aaron”, you pant, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that he’s not here. You pinch your nipples as you swipe at your sensitive bundle of nerves and suddenly remember the sound of him whimpering. It’s enough to make you see white. Your orgasm rips through you and you’re soaked in sweat by the time you come down from your high. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating when you’ve ever had an orgasm that good. Never.

You were so fucked.

———

A/N P.S. : I hope you liked it! should I post the writing that inspired this? It’s pretty much the opposite of this - far away from smut land and very much the capital of pining city. It’s much more my usual style. Anyway let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

HCs of Alfie with a younger wife? Like in her mid 20s 💕

Hello my darling!!! I’m sorry this took forever! But I am back!!! Please enjoy this little nugget. Also y’all HCs are so fun!!!! Maybe I should do more.

He wasn’t planning on marrying a younger woman. Let’s be honest he wasn’t planning on getting married PERIOD.

But then you blustered in…

You came in. Full of wisdom so far beyond your age. Full of confidence that came from the knowledge that you were the best you you could be. Full of light that he thought would flee from a man like him.

He immediately was drawn to you. Your soothing voice that brought down his rage, which so quickly could come full force against him when he got too brash and foolish, reminding him that there’s no need to destroy what was not yet broken.

Despite the incurable draw to you, he said he would stay away. Be respectful. Be a respectful old man.

You would have none of it. Because truthfully he wasn’t that old. He was just snippy and preferred his habits. He hadn’t been a young man ever since the war. Regardless what his birth certificate said.

In truth it didn’t take too much to get him to relent. He’s just a man in front of a beautifully infuriating woman. And after a screaming match ending with you laughing at his reddening ears and hoarse voice, he let himself finally say it, “Right then. Now only my woman gets to screech at me like you do. So I’ll see you tomorrow night? Take you to the pictures and maybe dinner?”

And soon enough he asked for your hand, rumors and shaking heads be damned. He needed you more than air, and for some reason you loved him just as much.

Alfie expected his life would change once you were moved into his home. Was only natural. But he didn’t expect to change THIS much.

Or that he would like it. That he would feel like a chasm he didn’t realize he had was finally sealed up and healed with the first morning he woke up to you next to him.

Younger yes. Unorganized you were not. And very quickly upon your arrival did you see the bachelor pad state and work your magic to rectify. To turn this dragon’s cave into an actual home. Curtains and windows finally opened to let in fresh air. Ledgers and letters were filed away. The garden in the back finally being tended to to indicate actual humans lived and loved on the premises.

Remember that Alfie has been a bachelor the majority of his life. Any pretty women which came into his life were quickly shoo’d away. So to say he was puzzled by your… womanly… tools?? Weapons??… was putting it lightly.

“My dove now what the fuck are these? They look like tiny dinner rolls.”

“They’re rollers Alfie! For my hair! Gives it the wave.”

“Right right hair wave rollers yes of course. Now what about these… powders and things?”

“My rouge and lipstick darling.”

He didn’t get it at all.

Though Alfie is partial to opera and the absolute classics, he adores the new music you bring home. His family in Boston adore you immensely and have taken to mailing you the newest records in America.

If you’re extra sweet, you can usually coax him to dance with you, spinning yourself around him in a tizzy. By the end of your evenings he’s drunk without even a single sip of rum.

He’s never been so happy. So care free. But there is this nagging feeling in his stomach. One that won’t go away. That maybe you’re not truly happy. That you’re secretly wishing to be back out with the young people. To go out dancing in pretty dresses instead of in the living room in your dressing gown. To be fawned over in illustrious restaurants instead of cooking dinner together most nights. Had he robbed you of your youth simply because he’s selfish?

He never tells you this. No being a man means keeping your feelings inside and not letting your woman see you less than perfectly confident. (His words not mine)

But you read him so easily. It’s easy when you love someone so completely. Especially if your lover gets the deepest scowl on his face when he’s troubled, staring deep into space.

When you finally coax him out of him, he merely grumbled like a shifting mountain, trying to brush it off.

But oh how he wished he told you sooner. You assure him that you never really enjoyed the clubs and high society outings. You much preferred to stay home with your friends and other loved ones. What could possibly be out there that could even come close to what you have in the house.

When you do manage to get out of the house, either to the cinema, walking Cyril, venturing out for dinner, or because you insisted that walking is good for him, he is fully aware of the stares.

Some are… disapproving. As much as they can be towards the King of Camden. But the ones he is most irritated by are the love sick stares of the young men who trail after you. Clearly covetous and stupid enough to be blind to the beast that walks close beside you.

He is shocked you don’t notice. When he brings it up to you, you merely laugh, “Why would I be noticing men staring? The only man I’m concerned with is you.”

That comment makes him smirk wickedly, grasping firmly to your waist as you laughed brightly, swatting his chest playfully when he growls in your ear.

For all your ferocity and fiery eyes, Alfie still dotes on you and frets over you. Little presents are common. He insists on you bundling at the slightest drop of temperature or precipitation. And begrudgingly “permits” you to attend to errands on your own (you and everyone else knows he would never forbid you unless it was truly dangerous. But he loves to rile you up and tease).

You’ll never want for anything being his bride. Nothing is off limits for you. Even if he does make a show of pulling out bank notes, groaning about how his bank account suffers. Even when he’s the one that insists on buying you new things.

He may be the older one, but you are some how so much more wiser and practical. Anchoring him to the present when the nightmares come. Secretly convening with his doctors to heal the deep aches and malaise. He insists you’re magic.

To some it’s unconventional. Your love doesn’t make sense. But to those who truly know, you’re a match made in heaven.

[ever-eilish]

Hey!! Could you do a reader x billie fwb situation where the reader is attached. But, billie doesn't notice it and keeps flirting with everyone ( thats like her personality) .It starts of as angst and it ends with fluff later

Totally fine if not, have a great day/night :) <33

"Fuck you, Billie!"

billie eilish x fem!reader

at a stupid party, an unexpected confession may change everything you've ever believed to know

author's notes: I really like this one! I enjoyed writing it so much and I hope you like it as much as I do; I'm sorry if this is not what you wanted, once again, english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes! enjoy🩷

warnings: just a bit of cursing, starts of with a bit of angst but ends with fluff!

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to maintain a friends-with-benefits relationship with Billie. You knew it wouldn't mean you were the only girl she dated, but maybe your subconscious believed there was only one chance she would fall in love with you the same way you fell in love with her.

You don't know exactly how and when it happened, it was as if simply, on a not-so-beautiful day, you woke up completely in love with your childhood best friend.

The moment Billie made you the friends-with-benefits proposal two months ago because she was feeling very lonely and horny - her words -, you knew it wasn't a good idea; and yet, you accepted.

As previously stated, you knew it wouldn't be like in a relationship, but when you were tangled in a warm sheet on a king-size bed, you could even pretend you were something.

Who could you fool? You loved this girl more than anyone could ever love.

And that's how you ended up here, at a party, sitting in a corner while watching the love of your life flirt with dozens of different girls. You didn't know anyone, everyone present at that party was of an unreachable level to you.

Celebrities, famous painters, and even directors of very popular films chatted animatedly while you were just….you, a first-year college student who was the fucking best friend of the biggest celebrity of the moment.

What the fuck am I doing here? You wondered all the time.

No one here was like you, well, except for one person.

And speaking of the devil.....

"What are you doing standing there, little girl? Come, I'll introduce you to my friends" Billie told you, excitedly pulling you by the hand and leading you to the center of the unnecessary big house.

Even with her smile that didn't leave her face, you could sense that something seemed strange.

The brunette practically dragged you around the room, while introducing you to a series of rich and important men, and a lot of pretty girls.

"And that's Ellie!" she finally introduced you to the last girl on her long list of friends.

How the fuck can someone have that many friends?

"Nice to meet you, Ellie" you said with a slight smile on your face, not liking the way Billie was looking at the blonde girl in front of you, seeming like she was going to devour - in the most sexual way possible - her at any moment. Suddenly, that feeling of jealousy you knew so well settled in the back of your stomach. Heavens how you wish she would look at you like that.

Without you even realizing it, the two women in front of you got into a conversation with a lot of flirting, while you stood there and had a bad feeling in your gut.

You realized that maybe it was time to go get some air.

You considered going back to your house, but you came to this party in Billie's car, so the possibility of leaving alone did not exist, since, even if you took a Taxi, you were sure she would find a way to make unnecessary drama if you just left without her.

You walked out the front door of the big house and sat on the cold grass, plucking tufts from the bush with the fingers of your right hand. You breathed and exhaled the way your psychologist had taught you more than three hundred times, but nothing could remove the immense urge to cry you had at that moment.

And when you were about to shed the first tear, you felt the body warmth of the last person you'd like to see right now, sitting next to you.

"Weren't you with that girl, Amelie?" you said to Billie

"Ellie"

"What?"

"Her name is Ellie" the brunette replied in an even lower voice, leaving all her excitement aside.

It doesn't sound like the girl that was happily flirting with other girls just minutes ago, you thought.

In response to Billie, you just let out a little smirk.

"Won't you go back there? It looked like you were having fun" you said and turned your face towards hers, only now noticing how tired her face looked.

"I wasn't having fun. I hate those dumb weird men and those petty girls" she said "The reality is I wanted to try to distract myself, but none of the girls I flirted with all night were you"

"What?"

"I said I wasn't having fun, I hate those-" she started to repeat what she had said earlier, but you interrupted her.

"Yes, I know, I get it" you say now staring at her seriously, while she avoids your gaze "I want you to repeat the last part".

"None of them were you" she whispered, and that's when she finally looked into your eyes and you realize she was holding back tears.

What the fuck is going on? Is this some sort of bad joke?

"You know, I used to think this feeling would pass" she began "I thought if I ignored it, maybe all my love for you would be gone... it didn't happen. So when I realized that pretending you didn't exist wasn't going to work, I asked you to be my friend with benefits, so at least for a few hours, I could pretend we weren't just friends. I thought that the idea of never having you would end up settling in the back of my mind and that it would pass; but, to my not-so-surprise, it seems like every day I fall more in love with you."

When you hear those words, it's almost as if the world has stopped spinning. Everything you've ever wanted is in front of you, and for the first time in your life, you've decided not to be a coward and follow what your heart tells you

I want her.

Before you could even answer the girl sitting next to you, she gets up and starts walking towards the big house.

I can't let the love of my life slip through my fingers, you decided, so you got up and ran a little until you got close to Billie, who was now just a few feet away from the entrance of the house.

"Billie!" you said and she turned around, with tears in her eyes.

"I know you don't feel the same, I'm sorry if I scared you"

"Fuck you, Billie!" you say and she looks at you wide-eyed "It's obvious I'm in love with you too, idiot, I've loved you forever"

And, before she could process what you had said, you throw yourself into her arms and kiss her as if your life depended on it - because it does.

She soon returns the kiss with even more passion. Her lips tasted sweet and she soon asked for passage with her tongue, which you immediately allowed.

To the sadness of both of you, you had to separate to breathe a little, and it was only then that you noticed that some curious eyes stared at you.

Your attention is soon returned to Billie when she hugs you tightly and puts her face on your neck.

In a muffled voice, still keeping her face in the crook of her neck, Billie says:

"You know, there was no need for you to tell me to fuck off"

[babesway22]

“In too deep” part 5

Vox x fem!reader// NSFW 18+ // 🔞 minors do not enter.

⚠️the first of many smut encounters for these two, finally! Were working that slow burn Bebe.

Summary: After a strange week you get offered a job working for hell's biggest asshole but does he have a soft spot for you? Or is he just using you?

Tags: vox, slow burn, the assistant has to deal with his shit, powerful overlord, jealousy, hazbin hotel, v tower, Valentino is problematic, eventual p in v, smut, the reader is in need of real love, the reader is shy, assistant trope, the reader has a crush but also wants to kill him sometimes.

Notes: hi, hello, I’m new here. I have the intent for this to be a slow burn with crumbs of smut here and there until the reader and Vox have a more established relationship. Several parts for sure, or, at least until I’m satisfied that the reader is fully loved and taken care of by the angry TV man.

You woke dazed, the early morning light casting long red shadows in the room creating a disorienting ambiance that made your head ache, the hangover brutal. Slowly sitting up in bed, you let your fingers gingerly ghost over your bruised jaw, wincing at the light contact. Everything from last night hit you like a massive wave of emotion, tears silently streaming down your face. Your body trying and failing horribly to digest all of the information that's been thrown at you at a constant rate for the last few months, and then there was the matter of Vox, whose room you sat in for not the first time, but second, since meeting him. “Fuck,” your voice hoarse from crying. Was he angry? You remembered you hugged him, making you groan in embarrassment, knowing better than others, that physical touch wasn't something the overlord enjoyed. You owed him big time for saving your life but also showing immense kindness when he could've been cold. Your thoughts mindlessly carried you away until a soft rap on the bedroom door startled you back to reality. Quickly wiping the tears away on the back of your hand and wrapping yourself in the blanket you waited expectantly.

“Are you decent miss?” you heard Cors's voice from the other side making you sigh with relief.

“Yes,” you called out, voice still full of emotion.

Entering slowly he made his way to the side of the bed. A small tray in his hand and, what appeared to be iced water with lemon, coffee, and a large, unidentified, pink pill.

“Good morning miss, it's 7 am Monday morn-” he began cheerfully.

“Fuck,” you interrupted loudly, beginning to sit up.

Cor held his hand up, patiently. Having done this same routine hundreds of times for Vox when he was badly hungover or, if he would ever admit, sick with a virus.

“I know what you're going to say,” he smiled knowingly.

You looked at him apologetically, taking the tray from him and setting it down on the nightstand.

“Vox has requested that you stay in bed today, in here, stating very specifically, that your safety was of the utmost importance and that you are not to return to assistant responsibilities until his authorization. Now, there’s the matter of the event tonight,” holding up a finger “which I know, as one of his top assistants you had, no doubt, planned on attending from the sidelines, but, he requests if you're able, of course, to attend as his…date” he finished a small smile on his lips.

You opened your mouth to speak, ultimately closing it astonished by all the information you had to digest.

“Ah, and the pink pill, miss, is a pain reliever as well as an accelerator for healing” gesturing to your bruised jaw.

“Well, who's covering for me? I can work perfectly fine,” you scoffed “What am supposed to do all day? he can't just tell me what to-” the words spilled from your lips angrily.

Cutting in on you this time, eyebrows arched “But he can miss. Speaking of, he mentioned that he’ll come to check on you this evening, I imagine you could voice those opinions to him then?”

The thought of seeing him sooner than you expected shutting you up for the time being. “Fine,” you nodded stubbornly.

“We will be sending up clothes and food, shortly, although, I suggest sleep, the medication is strong. Is there anything else I can do for you?” bowing his head slightly.

“You’ve been so kind, thank you, but, how is he? Vox, I mean” your voice quiet as if he could hear you inquiring about him through the walls, hell, perhaps, he could.

“If you're asking if he's angry at you, the answer is no, actually, it's quite the opposite but I fear I mustn't say much more on that as that's for him to say, not me” his eyes had that same knowing look, confusing you.

“As you can imagine, I have quite a few fires to put out this morning so, if you'll excuse me, miss” he chortled, heading out the door.

******************

Vox sat in his office, red, tired eyes glued to the monitor that viewed the outside of his suite. He rapped his long claws on the desk impatiently, huffing out a breath and sitting back. As per usual, he had too much on his plate but scoffed at the idea of someone thinking he couldn't handle it. Work was a mundane distraction like most other things in his afterlife and something he willingly took on because, in his, valuable opinion, no one else could do it like him. Fucking morons.

His screen vibrated energetically, a call from Velvette that he grabbed and threw onto the nearest screen with a loud zap. Sighing, he put on his most charismatic smile, reluctantly.

“Velvette, darling, good hellish morning. Whatever can I do for you?” raising his slender eyebrows quizzically.

“I’m calling to make sure you have a fucking date for tonight's Black tie event! You didn't forget, did you!?” looking away he was momentarily distracted by Cor seen leaving his suite, pissing Velvette off, “Whatever, whoever the slut is,” she pointed a manicured finger at him menacingly through the screen, “I want her dressed in my finest and make sure she sells it, got it!?” she screeched.

Looking back at her he glinted his sharp teeth in a Cheshire cat manner, ever the charmer “Already on it, dear! Don't you worry,” but before she could complain any longer, no doubt, giving him a headache, he ended the call, dropping his smile along with it. “Ugh,” he sighed loudly. Finally taking a moment for himself, he leaned back again, this time letting his head hang off the back of the chair. Cor was due any moment, dutifully coming to tell him how you were. Reflecting, he realized as of late that his emotions had been betraying him, making him more irrational and irritated than he already was, a dangerous concoction, surely. Where hate and displeasure normally sat high upon their throne, there you were, captivating him. He tried in vain, but last night's occurrences replayed in his mind on a steady loop. Your pleading, crying eyes imploring for him to stay, the blood on your dress and beautiful face, and your exhausted from sleeping soundly and safely in his bed. “FUCK,” he pinched his screen where the bridge of his nose would have existed, something he did in his human form, not forgotten.

“Sir,” Cor said, pulling him out of his introspections. Swiveling around in his chair, he sat up, lifting an eyebrow, “Well?” his voice strained.

“She's fine enough sir, it seems she had been crying and was quite sure she could go to work, always so independent and stubborn,” he laughed lightly,

“And?” he was getting angry, a headache coming on.

“Ah yes, I told her about the event, sir. Just like you requested. She didn't say anything on the matter,” he said openly.

He waved his hand at Cor dismissively swiveling back around to the monitors, eyes landing on the hazbin hotel. What a fucking shit hole, and one more thing he had to worry about. If Alastor ever found out he had feelings for someone, he would surely use it against him.

****************

After Cor left you sat with your thoughts, eventually deciding that although you could work, you guess it was reasonable that you required rest. If anything, you felt more emotionally beaten, an insane sequence of events occurring, leaving you depleted. In your living life, you were hyper-independent, never allowing anyone to step in, much less allowing someone to take care of you but here you were, although, grumpy about the matter, you allowed it. As Cor mentioned, the medication made you drowsy, and eventually laying back down, you slept for an additional 7 hours. Waking, feeling refreshed, you were greeted with a small pile of clothes to pick from and a handwritten note from Cor, saying there was fresh fruit in the kitchen for you. Usually overloaded with work throughout the day you found yourself incredibly bored, choosing a self-guided tour of his immense suite. You walked into the large living area first, already well acquainted with his bedroom which you gathered he rarely slept in anyway. The room was massive, with high ceilings and modest, black leather couches. Nothing in particular stood out to you but noted his taste was modern and minimal, the theme carrying refreshingly throughout all spaces. Once in the kitchen, your fingers trailed mindlessly over a variety of costly liquors, humming to yourself at his affluent taste. Opening the fridge you noticed the fruit and nothing else. “He never eats either, shocking,” you hummed to yourself, grabbing a handful of strawberries. In the corner, your eyes were drawn to a large antique record player with stacks of vinyls tidily kept beneath. Interested, you crouched down, your delicate fingers swiping through the collection. Most of them were from the early to late 50s, making you wonder if that was the time he was from, some of his traits and mannerisms making more sense if that was the case. You looked out the kitchen windows, the red tint in the sky was withering to an inky black. If you had to guess, it was close to 5 pm with Vox ending his day anywhere from 6-9 pm, never consistent in that matter, always working until he couldn't anymore. With the event happening you inferred he'd stay late, doing preparations, or, just yelling at whatever poor soul replaced you today. It gave you more time to explore but first, music. You plucked a random vinyl, removing it from its sleeve, and positioning it gently on the slipmat, lowering the needle.

The air filled with an upbeat tune, not unfamiliar from the era in which your life was terminated. You closed your eyes, swaying and twirling about the space carelessly. Time passed slowly until all you heard was the soft scratching of the needle riding through the grooves.

A loud clapping behind you startled you making you whip around. Vox was leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, putting his hands back in his pocket, an arrogant smile on his face.

“Bravo, bravo,” he deadpanned.

“Vox? Shit. How long have you been there? I thought you'd still be at work,” your voice shrill.

“Long enough,” he shrugged.

“I thought you didn't like music, I was surprised to see it here. I hope you don't mind,” pointing back to the machine.

“Music is fine, I don't like radio,” his voice deforming on the last word.

“Most all the artists are from the 50s?” you implored, suddenly anxious at the palpable tension that entered the room at the mention of radio.

“They are,” he strolled past you,

snatching a glass and pouring tequila to the brim. Something was certainly on his mind but what, you wondered.

“Are you done for the day?” you asked meekly, changing the subject.

Turning to you he leaned back on the marble counter. Observing you “I am,” he said, downing the clear liquid and setting it down behind him.

He looked so damn attractive. What was wrong with you?

“Anyways,” his voice interrupting your thoughts “you needed rest, so, I took you off any duties for the week, and with this being the safest room in the building I figured you'd feel more comfortable” he paused, raising an attractive eyebrow at you, “Everything okay?”

Catching yourself, you realized you were staring too long. Did he notice? “Yes, to all of that, yes. Thank you,” stumbling through the words.

He paused a moment, his eyes intense, hiding some other emotion, “come here,” his voice distorting again which should have been your first warning.

But without hesitation, you walked over to him, standing between his long legs. Which you also found attractive, fuck. Keep it together.

Taking his thumb and pointer finger he held

Your face up in the light, examining what was left of the bruises. His claws felt sharp on your skin, but you found yourself feeling safe with him, trusting him entirely. Was that wrong? You couldn't be sure.

“The medication, it worked?” he asked, his voice now darker than it was the other night before you were interrupted.

Closing your eyes, you sighed “Yes, I think so?”

“That's good,” his voice sounding much closer. Gradually, he tilted your head back so the graceful column of your neck was revealed to him.

“I’m losing control, doll,” he breathed into your ear, sending warmth down your spine, straight to your core.

“Vox,” you gasped. The sudden change of direction this was going made you feel light-headed. You placed a hand tentatively on his hip to keep yourself from falling backward. Making him growl lowly, “Careful”

His mood suddenly felt dangerous, the air in the room filling with a strange metallic static that coated your tongue and mouth.

“Do you feel safe with me?” his voice hissing like an exposed electrical wire. His ego was seemingly wounded, from what, you couldn't be sure.

“Yes,” your voice was small and hardly audible.

“If the radio demon ever comes for you, I’ll slit his throat and mount his stupid fucking head on my wall” each word distorted like a tv changing through stations too fast.

He released you from his grip making you stumble away from him.

Turning his back to you he filled another glass full of tequila.

If never aware before, you were now that you just stood toe to toe with one of hell's

most powerful overlords. You allowed yourself to get too comfortable you reminded yourself, taking a small step away from him.

Turning back around he stared down at you, apologetically.

“I'm sorry,” he said, evidently sincere.

You didn't say anything at first, casting your eyes to the floor. He was always so hot and cold, making it nauseating to converse with him at times.

“You're so powerful, sometimes I forget could tear me to shre-”

“Don't say that,” he cut in.

“Vox, I feel like whatever this is,” you gestured between the two of you “is confusing me. One minute I'm afraid of you the next I want to,” you stopped yourself, looking up at him.

“You're the closest anyone's ever gotten to me,” he said taking a long stride towards you.

This time you didn't move, looking up at him.

“What do you mean?”

His screen glitched to an error screen before switching back. His eyebrows pulled down into a deep V.

“I don't know what you're doing to me, doll” he reached his hand out placing it on your

cheek, tenderly, “I feel like I'm losing control of my emoti-”

“Fuck me,” you said, pulling confidence out of thin air, surprising you both.

“What?” he said incredulously.

“Fuck me, see if you still feel the same after,” you said assuredly.

“I'm not gonna fuck you to test whatever-” he trailed off.

Stepping back from him you slowly slipped your dress over your head, dropping it to the floor in a pool of black fabric by his feet. You stood before him, braless with only a pair of lace underwear and heels on.

“What's the matter, vox?” you said walking back up to him, grabbing his tequila out of his hand and sipping it “Cat got your tongue?” you purred.

“Something like that,” he said, reaching his hand out and pulling you back snuggly to his body. A game of push and pull going on between you both.

You placed a hand on his belt, staring up at him through long lashes. Your breasts pressed against his lower abdomen giving him a nice view when he stared down at you, taking his tequila back.

Looking back down you palmed him through his pants slowly, gasping at how big he felt in your hand, already hard for you. “Fuck,” he sputtered, choking on his drink.

Stepping back you tugged on his belt loops, pulling him through the kitchen and into the living area. Pushing him by his chest onto the nearest couch and climbing onto his lap, straddling him.

He looked puzzled, no one ever being so bold as to take charge of him.

“I've made Vox, the tv demon nearly speechless,” you praised yourself, “I deserve a reward” your voice like rich silk.

He looked at you, his eyes lidded and mischievous. “Lucky you,” he hummed “what kind of reward would you like, doll?”

You looked down, fingers undoing his belt buckle. “I can think of one thing,” you feigned innocence, pouting.

“You name it and it’s yours,” his voice low and sensual, sending heat to your core.

Staring at him, you unzipped his pants reaching your hand in and wrapping your hand around his impressive length. “Can I have this?” your voice dripping with arousal.

“Fuu-uuk, yes,” he gritted through his teeth. His eye contact intense, making you squirm on top of him.

Looking back down you pulled him from his pants, gasping at finally seeing how large he was in your small hand. You pumped him slowly, precum dripping from the tip and onto your hand, making a deep moan rise from his throat.

Removing his hands from your hips he slowly slid them up your sides leaving goosebumps in their wake, his thumbs teasing your nipples, making you shiver at the sensitivity.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, his tone so gentle, it surprised you. leaning forward his lips closed around a nipple, his mouth and tongue hot, making your skin feel flushed.

“Vox,” your breath hitched.

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” His voice strained, your hand still lazily pumping his cock.

“Fuck me until I forget everything bad that happened,” you pleaded.

He stared up at you, his expression unreadable, “I've got you,” he placated, his hands slowly moving to your pussy, already soaked from his hands and mouth on you.

“Are you fond of these?” a sharp claw pulling on your underwear.

“No,” your voice no more than a whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. You gasped when he ripped them before hearing your answer, casting them across the room.

With one hand firmly gripping your hip keeping you in place, the other snaked between your bodies slowly adding a sharp finger into your dripping cunt, pumping in and out at an upwards angle before adding a second.

“I need you to cum for me, doll,” he whispered, watching you intently as your mouth hung open. He sped up, the wet sounds of his fingers inside you filling the room lewdly.

Staring down at him from his lap, he looked sinful. His long legs spread wide under you, chest heaving and crimson eyes lidded, darkly.

“Come on,” he groaned feeling your muscles begin to tighten. With your back arching inward, you flung your head back coming undone on his fingers, soaking them with a cry of his name.

“That’s it, fuck,” he snarled. His arm wrapped around your back pulling you to his chest, the other lining his cock up to your entrance.

“You tell me if I’m hurting you, do you understand?” his voice stern.

“Yes,”’ you moaned breathlessly, still reeling from the orgasm he gave you. You felt the tip slowly enter you, already spreading you open. You knew he was going to be the biggest you’ve ever had, other men or demons falling short in every aspect, compared to Vox.

Pushing down on your ass and snapping his hips upward he pushed himself halfway in. Making you whimper at the bittersweet stretch.

He paused, chest heaving under you “I’m trying so hard to be gentle, doll,” he spat.

“Then don’t,” you whispered into his neck, and like a butterfly’s wings in the flames of a dragon, there was no turning back. Those two words spilling from your lips were all he needed. Grabbing your hips he lifted you above him before slamming you onto his cock mercilessly, making your scream echo off the walls as he bottomed out. “Fuck,” he hissed loudly. Picking up a brutal pace immediately, moans pulled from your lips on every upward snap of his skilled hips.

“You look so fucking pretty on my cock, baby,” his voice was a guttural growl that sent another pool of wetness to your pussy.

“Oh, shit,” he laughed darkly, “you like that?”

His voice was always something you found attractive, but a growl from him sent your mind and body spiraling out of control.

placing your arms around his neck for support you leaned forward, giving him a better angle to thrust up, hitting the soft, sensitive spot inside you.

“Vox, it’s too much,” you gasped.

“Take it,” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your hips and lifting and slamming you down onto him repeatedly his strong arms supporting you completely. He looked down between your bodies, watching himself disappear into your soaked cunt with each sharp, upward roll of his hips.

“Fuuuuuuck, you’re going to ruin me aren’t you?” he groaned, grabbing your face and pointing it down between your joined bodies. “Look what you're doing to me,” he snarled.

“Fuck Vox, I'm gonna cum,” you whined, throwing your head back.

“No, no, no. You look at me when you cum, I want to see what I do to that pretty face,” grabbing your jaw in his clawed hand, he held you in front of him.

“Vox please,” you begged, the coil inside you building, begging to break.

“You're fucking mine, say it,” he hissed. His lips curled above his teeth in a malicious, attractive snarl.

You nodded, not breaking the intense eye contact. “I-I’m yours, Vox, all yours,” your voice hoarse.

“You're such a good girl, taking me so well” a loud whine spilled from his throat, his screen distorting between a SMPTE screen before glitching back, his brows furrowed deeply in concentration.

His praise made you come undone, screaming his name over and over as if a wicked prayer to whatever gods would hear you. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him tightly making him studder to a stop, his chest heaving he looked down between your bodies at his soaked cock and pants and back up to you, grinning madly, “Give me one more”

“I can’t, I can’t, please,” you begged.

“I'm wrapped around your finger, doll. Just give me one more and I’ll cum for you” his voice tense.

Hearing those words come from such a potent overlord made you feel dizzy with power. Grabbing onto his shoulders you began a rhythmic bounce on his cock, body trembling with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he choked, guiding your hips and thrusting up shallowly to meet your downward slaps, allowing you some control.

“That's my ggggGg-girlLllll,” his voice distorted. You would never admit it but found it incredibly hot when his voice was affected, making you clentch around him again.

“There it is, doll. Give it to me,” he growled, his pace becoming frantic, his release approaching quickly.

“I'm so close, Vox” you blubbered, tears springing from your eyes at the sensitivity.

“C'mon,” he gritted through razor-sharp teeth, reaching a hand down and rubbing small wet circles on your clit with his thumb, making you explode around him instantly, your cunt gripped him deliciously making him follow suit, cumming deep inside you with a guttural moan of the most sinful corruption. His head fell back onto the couch with a thud. “Fuu-uck,” he sighed gripping your hips to keep you firmly in place. Sitting back up he stared at you, not taking his eyes off yours, both of you not needing words. The room filled, only with your combined, soft panting.

“Mmmm,” he hummed. “You're a dangerous woman”

You stared down at him in utter awe, no man or demon had been able to give you one orgasm let alone the three Vox just gave. He was a tireless sexual partner, skilled in the ways of pleasure to make up for where he fell short in maintaining emotional relationships. Your mind reeling, you realized you were sitting where thousands of other women, men, and demons only dreamed of being, but here you were, his cock still snuggly inside of you.

Grabbing you by the back of the neck, he pressed you to his chest, “This didn't change how I feel, doll,” his voice was dangerous, with an obsessive undertone.

“It was worth a try,” you said quietly into his chest. “Also, I don't understand how your dick fits in these tight pants”

He laughed loudly and unbridled the sound vibrating through his chest.

“I’m so fucked,” he sighed, his laughter trailing off.

“Do you still need a date for the event?” you asked, sitting back up. His cock starting to soften inside you making his cum leak from you slowly.

Clearing his throat dramatically “Ahem, Yes, will you do me the honor of being my lovely, date tonight, miss” raising his eyebrows and putting on his best showbiz smile, handsome as ever.

“However could I say no,” you clutched your

chest innocently, batting your eyelashes

[morganwrites12672]

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe realizes he needs to get clean. You help him start the journey.

Warnings: Drug Abuse Mentions, Withdrawal, cursing, etc, if any of this triggers you please do not read it.

A/N: This is what won my recent poll, so enjoy! Also, please reblog or leave a comment, this fic was not easy to write and took a lot of time.

--------------------------------------------------------

Rafe woke up not knowing where he was. He opened his eyes to a light grey wall facing him. He winces as he feels the pounding headache from last night's festivities. The last thing he remembered was doing a line of coke with Topper.

He soon sees a familiar hoodie draped on the back of a chair and realizes he's in your bed. You weren't at the party so he can't figure out why the hell he would be in your room.

He gets out of bed and walks toward the door before opening it and walking out into the hallway. He hears noises in the living room and walks in there to find you, pacing on the phone.

You look at him and speak into the phone, "Oh, he just woke up I'll text you later." Before setting down the phone and crossing your arms.

You were not happy to say the least. But you couldn't be mad at Rafe. It wasn't his fault. You were mad at the world.

"I, what happened?" Rafe stumbles over his words. He clasps his hands together to prevent you from notving.how badly they were shaking. His heart was beating out of chest over worrying about how he found you.

"I got called to the party by a very coked out Topper to take you home. Rafe, we need to talk about this," you say and Rafe knows exactly what you mean.

He sits on the couch and you take a seat a few inches away from him. You reach out to take his hand and he gladly grasps yours.

"I need to quit, I cant. I can't get through the withdrawl," he says while looking at the floor. You nod before speaking.

"You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop. And I won't stay around while you do it. But if you want to get clean, if you really do, I will help you every step of the way," you say as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks.

"I don't want you to have to do-" you cut him off.

"Rafe, I love you and I will help you get through it," you state and he nods as a tear slips down his face.

"You know how bad it's going to be?" He asks before looking you in the eye for the first time that day.

"We can handle it," you promise and he nods.

--------------------------------------------------------

It has been three days since Rafe had began getting clean. The worst day so far. But it wouldn't be the worst day to come.

Rafe had barely left the bed at all. He couldn't stay awake and he was barely eating. He felt like shit all day but you stayed by his side.

But today was when the anger set in. You both knew it would happen. Rafe had a little bit of a temper and the withdrawal would definitely bring it you.

"God Y/N, why do you care so fucking much?" He screams at you. The only thought going through his head was how he was going to get more coke. He needed the relief.

"Rafe, I'm not going to fight with you. This is the withdrawal, not you." You state and manage to keep from bursting into tears.

"You don't care about me, you just care about feeling good about yourself!" He yells, "You just want to fix me! Well guess what you bitch? I don't need to be fucking saved!" He screamed before running off to your guest room and slamming the door.

You let out a shaky breath as a tear slips down your face. Seeing Rafe like this hurt so much. Your heart was being ripped to shreds from the inside out from seeing him like this.

But it would all be worth it. Rage would get clean and he would go back to the man you fell in love with. You had spent hours on Google and from what you learned the worst of the withdrawal would be over soon.

After an hour, Rafe begins to calm down. He realizes how fucked up the things he yelled at you were. The immense out of guilt in his stomach made him want to throw up.

He ran to the bathroom as the overwhelming wave of nausea over took him. After finishing vomiting and cleaning off his face (and quickly brushing his teeth), he needed to find you.

He left your guest room and went straight to your room. He knocked before opening the door to see you.

He shut the door behind him before crawling into bed with you. You wrap your arms around him as he cries.

"I'm the one who should be hugging you, I-I said all of those. Those horrible things about you," he cries into your shoulder.

You snake your hand under his shirt to run soothing circles on his back, "Rafe, it's okay." A few silent tears slip down your cheek as you soothe your lover.

"It's going to be okay Rafe," you say in an almost whisper.

He feels his eyes get heavy as his breathing slows before he falls asleep on your chest. You look down at his peaceful figure and smile. He would have a little peace for now.

He was getting paler and you could already tell he was losing weight. His eyes stayed droopy and unfocused, he never stopped fidgeting. It pained you to see him have to suffer like this.

But you would help him get through it.

[dramaticvhs]

5 sterek fic recs

here are some fics I've read recently that I encourage you to check out!! I've enjoyed all of them immensely and I hope you will too :)

all are completed unless stated otherwise. please check tags before you read, some contain sensitive content.

Thirty Messages by Julibean19

(Teen and Up, 16k, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

“Look. I think my friend is obsessed with you… or your cell phone at the very least. And if your stupid fucking voice saying the same two words is all he’s ever gonna have of you, then you have to let him go. You don’t let him get attached and you don’t drag it out. If you hurt him, or lead him on, even just a little bit, I swear to God I will kill you. So call him back, and end it.”

In which Derek leaves town with Cora, and Stiles thinks he might be going insane... because no one would leave this many rambling voicemails for someone they weren't even dating... right?

what a big heart i have (better to love you with) by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

(Teen and Up, 20k, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Stiles has a massive thing for Derek Hale.

This is not news. Stiles, after all, has been carrying a torch for Derek ever since they bumped into each other at a taco cart at the start of his freshman year.

But what is news? With no hope of ever capturing Derek’s attention, Stiles is thinking it might be time to let that torch go. Try to let it burn out.

(Derek might have something to say about that.)

Derek Didn't Know What To Do But Maybe Stiles Did by tiedtogetherwithadagger

(Teen and Up, 13k, No Archive Warnings Apply)

He let his head fall onto Stiles’ shoulder with a sigh of relief. He wasn't losing his pack, at least not tonight. Erica would be okay.

“Thank you,” Derek exhaled into Stiles’ hoodie.

“Always,” Stiles said.

Pack Up; Don't Stray by the_deep_magic

(Explicit, 55k, No Archive Warnings Apply)

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

Bad Dreams by Smowkie

(Mature, 5.7k, Graphic Depictions of Violence)

The sword glinted in the moonlight and Stiles groaned as he twisted it in his dad’s stomach.

“Please stop,” John said weakly, blood trickling down his cheek. “Please, Stiles, stop.”

It felt so good, though, and Stiles sucked in a breath as the euphoric rush of pain and fear from his dad filled him. He grinned and John flinched. “I don’t think I will,” Stiles said.

Stiles woke up with a gasp and he sat up and pushed the cover off himself, sweat making his t-shirt cling to his torso. Counting his fingers he slowly started to breathe normally again, and when the panic attack wasn’t threatening to take over he rubbed his face and looked at the time. 4 am. Well, three hours of sleep was better than nothing.

I made this list a month ago and forgot to post it... oops.. If you're up to it I always love finding new fics so a comment or reblog with your favorite fics are welcome. also my dms are open for recs :) I'm trying to figure out how to set up my ask box which is not easy in my silly little brain, but maybe it'll be open for recs soon

[skzhocomments]

THE WHITE LILY (Mafia Book #1 - Bang Chan) - Chapter 5 - An eye for an eye

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story!

---

Chapter 5 - An eye for an eye

chapter word count: 1.1k words

"What the fuck is this?" the man screamed, while the tied girls on the floor let out muffled gasps.

The sound of the door opening forcefully could be heard loudly, but no one was able to see anything.

I started coughing up again when that bastard's grip was completely gone from my neck and air was suddenly getting into my lungs. However, my head was still feeling light and my whole body felt weak.

Was it the liquid he forced me to swallow? I wondered, and managed to turn myself on my left side, trying not to choke on my own blood.

"It's Dark in here!" a loud, familiar voice shouted, bringing a slight smile to my face.

A small pat on my back followed soon after, giving me all the reassurance I needed. I was not abandoned. They came, just as they promised they will.

I didn't get the chance to find out who patted my back that night. The lightness in my head was getting too strong, and I passed out just seconds after feeling relief that I was no longer alone.

~

"Argh. Turn off that light, would you?" I grunted as soon as I woke up between the four walls of the room that became my new home barely a week ago.

"Hello to you too, Shade. Feeling good?"

"No, Sky. If you're really curious, my head is fucking killing me. And I'm called Shade for a reason. So please draw the curtains and bring some shade back, will you?"

"No. Light is way better for you right now. Besides, look at the Sky for once."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

"I'm glad you're awake though, everyone was starting to get worried. Especially Jeongin and Chris. And by the way, you look like shit. That guy really did a number on you, huh?" He chuckled and handed me a mirror, letting me examine the dark marks on my face and neck.

"Yea, seems like I really got a good beating."

"Disadvantages of speaking with no filter."

"You should know."

"Touché." He smiled and grabbed the mirror from my hands, giving me a glass of water and a small pill instead.

"Jeongin said to give this to you. For your headache, so you won't be a headache to the rest of us later."

"Thanks." I drank the medicine and handed Seungmin the empty glass.

"You should thank him personally. He was really distraught when he saw the state you were in. The fact that you slept for 5 full days didn't help too much either."

"Wait, I WHAT?" I asked, trying to stand up from the bed quickly, only to fall back down due to the immense pain in my temples.

"Wowowwo- Take it easy. I'll go let everyone know you woke up. Maybe take a shower and brush your teeth in the meantime, you stink."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks. I'm off!" Seungmin waved and left the room.

I went to the dresser and examined myself once again in the big mirror. The bruises were looking even worse under artificial lighting. However, everything looked very well taken care of. My busted lip wore a small plaster that seemed carefully placed on; there was no blood on me; my arm, that I don't even know when or how I managed to hurt, was bandaged with the same care as my lip.

Seeing how good Jeongin took care of me made my heart sink and made tears slowly form into the corners of my eyes.

Just like San used to do. I thought, but quickly hopped in the shower and brushed the thought aside.

~

After showering, I slowly got dressed. My whole body was aching, but thankfully the pain in my temples stopped.

Thanks for the happy pill, Jeongin.

Walking back into the room, I was greeted by someone I didn't expect to see yet standing on my bed.

"Chris." Was all I could say before he got up and ran to me, taking me into a strong embrace.

He let go of me and looked at the bruises, brushing his fingers on each of them.

"fucking bastard" he muttered under his breath and caressed my face. "But don't worry, baby, I made him pay for daring to lay his fingers on you. In fact, I made sure to break each and every one of his fingers, one by one, for each small bruise you had. I counted them with Jeongin."

"He did great..." I pointed to the carefully bandaged arm.

"Mhm, he did. He's a very good doctor."

"So... what else happened to the guy?"

"Oh, yea. I... personally thanked him for bringing you to this state. I stumped on his arms, his legs, and I finally pulled a bullet through his head yesterday morning when I saw how pathetic he was begging me to let him die." He said with a dark smile. "And after he gave us all information we needed, of course."

Right, he's a mafia boss. I almost forgot that for a second.

"And the girls...?"

"They're safe now. These past few days you were asleep we managed to eradicate the whole Knife Devils. Might still be a few bastards hanging on, but we'll catch them in no time."

"Mhm." I nodded.

"Now to the more important things: how are you feeling?"

Chan closed the distance between us and pulled me in for a kiss, making my knees grow weak again.

"I thought we'd lose you for a second." He said in a low voice.

"But you didn't. I'm here."

"The bastard gave you some sort of drug – Jeongin was glad he found the flask on him, he managed to find a counter for the poison. But you still weren't waking up."

"Thank you for coming for me. I thought you'd left me there for a second." I confessed.

"I will never leave you." He said sternly, before kissing me again.

I gave into him completely, letting him explore my mouth with his tongue, feeling the ecstasy each of his kisses were bringing me.

~Present Day~

Looking back on it, I should've noticed that I was falling way too fast, way too hard, and that this strong urge to have him flushed over me like a tsunami would only drown me. I wanted more.

I should've known then how dangerous that was. I was oblivious that his kisses were poison. How couldn't I notice just by the euphoria they made me feel?

I should've known it was too good to be true.

But the sad thing is, even if I knew, it probably wouldn't have mattered. As long as it was him, I would've been happy to stay oblivious. I would've gladly drunk any poison.

I should've known then that he wouldn't do the same for me.

It was not poison that I was tasting on his kisses, but heartbreak.

I should've wanted less.

---

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

[orionchildofhades]

steddie swapping soulmate au part 12

part 1 | [...] | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | Ao3

-

Robin is seriously panicking.

Like full on panic attack type of panic, I cannot remember how to breath type of panic. The my-soulmate-is-a-man-and-men-are-definitely-not-for-me-to-not-say-gross type of panic.

Not only that, but she woke up in the body of one Steve fucking Harrington, rising star of Hawkins High, popular in thousands of way, playing thirty billiards of sports and hanging with twice that number of people and being flooded with interested girls and-

Robin needs to breath.

In for four, hold, out for eight.

Again.

This is just fine.

Please make it be just fine.

Make Robin's body fall suddenly in a coma or something and Harrington unable to attend school and broadcast to the rest of the universe his link with Robin.

Please.

She dries her tears in front of the mirror, unwilling to do much in the body she currently is in.

She hates it.

She doesn't have something against men as themselves. Well, she does, and in several forms and ideas, but the point remain is, she doesn't hate men. But having to stand in a body so profoundly foreign, so different from hers. It feels awful.

And she has to spend the day like that, and change, and interact with people. And she has to speak to Harrington before he makes a big mess out of everything but everything is already a big mess and-

In for four, hold, out for eight.

At school, half an hour late and running madly around in search for her own body, rushing through the corridors to the room she is supposed to be, she run directly into someone chest.

"You good Harrington?"

She looks at the other person's face, feeling weird out to not have to look up. Eddie Munson is looking attentively at her, big brown eyes shifting from curiosity to concern for a brief second before settling on a strange light not unlike recognition.

Robin doesn't have time for that!

"Soulmate business," She blurts, too preoccupied by the idea of Harrington running rampage in her body around school, doing God's know what and saying probably an immense amount of bullshit.

In for four, hold, out for eight.

"Then by all means," Munson slightly bow, something akin to a smile on his lips, "good luck."

And Robin is rushing by without another thought.

She finds herself before her room, looking at her timetable with a nervous look. Harrington looks up from it at the sound of her footfalls and follows the strangest thing Robin has ever lived.

Harrington, with her face, seems to melt with relief. It's strange because her face doesn't do that, doesn't just shift from a nervous look, to a unbelievably blank one to this.

And of all the things she had expected of him, this was not it. Tease, flirt, inappropriate comments maybe about waking up in her body and-

Oh God, she went to bed shirtless last night.

Her cheeks heat up and the odd response from Harrington erases itself from her thoughts.

Without waiting for him to speak, which he was clearly about to do, she grabs his wrist, hers?, and drags him out of the school. To hell with class and the world.

She might just commit murder today.

Because nothing else strikes her fancy, and because she is self-sabotaging if nothing else, she brings Steve beneath the bleachers of the court.

Bad, bad idea.

Honestly reading her own face way harder than it should be. But there is definitely an air of excitement and blind hope, so eager and honest. It takes Robin off guard, her blood already bubbling with anger. It kind of cut off the whole speech she was preparing and a sudden feeling of guilt.

And for a second it's all too much.

Since the day began she had been in a fair state, frantic and erratic, fear and adrenaline fighting in her veins. All kind of thoughts flying in her head, tumbling against one another, coming and going, spiraling.

"I don't like you," she blurts out, and it's not loud, nor angry. More like a bland fact, cold and just, there.

She closes her eyes when she sees Steve recoil, his flinch. Something in his eye dims.

Fuck.

All of the sudden it's all too much. She falls on the ground, limp, her hands closing behind her nape, head fallen between her knees. She feels distantly the tears running down her cheeks.

"I don't like you, I can't like you. You're not-" her voice breaks, "I'm broken."

Harrington has dropped to his knees before her, pain clear on his face. Yet, what predominates is a stark concern. An inviation to speak.

---

here is another chapter!

this will be the last one of October, I leave the stage to the smut writers for kinktober and i'll come back by November for some more content.

(and with a HP fic on ao3 if anyone is intrested)

loads of love to you

[eolewyn1010]

OH MY GOD you guys, I know my blog has a bit much Ancient Rome theme on it lately because I'm currently deep in three different researches and have temporarily lost my mind, but I gotta tell you of this one, it just made my day:

So, there's my dude Publius Clodius Pulcher, being a tribune, making a hobby of shitting all over Cicero (which I applaud), you know, your average day in politics. It's 58 BC, and Clodius woke up and chose the principles of the welfare state ANARCHY. The grain laws? Those that the patricians were complaining about already because it was alas such a burden to the state to keep grain prizes and qualities stable, and it made the plebs lazy not to have the bare minimum of their existence at risk when they wanted to, y'know, eat even though the measure every adult Roman citizen was rationed just about covered the needs of one single man when in reality most of those had families to feed and needed to work fucking hard anyway?

Yeah, my most blorbest Clodius took a look at this and cried bullshit. Actually, we should give them guys their rations for free. So they can invest the money in not having their wives and kids starve. Wouldn't that be cool if sustainment security went up? People would be less pissed in general, we could tell around what an awesome government we are, and we could get economics to pick up speed as we stuff some of our money into the provinces in exchange for more grain deliveries so they look less... provincial.

And the citizens are like, oh boy, Clodius, that's neat! I'll just set my slaves free then. They'll still work for me because they need something to earn their living with, and I have work enough to do, but they'll get a few citizen rights as freedmen, including the right to get grain rations. That way, a good chunk of the duty to feed them falls to the state! Hurray! Everyone's fed, my slaves are former slaves now, what a great idea that was. Write them all down on the list so we don't forget anyone in the distributions. And Clodius goes, I'll do so ASAP! And writes all their names down in the grain lists, and stores the lists in the temple of the nymphs because feeding citizens is Rome's holy duty, so into the sanctuary the lists go.

Along comes Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus on this fine day! And he's like, Clodius, my man. Look, we now have this big amount of new mouths to feed, and none of them pay for their rations. You just. Give them food for free. That means we have to pay! And that means I can't buy that ridiculously expensive new house on the Palatine hill / build a theater that bears my name / invest in my next war as quickly as I want to. So how about we just. Amend that list a little. See, those freedmen aren't really Roman citizens anyway. They are just slaves+. Hell, I was able to buy or sell the most of them in the forum only a week ago! Shouldn't they be grateful already that they can't be bought anymore? Now we also give them things for free? Come on. Let's keep this in a small circle.

And Clodius, my most blorbest. Goes: Bitch say WHAT

And so Pompeius doesn't get his greedy hands on these lists.

Clodius, my darling. The nutjob. The madman.

Goes and SETS THE FUCKING TEMPLE OF THE NYMPHS ON FIRE.

Talk about taking a hammer to that hard drive. Can't amend lists when there are no lists, amirite? He probably couldn't find a bigger middle finger to show to Pompeius that day. Message received: No tampering with the Clodian law reforms.

Did he do it just to ingratiate himself with the plebs for the next elections? Yes, definitely.

Did it work? Yes, absolutely.

Does the imagination of Pompeius' aghast expression at this total punk ruining his day with some casual sacrilege out of sheer spite make me immensely happy? Yes!

[swoomoo]

Session 1

Amare Belmont

November 2nd, 2023

I used my shadows last night and fear that it might have been a mistake. It immediately left its mark on me and I woke up today with an immense hunger. I cannot share this with Vesper. He needs to not doubt my decisions. The whole pack need not to.

I made my decision and succeeded, that is all that matters. Still, it was too much for me to contain. I left early into the night to hunt. I knew he would be there. That sad blood I had been stalking. It wasn't my preferred flavor but I was hungry. Seeing it stumble to the closest bar in such a sad state made me angry. It had been this way for so long. Grieving but never wanting to move on. He was weak and it killed me inside.

I killed him for it. I thought it was the right choice. We can all be a bit irrational when we get hungry but that man was a failure. He refused to improve himself and wasted the air of others around him.

I dumped him next to a dumpster. It looks like his unhealthy heart couldn't handle the strain the cold weather put on him. I hope Vesper doesn't find out.

Afterward we met at the office. The whole pack was there. I was surprised Niccolo would show up anywhere that didn't have valet. While they were there I introduced them to Koda. I listened very carefully to see if any of them would call him a ghoul. I will immediately correct them if they try. Thankfully none of them did.

Niccolo's little rat showed up too. I didn't think much of it but Vesper was clearly bothered by this. I enjoy he has learned to pick up the slack when needed. He is truly wonderful. He even questioned her and let his beast out a bit. I thought for a moment he was a hunter again. I of course followed up and tried to make her nervous. I am less trusting than Vesper so if he could sniff out something from her then of course I was ready to fight.

She said she recently moved her from South America. Her name is Martha and she is a Banu Haqim. Nothing seemed off but we will of course keep a closer eye on her for now. If she is a Banu there have been many reports of them joining the local Sabbat.

Speaking of the Sabbat, Niccolo received a threat via a dumbass chant on a postcard at his front door. This man decides it is in his best interest to reach out to them and try to make peace. Apparently his "family" has done many deals with the Sabbat in the past. He swears to me he has never done that. If I figure out differently I'll make sure Vesper has a nice snack.

We went to the Anarch club not far from the office and immediately saw Deavis once again. Even for a Nosferatu his outfit was hideous. I kid you not, Niccolo immediately says, "Do you know where I can find the Sabbat" out loud. I wanted to stake him. Vesper and Vincent went into the club, probably embarrassed. I needed to know if anyone heard Niccolo. He would have been killed if I left him alone.

Of course a loose-lipped foolish cainite screaming about the fury of the sword comes waltzing over. Niccolo has the audacity to ask for some privacy when they speak. The freak agreed to speak in the back. All we got was stupid cult bullshit. He said the Sabbat was mad they weren't invited.

I made it clear I used to be in the Sabbat to them. I was hoping they would be willing to give up some extra information because of this but unfortunately, here in London they think they are scholars or something.

What bothers me the most about tonight is when I was talking to them, the only thing I could think is how fucking weak they were compared to my old pack. They acted like the Sabbat was a game. I was tortured toward perfection. These idiots think breaking the masquerade makes them gods. The Brujah at the gala could have killed these fucks. I only wish we had gotten to.

We spoke once more to Deavis and met up with Martha. I hope Vincent and Vesper had more luck inside than we did.

[the-resurrection-3d]

rambling thoughts on the finale now that I've watched it again (spoilers, of course)

Even as I was watching initially on the discord, I was shocked by how quickly things were going by -- Luz gets murked not even 25 minutes in, for instance. I've been thinking over the series's cancellation -- I've seen it argued Dana should have cut more stuff out, but in fairness, it's hard having to make drastic cuts in a short amount of time, especially when cutting out certain characters would have meant redoing plot elements, not to mention skipping over or rewriting entire characters' backstories.

I think about Luca vs Encanto -- Luca had a lot of ideas pulled out, whereas Encanto very obviously tried to cram an entire mini-series into one movie. I like Luca better than Encanto for a bunch of different reasons, but I have to ask, Should you try to tell a simpler story better or a truncated story as best as you can? The answer seems apparent, but there is something to be said about Dana putting as much as she could on the table and all but outright asking fans to enjoy rebuilding her vision in their own. It's one thing when certain characters and ideas can be taken and made their own standalone stories, but not everything can, and given the state of the animation industry, the chances of that new show happening would've been slim, anyway.

A show like The Owl House -- a queer story cut short by a company that funded homophobic politicians while chasing woke brownie points for good publicity -- feels like the best-use case for Jenkins's idea of fanfic as repairing culture, as fans are now left to take this obviously compromised text and show our love by doing the reparative work of trying to fill in the cracks. Even if you don't engage with the fandom much, your perception of the text is still informed by these cuts, so there really isn't a reason not to think of the show as the sum of its canon and your own reparative fandom experience.

I compare TOH to SU a lot in my head, and the reason I'm willing to be so forgiving towards TOH for having a lot of dropped threads and blank spots is because, unlike SU/SUF, I don't feel like the creators wasted their time. Arguably there are episodes in season one that can be cut, but it's nothing like SU, which spent just so many episodes across every season prioritizing Steven's relationships to the humans in Beach City and neglecting its actual main cast, only for SUF to then stand up and admit it was all for fucking nothing.

Speaking of SU, though, the Collector fucking off back "to the stars" at the end gave me similar vibes to Spinel leaving with the Diamonds, though I will give SU the point here. Literally why is the Collector leaving when they've just NOW found a support system and friends? When their powers would be immensely helpful for rebuilding the Boiling Isles? "to the stars" TO SEE WHAT. WHOM. even on my first watch I thought this was fucking lame.

My main issue is that I felt like there was a big Belos-Luz beat missing, especially when their confrontation in the throne room was just him saying "oh you can't beat me." I would have rewritten that line, at least. I needed just a little extra, especially since he ended TTT with telling Luz he's doing this "for the good of [her] soul." I loved the death scene though (he's so mentally ill <3), as well as Arin Hanson's Titansona responding to Luz asking if they're "just as bad" as Belos with "do you smoke crack?"

[falaisie]

sorry gotta rant

I'm a little disappointed in some of the writing in jjk. Like, I feel like it doesn't pause enough to give us... anything that's not a fight scene. It just goes from one to another to another to another to another to ANOTHER. It makes things blur together and I don't feel as invested/like they have stakes. This is something I started feeling during the Shibuya incident but at that point it was minor enough that it didn't really bother me so I still really enjoyed that arc (despite the immense pain).

But like, with this gojo vs sukuna fight, it barely makes sense cuz all their attacks and everything with how domains work is overexplained and hard to keep track of, plus having it be explained by all the other characters just watching like some kind of gojo groupies instead of through gojo and sukuna's perspectives as they're deciding what to do is just boring. AND LIKE. CAN I KNOW MORE ABOUT GOJO'S INTERNAL STATE PLEASE? HES LITERALLY FIGHTING MEGUMI'S BODY CAN WE GET ANYTHING ABOUT HOW HE FEELS ABOUT THAT? HOW ABOUT BEING SEALED IN PRISON REALM FOR LIKE TWO MONTHS OR WHATEVER. HOW LONG DID IT FEEL FOR HIM? WHAT KINDS OF EFFECTS IS HE FEELING FROM IT? (He does seem pretty wack mentally like how he was when fighting toji, though not to the same extent, so at least there's that, but it doesn't answer much). Like we literally got one line about it.

And leading up to the fight was disappointing too, a lot of the scenes/pacing (?) started getting really janky to the point where I thought the website I was using was missing/reordering pages cuz stuff was just. Not being explained or shown. EVERYTHING WITH TSUMIKI WAS JUST FUCKIN WEIRD. Like, at the beginning of the culling game arc, we see her eyes open while she's lying in her hospital bed, and then we don't see ANYTHING of her again until she walks into the colony with the rest of the group. Which is fine, but in combination with these other things it added to my problem. Megumi doesn't even react to her being there. Like throughout the entire fucking series he's been worried about her coma and now she just strolls up and he doesn't say anything? There was all this build up about saving Tsumiki and we weren't even shown that Megumi was aware she woke up. But then in a really random flashback, we're shown a scene between her and Megumi and its like??? When did that happen, what is the reason for this scene, why are we being shown this as a flashback instead of when it actually happened, why is the present moment playing out this way if that scene happened? It's just so disjointed.

There was also a scene with tsumiki, ijishi (who I had forgotten was even still alive), and maki all entering the colony and again, it just felt off like scenes were omitted. Like how did we get from her opening her eyes in the hospital to her walking around with ijishi and maki? ANYWAY THE POINT IS, the structure of the chapters was just. Questionable. (ALSO inumaki, miwa, and nishimiya show up out of literally nowhere??????? 😭😭)

K BACK TO GOJO FOR A SEC. When his seal was broken, he was wherever yuuji and the group was, then suddenly with no transition panels or anything, he's standing next to sukuna. Like sure we know he can basically teleport with limitless but he was LITERALLY just unsealed??? Like does he not have a moment of "oh what the hell I'm outside again." Everything that's not a fight scene just feels rushed.

Also what was the reason to push the fight to December 24th other than to give him and geto the same death anniversary. They had the conversation and then it immediately time skipped to the day. Why weren't we shown anything in between? We could've seen him reuinite with his students, react to what happened in Shibuya, learn about his time in prison realm, ACKNOWLEDGE NOBARA. ETC. DEVISE A PLAN TO FIGHT SUKUNA SO SOME OF THAT SHIT WOULDNT HAVE TO BE EXPLAINED DURING THE FIGHT. ANYTHING.

Anyway whatever I just had to get my thoughts out. It's really a shame cuz I still really like the series but it just really falls flat sometimes. And now gojo's fuckin dead and I barely feel anything cuz I'm annoyed the fight was boring. I'm hoping maybe I'll find it easier to follow in the anime, and maybe they'll restructure some scenes, that's years from now of course but still.

[rose-teeth]

idk ive complained abt this before but sometimes i get so exhausted with western feminists, i truly do. especially when it comes to the sex work thing. their god damn postmodern imperialist ideology supoorted by the billion dollar/euro university industry has become international law, has been legally implemented in western europe, and outside of their stupid theoretics they have essentially legalized the systemic trafficking into sexual slavery of. my people. of mainly, balkan women and girls. in the same states which are making money off of my peoples cheap or unpayed labour anyway. and, lol as someone who just so happens to have been a child prostitute and know what sexual slavery is, i find this, immensely distressing.

and. yet. i am out here still trying to reach across the isle, not immidietely insulting them, still trying to make the effort to educate when they could do it themselves if they werent so damn privileged and entitled and they actually give a shit. im still out here trying to ~concousness raise and believe in ~female solidarity. and yet. and yet. the western wokie girlies choking on their own privilege wanna tell ME i should kill myself, i should die, that im evil and "hate sex workers." They wanna cancle me lmao, when i have every right to cancle them for supporting slavery for the rest of their lives, except i dont believe in the canceling shit. They still have the fucking gull to speak down to me and over me and not give a single damn shit what any woman who aint the privileged 1% of """sex workers""" they only ever care about. what does it matter that poor nonwestern women and children are being trafficked because of their fucking ideology. what does it matter that its balkan and refugee women and children. what does sexual slavery matter, what do sex trafficking victims matter, what do girl-children sexually enslaved matter.....,,,,,, im so fucking tired of them, i truly am. And their performative wokeness on top of it all drives me up walls. Some just have the privilege of not knowing better, but so many are just. so fucking entitled and selfish and they only give a shit abt themselves, and abt nonwestern women only when what we say fits their fucking narrative

[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

I shouldn’t have checked my phone when I accidentally woke up. Now I’m fucking depressed and won’t go back to sleep. Trump hasn’t officially won yet but he has won. And I don’t know what to do. This feels so horrifying and dangerous for so many people. I know that I will probably be ok but I don’t care about just myself. I am most scared for trans people right now, my brother is trans so that’s the main thing on my mind above everything else but..

I am so scared for all people who aren’t white because Trump’s hate empowers the hate of others and racism is going to run rampant. I’m Filipino and Mexican, but sometimes I can pass as white. So that makes me safer? Yes. Because some people have no way to hide even if hiding isn’t something they’d ever try to do.

I’m scared for people who can get pregnant because we’ve already lost so many reproductive rights and even if Trump leaves it up to the states it can only get far worse before it gets better. I’m safer in this aspect only in the way that I live in New York where abortion is accessible. I’m very honest on this site that I’m a survivor of rape and I’m immensely lucky to have been living in California when it happened and that it happened when Roe v. Wade was still upheld. I can’t imagine the pain of someone who doesn’t have the rights to take care of themselves should anything at all occur that requires an abortion. There are people also, who do very much want children who will not be safe to get pregnant because any complications could lead to a hospital choosing a fetus over the life of the person carrying it.

I’m scared that the rights of Queer people will be stripped away. Marriage equality, adoption rights, discrimination, a rise in hate crime… I’m scared for trans people who are being so openly targeted right now. For trans children who are being focused on so closely. I can’t think too hard on how many will be hurt by Trump’s words and actions without crying. How many will face horrendous treatment, how many will closet themselves out of self-preservation, how many will face violence, how many will lose hope?

I’m scared for immigrants, and Jewish people and Muslims.

I’m probably forgetting demographics of people, not because I don’t care about them but because there is too much fear to be able to see its extent all at once.

How could this many people vote for someone that can cause this much fear and destruction? He is a convicted felon, a facist and a rapist. Some people voted for him because they are prejudiced and this is everything they want. What is more upsetting is that some people voted for this man because they knew all of this and they just don’t care about anyone but themselves. I can almost understand people who are just plain evil voting for another evil but to think of all the people who I might otherwise see as basically good who actually only care about themselves and would condemn this many other people for the sake of whatever they think they can get out of this for themselves? It’s so horrifying and disheartening.

I don’t want to go to protests and put myself on the line. I’m scared. But I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever I have to do.

I’m just so sad and scared that we’re here.

[wastedtimcs]

Cher's Revenge

Dorian never imagined his night would turn out this way. He expected to have a quiet night to himself but that plan was quickly disrupted when he answered his door to see Daveed and a few other guys who he recognized worked for Cher. 

‘𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘖𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴.’ Confusion struck Dorian’s features at Daveed’s remark. He couldn’t even ask for clarification before the men started to push their way into his empty home. 

The pain he felt was so immense and like nothing he’d ever felt before. He tried to put up a fight but the odds were stacked against him from the start. 

His body fell to the floor and he laid there almost lifeless after the wooden bat connected with the back of his head. The kicks to his stomach and sides were barely felt as his whole body was numb with pain. 

‘𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩! 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥!’ Daveed sounded stressed as he saw Dorian’s body covered in blood and almost lifeless on the floor. He knelt down to check if the man was still alive. ‘𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰.’ They were gone as quick as they came and Dorian was laying face down in the middle of his foyer.

After an eventful night of celebrating Chlöe’s birthday, Amara was excited to return home to Dorian. She had been staying at his place ever since their return from Paris, and the perks of having a key was something she quickly got used to. 

She decided not to drink as much as she planned; having to drive herself home and dropping off Chlöe who had to be escorted into hers. The drive was pretty long, and Amara didn’t waste any time exiting her car and approaching the front door. The key turned in the lock, and as she opened the door the woman expected to be greeted by Poseidon, who usually stood in the foyer waiting for her to enter. However, Amara was greeted with an image that made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. 

There Dorian laid in the middle of the foyer, body lifeless, with blood covering his face and staining the marble floors. Amara didn’t know if he was breathing, and it only took her a few seconds to snap out of her frozen state to quickly approach him. “Oh my G—” dropping every item in her hand, the woman dropped to the floor and crawled over to her boyfriend.

“Dorian. . . Dorian!!” She called his name, each time her voice rose in fear. The closer she got to him, the more she realized how bad his condition was: His face was swolen, skin covered in blood. Quickly taking action, Amara cradled him in her arms hesitating to touch his face. “Dorian wake up, please!” The tears had already began to fall, her words fighting through helpless sobs.

𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙮? The question continuously repeated in her mind, along with the frightening thought of whether he was even alive.  She needed help quickly, waiting any longer for any signs of life wouldn’t benefit him. Amara quickly reached for her phone next to her, calling the ambulance in a frantic state. The emergency dispatcher on the other line spoke calmly, trying her best to collect as much information as she could while Amara yelled in complete distress. 

“Just fucking get them here!! I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if he’s breathing, there’s blood everywhere!” Her eyes shifted to the blood on her hands and clothing, coaxing her to tell the disaptcher to hurry up with sending help. Everything had been going so well for them. After reuniting and reviving their relationship, Amara would have never thought their little world would come crashing down around them yet again.

“I love you, baby. I’m right here... Please wake up!” Amara’s sobs continued, as the red and blue lights of the ambulance flashed through the wide open front door of the home.

It was three days later when he finally woke up. 

Eyes slowly opened to the bright florescent lights of the hospital room. Fear overcoming him as confusion clouded his brain. 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗺 𝗜? 𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁? The questions just kept coming until his eyes were fully open. He glanced around the room as he tried to sit up. 

“Ah!” His efforts were met with pain so he laid back down with a small groan. His right leg was slightly elevated and in a brace, his left arm was also in a sling. His head was bandaged and his face covered in various little cuts. He’d broken several ribs on each side of his body. It was safe to say that Cher really did keep her ‘promise’.

Amara hadn’t left Dorian’s side since the tragic incident. After he was taken to the hospital, she contacted his family, who all rushed out of their homes that night to see him. It was as if a dark cloud had fell over them, no one ever expected something like this to happen to Dorian. 

Amara remembered hushed conversations amongst his relatives on who could have harmed Dorian, and what their plan was to figure it out. However, Amara only focused on when her love would open his eyes.

It took 3 days. Amara had gotten the phonecall from the hospital that morning, informed on Dorian’s current health status. He was fully awake and talking. Unfortunately, when Amara asked if he mentioned her at all, the doctors failed to give her the answer she wanted. 

Quickly walking down the hospital halls, Amara’s stomach fluttered in anticipation to seeing Dorian again. She couldn’t wait to see him, talk to him, and most importantly take him back home with her. Quietly she stepped into his room, the nurse politely closing the door behind them for privacy. “Dorian.” She spoke softly as she approached his bed, a small smile on her lips as she saw him sitting up in bed. “I’m so happy you’re awake, baby.” She was on the verge of tears.

Dorian was thankful to the nurses who had come in to make him more comfortable once he woke up. They were patient with him as he questioned them relentlessly. He was still very confused and a little frightened when he didn’t remember how he’d ended up this hurt. He calmed down once they informed him that his girlfriend was on her way to see him. 

He was so excited to finally see a familiar face. Especially someone he loved. He hoped that she had the answers to all his questions because he surely didn’t and all of it was starting to make his head hurt. 

They finally helped him to sit up comfortably and got him some snacks to munch on as he awaited her arrival. ‘𝘚𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.’ His smile widening at the nurses confirmation of his girlfriends arrival. But it quickly began to diminish when he was left alone with a complete stranger.

“Um… I think you have the wrong room.” He was under the impression that his name wasn’t very popular but of course there had to be other ‘Dorian’s’ in the world. “I’m not your ‘Dorian’ or your ‘baby’.” 𝗪𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗻? 𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗱��𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻? “I don’t mean to be rude but I don’t know you.”

She was expecting his smile, his sweet words and compliments whenever he saw her, and most importantly how much he missed and loved her. Instead Amara was greeted with a confused Dorian staring back at her.

She watched as he attempted to move his restrained body away from her touch. For a second she thought he was joking, but the concerned and confused look in his eyes told something very differently. This clearly wasn’t the man she fell in love with. 

“What?… Dorian, it’s me.” She paused for a second to let it sink in for him. Nothing. ‘𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 ‘𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣’ 𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 ‘𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮’ Her heart could have shattered right then and there, an understatement to the feeling she felt in her chest at his words. He had no clue who she was, and she didn’t know what to do. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, the door opened and his doctor walked in, clipboard in hand. ’𝘔𝘴. 𝘉𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.’ 

“What the hell is wrong with him?” She turned to his doctor in anger. No one had warned her about this over the phone. ‘𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘐 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘋𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.’ As if this situation couldn’t become any worse than it already was. Their relationship, trips, dates, romantic moments… they meant nothing now. Amara couldn’t control the tears that escaped. 

She turned to look at Dorian, love and sympathy in her eyes. She was devasted, how would she care for someone who suddenly knew nothing about her? ‘𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵.’

Dorian looked at her with furrowed brows as she continued to try and convince him, maybe even herself, that they knew each other. He shook his head and just as he was about to apologize again the doctor entered. 

𝗠𝘀. 𝗕𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘆? Dorian did his best to listen in on their conversation but he could only pick out a few words here and there. He glanced around the room but eventually his eyes landed back on who he now knew as Ms. Bailey. He couldn’t deny that she was beautiful and he liked how fiery and passionate she was as she spoke to his doctor. He quickly shook his head to himself as if to wipe the ‘wrong’ thoughts from his head. 

“Is my girlfriend here yet?” Dorian voice broke through their conversation. “The nurses said that she was on her way.“ He looked to the doctor before glancing at the other woman. “Cataleya Moreno.”

𝘾𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙮𝙖 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙤, a name that haunted their relationship ever since she came back into the picture. It was the last thing Amara needed to hear today. How much of his memory was lost? Cataleya and Dorian hadn’t been together for over a year, if she was all he remembered at this point, only God knows how much memory the doctors had to recover.

‘𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘺𝘢?’ The doctor asked with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s his ex girlfriend.” Amara answered under her breath as she gazed at her lover. She couldn’t believe how much of a stranger she truly became to him. “Dorian… you and ‘Leya broke up over a year ago.” She corrected him, managing to keep her voice soft to not cause any panic. 

‘𝘋𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯, 𝘸𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵. 𝘈𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺.’ Hearing the doctor talk to him only frustrated Amara more. He was sugarcoating his condition. ‘𝘞𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦.’

‘𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐𝘧 𝘈𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘴’ Giving them a moment of pivacy, his doctor quietly left Dorian’s room. 

Amara stood next to his bed in silence, deep in thought as she tried to figure out what to say and do next. He had just woken up a few hours ago, and the last thing she wanted to do was stress him out with questions. “Umm… I— I know this is probably all weird to you right now, but when I came home the other night I saw you on the floor covered in blood. I don’t know what happened, or who did it to you but I thought you were dead.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?” She locked her glossy eyes with his.

He felt as though his head was going to explode. This was a lot of information coming at him all at once. 

Him and his girlfriend were broken up? He had head trauma? He lost his memory? He was severely injured? 

He looked like a lost puppy as he tried his best to process everything as the doctor left the room. Amara’s voice broke him from his thoughts. 𝗔𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗮. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲. A moment passed before he shook his head. “I don’t remember anything. It’s all just vague flashes of me with my family and my girlfr— with Leya.” A look of sadness washed over his features. 

“You said… when you came home?” He questioned softly as he looked to her. “Do we live together? Are we… married?” Now it was his turn to ask questions and he had a lot of them. “What happened to Leya? Where’s my family?”

“No, no we’re not married.” She shook her head. The sadness in Dorian’s eyes broke Amara’s heart. She could only imagine how much of a hard time he was having at the moment. “Um, a few weeks ago you gave me a key to your place while we were in Paris.” She had hoped her explanation brought back something for him to reflect on. “You showed up there to surprise me while I was working.”

There weren’t any specific signs that showed he remembered any of it. Then, Dorian brought up Cataleya again. “I called your family to let them know you were awake, and they’re going to come see you once we get you home.” She didn’t know how to explain his current relationship with Leya, last time she checked the two weren’t on good terms.

“Leya… I’m not sure how she’s doing now, but you two haven’t spoken to eachother in a while.” She sighed heavily. “The last time we were all together, we were planning on telling her that we were dating and… things didn’t turn out well.” A part of Amara actually felt guilty, however she wasn’t sure why. The man in front of her wasn’t in love with her, but with his ex, and it almost felt like she was intruding.

He let out a soft sigh as he started to realize this wasn’t some weird dream that he’d wake up from. This was his new reality and he wasn’t sure what took place to get him to this place with this person. Amara. 

He felt horrible for her, she looked so sad and almost defeated. He wondered how they ended up together and what their relationship was like. Did he love her? Did she love him? Was it toxic at all? 

“I wanna go home.”