#In that moment you see the pain in his eyes

[obxsummer]

P4L // JJ Maybank

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: aka the season 4 ending the audience and pogues deserved.

warnings: S4P2 SPOILERS

navigation -- goy series masterlist

ask me anything

--

Morocco was proving to be one hell of a challenge for all of you. Every corner had more of your friends pulling off to play defense or act as a distraction. Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had left in an attempt to hold off the mercenary crew, leaving you, JJ, and Rafe to finish the mission and find the crown.

With Rafe out on the option to climb, JJ had volunteered which left you all in the current situation. JJ was trying to pull himself up on the stone statue as wind and sand whipped at your faces. 

“Be careful!” You yelled up to him, hoping your voice wouldn’t get carried away before it reached him.

You’d been so heartbroken for JJ over the past few weeks - from losing Poguelandia, finding out Luke wasn’t his dad, all the shit with the gold and Enduro… you could really use a win. JJ deserved a win more than anything. 

“Shit, here they come,” Rafe spoke up as he caught sight of the mercenaries who were catching up. “Stay here! I’ll go down and buy us some time.”

“Rafe, no!” You tried to ignore the pit of fear in your stomach but it was grabbing you tighter than you had ever felt before. “They’ll kill you!”

Rafe shook his head. “I’m a killer too! Got nothing to lose!”

Your face contorted into an odd expression at his response before you let him go and turned your attention back to JJ. He was getting closer and closer to the top but you knew he had no clue what to look for.

“JJ, hurry!” You coughed around the sand in your throat and walked closer to see him better.

After a moment, you could hear him cheer in excitement. “Yeah, baby! We did it!”

You tucked your head down as a particularly strong blast nearly knocked you off your feet. You could barely make out his figure in the storm around you as he stumbled his way toward you. “JJ! We gotta get out of here!”

 “I’m good, I’m good!” He reassured as he got closer. “I’m great, actually.”

He shifted the scarf around his neck to reveal the crown, the Blue Crown, that you guys had risked your lives to get here in search of. 

“Oh my God,” You gasped before cheering in excitement. “Do you know what this means?”

JJ pulled the headwrap off to see you better, his hands moving the crown closer so you could hold it yourself. “We’re getting it back. We’re getting our home back.”

The celebrating was cut short as JJ caught sight of something behind you before shoving the show of you out of the way. A gunshot rang out seconds later, warning enough that the two of you needed to keep moving. 

“Go, go, go. I’ve got ya!” JJ’s hand wrapped itself into yours as he took the lead, weaving the two of you through tunnels and structures before you could even blink. The storm was starting to die down, the wind and sand slowing as you guys moved deeper into the town. 

Your run was cut short as JJ slammed on the brakes and you ran into his back. “J?” You asked, confused before you caught sight of the person in front of him.

Chandler Groff had caused JJ so much pain in the few weeks your group had come to know him. From disowning him as a baby, to almost killing him, and the constant manipulation, you were beginning to wonder if Luke was the lesser of the two evils. Life had been so unkind to JJ and you refused to let this man take anything else from him. 

Groff gave the two of you a wicked smile. His knife gleamed against the sunshine, the reflection coasting your eyes as you realized you were defenseless. He moved the blade closer in your direction. “You know what I want.”

JJ’s grip on your hand tightened. There’s a lot of things he would do if you weren’t here, but you were, and that meant you were his top priority.

“And if we don’t?” You tilted your head, mockingly. It was two against one here, even if he had a shitty knife.

“Then I’ll kill you both and leave your friends to find you in bits and pieces.”

You squeezed JJ’s hand twice, a silent signal that you were ready if he was. “Yeah, not happening.”

The two of you moved in tandem, your leg kicking up to knock the knife from his grip and JJ pouncing forward to pin his so-called father against the stone wall with an aggressiveness you hadn’t seen before. 

Groff groaned as his head slammed into the rough surface, eyes struggling to refocus. JJ leaned closer, his forearm pressing against the man’s throat harder. “Don’t you ever threaten her again, ya hear me?”

When Groff didn’t answer, JJ applied more force, relishing in the way the man groaned in pain. “You’ll regret ever crossing me.”

JJ wasn’t risking it and pulled back before slamming Chandler’s head back, effectively knocking the man unconscious. “Hard pass,” The blond teen spat, giving the man a hefty punch to the head to drive his point home. 

“You okay?” You asked quietly as JJ stared at the form of the man who he was beginning to trust. 

He twitched at the question before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah.” His hand reached back to you, waiting for you to grab on. “Let’s go find our friends and get the hell out of here, yeah?”

You took his offer, kissing him softly before nodding in agreement. “Let’s do it.”

And the two of you ran off, leaving Chandler Groff to bleed out on his own, taking the karma he deserved with him to the grave. You had a treasure to celebrate.

--

a/n: fuck u obx writers and goodbye.

navigation -- goy series masterlist

ask me anything

[rafecameronssl4t]

can u do kinda inspired by new season where Rafe finds out what Sofia did and confronts her and calls her saying get out of his house but it’s bitchy!kook!bsf!reader x Rafe where they’re kinda more than friends and she tells Rafe a lie about Sofia and he believes her and gets super mad at Sofia

Passenger Princess || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: love this idea tysm!!

Warnings: r is manipulative, slight angst

Word count: 1,583

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Wanna come over?” you ask, your voice casual but your eyes lingering on Rafe’s profile, gauging his reaction. He turns his head to you briefly, pausing as the car idles at a red light. Without missing a beat, he reaches over, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb gently across your skin in a way that makes your heart flutter.

But tonight, his words hit you before the warmth of his touch does. “I can’t. Sofia wants to go out later,” he says, his gaze flickering back to the road, oblivious to how your expression shifts instantly. The mention of her name is like a slap, and your expression falters instantly. You let out a scoff, the sound sharp and almost bitter.

Without thinking, you pull your hand out of his grasp and cross your arms over your chest, turning your gaze out the window. The hurt and jealousy you’ve been pushing down surge to the surface, making your chest tighten.“She’s still living with you?” The words leave your mouth more accusatory than you intend, but it doesn’t matter now.

You need him to feel what you’re feeling, to understand just how much Sofia is getting under your skin. Rafe’s eyes flicker to you, his brow furrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything right away. He rolls his tongue against his cheek, his gaze narrowing as he presses down on the gas pedal when the light turns green. You can tell he’s frustrated, but you want him to feel more than that.

“Y/n…” he says, the soft plea in his voice making you grit your teeth. He’s clearly trying to de-escalate the situation, but you’re not having it. His voice falters slightly when he says your name again, as if he’s unsure of how to handle you when you get like this. You don’t respond, eyes fixed on the road, even though you don’t see anything.

Your mind is consumed by the thought of Sofia still lingering in his life. “I don’t understand why you’re still with her!” you snap, turning to face him, your voice sharp with frustration. Your heart races, and you know exactly where this is going. You’ve been waiting for the right moment to make your move. Then, with a practiced vulnerability, you let your eyes soften, allowing tears to well up.

You turn your head slightly toward him, making sure he sees the hurt in your eyes. You know the exact tone to use, the one that cracks just enough for Rafe to feel guilty, to feel like he’s let you down. You draw in a deep, shaky breath, letting your eyes glisten with tears. With a careful tremor in your voice, you speak softly, like you’re letting out something painful. “After everything she did to me…”

Just as you anticipated, Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, confusion and concern filling his expression. His eyes dart between you and the road, brow furrowing as he tries to process your words. “What are you talking about?” You let the tears begin to fall, looking down as though ashamed, your shoulders subtly shaking as you pretend to hold back sobs.

“What did she do to you?” His eyes flickered back and forth from the road to your tear-streaked face, searching for answers. He was desperate, each glance showing his growing frustration and need to understand. “Y/n…” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with an edge of anger that made you shiver. “Tell me—what did Sofia do to you?”

His tone was a mix of urgency and something fiercer, like he was barely holding himself back. You continued to sob, letting your shoulders shake as you turned away, keeping up the act. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he stared ahead, but his entire focus was on you.

~

“Hey babe, what’s up?” Sofia’s voice rings out, saccharine sweet, and it instantly makes you cringe. The way she says it, as if she’s trying to mask something, makes your skin crawl. Rafe’s eyes flicker over to you for a split second, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks, red from how much you’ve cried.

Your heart races, a cold pit settling in your stomach. You’ve made sure Rafe is in the right headspace, pushed all the right emotional buttons, and now it’s time to watch it unravel. Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he presses the phone to his ear, his expression hardening into something unreadable.

The silence that stretches between him and Sofia is palpable. You can feel the tension in the air, the unease settling like a storm cloud. “Rafe… what’s wrong?” she coos, trying to soften the tension. You can tell she’s trying to maintain control, but you know it’s slipping. But Rafe is done. He’s had enough.

“Is it true? Is it true what Y/n just told me?” he demands, his voice suddenly low, razor-sharp. The words are a punch, sharp and deliberate, leaving no room for misunderstanding. There’s a long pause, a dangerous silence on the other end. You can hear Sofia’s shallow breathing, the way she’s stalling, trying to figure out how to save herself.

It’s almost like she’s trying to put on a mask for him, pretending everything’s fine, but you both know it’s not. Sofia’s mind races, the memories of her deal with Hollis flooding in through her mind. “Is what true?” she finally asks, her voice faltering, a hint of nervousness breaking through her usual façade. “Don’t play games with me, Sofia,” Rafe’s voice is firm now, his jaw clenched.

You can feel the weight of his anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to burst. You watch Rafe closely, your chest tight with both anxiety and satisfaction. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to finally see her for what she truly is. And now, it’s all about to come crashing down for Sofia.

On the other end of the line, Sofia’s silence is deafening. You can almost hear her panic, her inability to talk her way out of this one. Rafe’s anger is too much, too raw. And it’s all aimed at her. Rafe can’t contain it anymore. He slams his fist against the steering wheel with a deafening sound, making you jump in your seat.

The force behind it makes the entire car shake, and his anger is now fully unleashed. His knuckles are white, his body tense with fury, and for a moment, you think he might explode. You can see the muscle in his jaw working, his anger mounting as he struggles to keep his cool. The tension in the air is suffocating, and you almost feel bad for Sofia—almost.

You got him here—you’ve got him angry at her, and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” Rafe says through gritted teeth, the words biting and final. His voice is low, full of rage that you can feel in the pit of your stomach. Sofia’s voice cracks on the other end. “What?” Her voice wavers, like she can’t believe what’s happening.

You can practically hear her trying to regain control, but it’s too late. Rafe scoffs, his patience wearing thin. “We’re done, Sofia. Done.” he seethes, his hand slamming against the wheel again with a force that makes the whole car jerk. You jump slightly, but you can’t help the small, satisfied smirk that pulls at the corners of your lips.

“Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house,” Rafe repeats, his voice steady now, but laced with disgust. There’s no room for negotiation, no chance of a second chance. This is it. With one last frustrated breath, he ends the call, the click of the phone punctuating the finality of it all.

[saltylemontears]

camraderie || mv1

summary: come right on me, i mean camraderie...but do you? warnings: FILTHY SMUT, friends to lovers,, no plot just filth, quite rough? a/n: ...i have no idea how this came to be. i feel deeply ashamed. this is honestly just pure horny, please do not interact if you're uncomfortable

you're supposed to be friends. hell, you have been for the past 3 years. but friends don't make out after winning a race, or do they?

friends don't pin each other against walls and slip their tongues in each others mouths, do they? but fuck, you just did.

max's hands wander over your body as he kisses you roughly, tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

you pull away from the kiss and lean down to attach yourself to his neck. you're not sure if you can, but you leave a small purple mark on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

in a moment of clarity, you look up into his eyes, seeing nothing but pure desire. you raise an eyebrow, asking for consent. he responds with a passionate kiss, his hand slipping down under the fabric of your pants.

he kisses your neck while his fingers reach lower and lower, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side. his teeth nip at your sensitive skin, sending little waves of pain contradicting with the pleasure of his fingers on your clit.

you let out a sharp gasp, burying your head in his chest with embarrassment. you feel too much but not enough at the same time. combined with his other hand lightly brushing against your nipples, you're sure you're going to cum soon if he doesn't stop.

"fuck, max," you whisper, breathing heavily, leaning against the wall behind you. he grins. "fuck me, please..."

that seems to switch something inside max because he pulls his hand away carefully and carries you to the couch of his hotel room. the soft pillows feel nice when you fall onto them.

you tug your pants off, seeing max do the same, and fuck, he's gorgeous. he attaches his lips to yours again, lightly biting and you can feel his hard-on press against your thigh, so close but so far from where you need him.

he leaves you again, but comes right back with a condom in his hand. you giggle at the way he's walking around the room butt naked, still seeing him as your best friend more than anything.

his finger dips into the heat of your cunt, collecting some of your wetness, bringing them up to his mouth. you almost moan at the sight of him sucking his own finger clean.

with a kiss to your lips, he lines himself up with your pussy and pushes in with a shudder and holy shit, you have to cover your mouth to not be too loud.

he starts to move, setting a fast pace. you place your hands on his chest, holding onto him like a lifeline.

you feel heat pooling down in your stomach, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer, allowing his cock to reach even deeper inside you.

"oh fuck," he groans, hips snapping against yours, fucking you like it's what he was made to do. he decorates your neck with messy kisses, making sure to leave a few marks as well.

a moan escapes your mouth when he begins to rub your clit again, the pleasure maddening. you feel beads of sweat start to form on your forehead and your climax approaching. max places his lips on yours, swallowing all of your noises.

his fingers on your clit pick up their pace and you cry out, suddently thankful for him silencing you. "i'm so fucking close, max, baby, please don't fucking stop-"

your orgasm washes over you like a massive wave, pussy tightening around his cock and he moans as well, thrusting up into you, overwhelming you with pleasure. with a few more snaps, he spills inside the condom, drops his forehead on yours, completely spent.

you run your hand through his slightly damp hair, letting him rest against your chest. caressing his back, you sense your brain coming back to its normal state.

max groans when he gets off of you. you expect it to be awkward, but really, it's not. it almost feels...natural.

he sits next to you after throwing away the used condom, looking right into your eyes.

you giggle. "gee, at least take me on a date first, verstappen."

[gilbertscurls]

Hiiiii, could you please write a smut about either Chris or Matt over stimulating the reader and then the reader has to use their safe word and then either Chris or Matt gives the reader lots of aftercare?????

hope you like it <3

Good for You ➵ Chris Sturniolo

warnings: short smut, overstimulation, oral sex (f!receiving), safe word (i made it pepsi bc i had no ideas lmao), crying

It was late, and the quiet of Chris’s room was interrupted only by the sound of soft breaths and murmured words. You lay on the bed, your head thrown back as Chris settled in between your thighs, seemingly insatiable. One orgasm, two, three…

Chris was attentive, his touches always searching for your comfort. But as the night went on, he kept pushing just a little more each time, his gaze locked on yours, watching the way you responded. There was a hunger in his eyes, tempered only by the care in his touch, each gentle whisper of reassurance keeping you grounded.

"Oh god, Chris…" you gasped out, your body trembling beneath him as yet another climax washed over you. You felt so sensitive now, every nerve ending alight with pleasure that bordered on pain. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you tried to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensations.

But even through the haze of ecstasy, you could sense Chris's intensity, the way his focus never wavered from your face. It made you feel seen, truly understood in a way you rarely experienced. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as a wave of emotion crashed over you.

"Please," you whispered, not quite sure what you were asking for. More of the same intense pleasure? A moment's respite from the relentless tide of feelings? Or maybe just… connection. "I don't know how much more…"

"Shh, it's okay, I've got you." Chris breathed softly, pressing a tender kiss to your inner thigh before trailing up towards where you needed him most again. He licked slowly along your slit, savoring your taste and the way you shuddered in response.

Chris's mouth sealed around your clit, sucking gently as he continued to lap at your folds. His fingers probed deeper, curling inside you to stroke that sensitive spot within. The sounds of your pleasure were music to his ears, spurring him on. He knew he should probably slow down, give you a break, but he couldn't help himself. Seeing you like this, lost in bliss, was intoxicating. And he craved more — more of your moans, more of your trembles, more of your trust. So he kept going, determined to push you to new heights, to make you forget everything except the exquisite sensation of him worshipping your body.

"That's it baby, let go," Chris coaxed breathily between long licks. "I want to hear you fall apart for me." He punctuated his words with a firm suck on your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. "Come on, baby, give me one more." His voice was low and rough with desire, urging you onwards. He slid two fingers deep inside you, pumping steadily as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Cum for me," he commanded, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "Let yourself go."

But then, as he continued, you felt a shift—a hint of something overwhelming that built up inside of you, like waves crashing harder and harder. At first, you brushed it off, trying to meet his pace, but the intensity grew faster than you’d expected, making it difficult to keep up.

And suddenly, it was too much. A tightness built in your chest, and without realizing, you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

With a shaky breath, you whispered, “Pepsi.”

Chris immediately froze. The safe word you’d both chosen felt like a lifeline, and his face softened as he pulled back instantly, his gaze full of concern and care. “Hey, hey…” His voice dropped to a low, soothing tone as he met your eyes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… a little much,” you murmured, feeling a few tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of release and relief.

“Don’t apologize. I’m here,” he said, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. Chris reached out to softly take your hand, grounding you, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. “Let’s take a breath together, alright?”

You nodded, matching his slow, deep breaths, feeling yourself steady under his calm presence. He leaned in to press a comforting kiss to your forehead, not moving any closer, giving you space to feel and be. Slowly, the room seemed to settle, and the intensity of the moment faded into the familiar warmth of being with him.

Once you both sat up, he guided you to the bed, pulling the covers around you like a soft cocoon. He grabbed his sweatshirt from the nearby chair, slipping it over your shoulders. “Here, I know you love this one.” His small smile reassured you, his touch never hurried, always gentle.

He settled in beside you, wrapping an arm around you, and you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his chest against your cheek. “Better?” he asked softly, fingers brushing through your hair in slow, comforting strokes.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice a bit rough. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, his voice a soft anchor. “I’ve got you. You don’t need to be anyone or anything right now. Just relax.” He held you close, every gesture gentle and reassuring. A few stray tears escaped, but he just tucked you closer, his hand a steady presence on your back.

Time seemed to slow as you rested against him, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. You felt his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your shoulder and down your arm, a touch that was comforting and steady. He was humming softly now, a tune you recognized from one of your late-night playlists, and the sound wrapped around you like a blanket.

After a while, Chris leaned back slightly to meet your eyes. “Want some water or anything?” he asked.

You nodded, and he slipped out of bed, only to return a moment later with a glass. “Here, take your time.” He stayed close as you drank, watching you with that familiar, caring gaze, never pressuring, only making sure you felt safe and comfortable.

Once you settled back into bed, he tucked the blankets around you both, making sure you were warm. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, brushing a thumb across your cheek, a quiet smile in his eyes.

“Good,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “Really good.” His presence felt like everything you needed to feel secure again, and you felt a surge of gratitude for how gently he’d held you through it all.

He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering, “I’m here. Always.”

And with that, he wrapped his arms around you again, settling in beside you, letting the peace and closeness wash over you both. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of his arms around you, holding you close through the night.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash

[rosyhoneydew]

A quick love letter to my Bucktommy family in the form of a fix-it <3

Bucktommy | fix-it | Teen | 1141 words | warnings: this is angsty at the start and tiptoes toward addressing biphobia so please care for yourself and don't read if that will exacerbate your hurt.

They're three beers deep when the doorbell rings again.

It's been a fucking night. He hadn't really had much to say to Eddie when he got there, thankfully he hadn't had to, especially considering Eddie was clearly in the midst of his own kind of night. It feels better, not being alone, at least. But the alcohol mixes with his head and twists the moment in his apartment further. How come every time I want to move forward I get pushed back?

He's not even paying attention when Eddie goes up to get the door, just fiddles with the bottle in his hand more, peeling the label into tiny pieces and laying them on Eddie's coffee table for him to pick up later.

"Shit-" Eddie stumbles as he makes his way. And then Buck can feel a little breeze as he goes to tell whoever it is that this isn't a good time.

"Oh thank god-" Buck freezes, determined not to turn around. "I wasn't sure you'd be home but I think I fucked up."

That's Tommy.

"I panicked a little. Evan asked me to move in and I think I freaked out."

"Uhh-" Eddie adds.

"We just got done talking about my ex who I had to end an engagement with and it just- it felt like he was trying to make up for his own freak out about it and-" Buck hears him take a deep breath, "I didn't want to force him into doing something he didn't really want to do, you know? He- he should get to make sure that's what he really wants." He takes another breath. "Are you not wearing pants?"

"Umm-"

Buck's heart rate had steadily ramped up hearing Tommy speak, but it's when he stops that Buck feels tears prickle at his eyes. He whips around then, still nestled into Eddie's couch, betrayal in his voice when he speaks.

"I did!" and shit. He didn't really mean to shout that.

"I'm gonna..." Eddie trails off as he heads into his bedroom.

"Why do you think I didn't make sure that's what I wanted?" he demands. He hadn't thought he'd be so angry, but this felt like something to him, and Tommy's running. Again. "Because that girl hit on me at the restaurant?"

Tommy looks shell-shocked. Like he's still grasping the fact that Buck is here, so Buck just keeps talking.

"Or because I haven't dated a man before? So I must not know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Buck-"

"Don't call me that."

"Evan," Tommy steps a little closer, and Buck leans toward the cushions, petty, but feeling raw still. "That is not why."

Buck levels him with a look.

"Okay, what you said is fair enough," he relents. "I didn't mean to make it seem like you couldn't make your own decisions about this."

"What did you mean?"

Tommy looks away for a moment, a flicker of pain on his face.

"I meant... what I said," he lands on. "You would break my heart, Evan."

"You don't know that." The tears finally crest over his lower lids and make their way to his mouth. "You can't just give up every time you're scared that I'm going to leave you, Tommy. It's not fair, you're not even giving me the chance to stay."

Tommy's lip wobbles a little now too, but he stays and listens.

"I wanted to stay, I wanted you to stay. With me. Permanently. Why would you think I would leave you?"

He cries now, and Buck hasn't ever seen him cry.

"I don't know," he gets out, choked and soft. "I see you, sometimes. With the 118 and everyone's families and I... I don't feel like I fit, Evan. I don't get how I fit into that."

"You fit into it because you're my boyfriend. My partner."

"I am?" he asks, treading closer ever slightly to the couch.

This time Buck leans his way. He sets his bottle down and looks down at his hands.

"Did you mean what you told Eddie? You fucked up? Because I fucked up, once, at the beginning of us, and you gave me that second chance and I'm so glad you did, Tommy, because these last few months have been better than I could've hoped. I don't want to let that go because of this so... yeah you can be, if you want."

Tommy rushes to the couch, he sits as close as he can get and grabs Buck's hands firmly. Warm and sure.

"I want that. I want us again. Please."

"You can have it," Buck whispers, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder. He squeezes Tommy's hands. "Just don't leave again, please."

"I won't, I won't."

Then there's a kiss at the crown of his head, and Tommy's other hand rubs soft circles over his back. He murmurs sweet nothings in Buck's ear all the while.

I'm sorry. I'm glad you were here. I missed you as soon as I walked out the door. I'm staying. I'm staying. I'm staying.

They sit like that for a while until a throat clearing from the hallway has them both lifting their heads to find Eddie, fully-clothed.

"What were you guys doing before I got here, by the way?" Tommy asks, humor back in his voice.

"Well, I was drinking my sorrows away. I don't know what Tom Cruise was doing."

"Ha ha," Eddie says, making his way to the couch, no qualms about forcing them to scooch over to make room. "We can talk about my shit tomorrow. You guys worked it out I guess?"

Buck looks up at Tommy, smiles, and kisses him with a loud peck just to make Eddie huff and roll his eyes.

"Yeah," Tommy says, looking at ease. "Although..." he starts.

Buck turns to him, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know that moving into your place is going to work," Tommy admits.

Buck sits up a little, mouth just opening to speak when Tommy cuts him off.

"I want to live with you, Evan, but your place is barely big enough for one person, so maybe we can workshop location, yeah?" he smiles a crinkly smile, the kind that always lets Buck know he's feeling fond, feeling secure.

It's Buck's turn to huff now. "It gets good light," he grumbles.

Tommy kisses his temple again, Buck gets the distinct feeling that he will be getting kissed quite a bit in the near future, and he chances a quick look at Eddie to see if they're being annoying.

Instead, he sees Eddie smiling too, he's looking on like he's proud and it makes Buck want to tear up again. Eddie gives him a nod and Buck nods back.

A weight lifts off his shoulders then. In the arms of the man he's growing to love and accepted by his family.

~~~~

I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who read, commented, shared my fics, sent me nice messages about my writing for these two, and to everyone who created content for them while they were canon. I'm thankful for every minute of it :)

[crazyvik97rpg]

Sebastian was thankful that his dad actually spoke up when his mom was so all over the place – therapy, treatments, all that, Sebastian couldn’t even think about that in the slightest right now! Isa and Albert were the more logical ones so he was glad he had their support. As for William – Isa would keep an eye on him. Not even Sebastian was noticing anything – which was, to be fair, due to the stress and anxiety he had, dealing with his own illness so she really didn’t blame him. But well – that’s what she was here for. Silent support for her poor future brother–in–law, who was suffering in silence.

It was already late by the time visiting hours ended and while Sebastian had anticipated parting from his beloved would feel difficult, he didn’t expect it to be quite so painful. After his parents and Isa had said good bye, it was William’s turn. He acted unbothered and cheerful, it went right over Sebastian’s head how worried he was on the inside – however, he did notice William’s glossy eyes and then suddenly he understood. Oh he would miss him so much too. When was the last time they were so far apart, for so long? Sebastian couldn’t remember.

He made sure to savour that kiss, he loved when William would cup his face like this. His hands were warm and soft, it was a familiar, loving feeling, do warm and fuzzy. Sebastian nodded with a smile when William said they would facetime later. „Okay. Yes please…you call first whenever you’re ready, okay?“

That was at least a small silver lining. They would still see each other.

When they all left the room, the door closing behind them, suddenly it got all quiet. Sebastian stared at the door for a longer moment, the heart monitor still beeping quietly in the background. Now he was all alone. In this creepy, sterile, white room. Ugh.

Before they all went home – Isa came together in the car with her parents earlier – they all walked outside together, to the nearby parking lot. It was a chilly evening. For William, it’s been a really long day, to say the least. It was dark already.

„Will you be fine?“, she asked and she gently touched his shoulder, as they were walking next to each other, Cynthia and Albert only a few steps ahead, „You can always call me, okay?“

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[sh1-n0bu]

i have noticed a small pattern of elves being on my latest fictional character obsessions and HEAR ME OUT!!

elf who has lived for hundreds upon thousands of years, who had experienced many of the things the world has to offer. sadness of bidding hundreds of farewells to the beauty of life and alliance of different races

elf who even after all his years of living still yet to find a love for himself. regal and seemingly detached to the concepts of relationships elves may be, even they get lonely. some nights feeling a little bit too long, a little bit too cold as they add another layer of blanket over themselves or reaching over to hug one of his puffy pillows like how he would hug his future lover. the coldness of being immortal seeping into his bones and making him shiver despite elves being above the concept of getting sick or feeling the cold temperatures

elf who runs into you by some chance meeting. maybe you were walking in the territory of elves without knowing it, maybe he purposely goes to human residences and towns, seeking adventure, excitement and change of pace. who immediately is enamored by you just by your smile that you flash his way, a kind one, a gentle one, to a nearby passenger. who falls in love with the callouses of your hand, the freckles, the small scars, the little bits of imperfection that marked you as clearly human, very much mortal, very much brittle but still with your own strength that he hasn’t felt before

elf bf who starts to court you the moment he realizes that you weren’t seeing anyone, bringing small gifts, exchanging knowledge, singing you soft ancient lullabies that no other mortal has ever heard before. maybe he finds himself writing a poem about you one day, describing your looks, your feelings, your everyday actions that you may see as mundane but ones he sees as just as courageous and beautiful in their own ways

elf bf who has never seen human flesh or bare skin before, finding the rippling biceps and toned legs of yours to be… curious. a tentative finger touching the muscles here and there, stopping you mid work as he inquires about them in a soft tone. elves of course were magical beings, blessed with magic and eternity and had no need to develop visible physical muscles till the point they become buff or beefy to some extent all due to their magic and ancient powers. the tips of his pointy ear twitching softly, eyes wide in wonder as you explain that contrary to his kin, your own develop muscles if they are put to work in physically demanding job for enough time

elf bf who over time, finds himself obsessively scribbling down any sort of new information about human anatomy on a journal, always asking you new things as he finds himself able to learn more despite having been alive for hundreds upon thousands of years. tracing the old faded scars on your body with the tip of his finger, counting the freckles, kissing the stretch marks as they were all you. regardless of how you see it, to him it was all you, together and healthy. you were alive even if you may have battle scars and he always makes sure to thank the stars as it was thanks to the tribulations you have conquered that you two were here now. staring eye to eye, touching your foreheads together as you whisper about mundane things

elf bf who one day sees you cut down a tree, cut a log off or prepare firewood and finds that he was imagining the bulge of your muscles against himself. big arms caging him in a bear hug, legs to support him and strong back that he could sink his nails into as he moans under you— hold. since when has his thoughts of you turned… impure? since when has he become turned on? sitting there on one of the logs with a painful strain against his pants as he swallowed the saliva that gathered in his jaw down, tearing his gaze away. no no, he really shouldn’t think of you as such, you were still in courting phase after all and elves were a race that took their romances and courting extremely important

yet regardless of his kin’s customs and traditions, your pretty elf bf couldn’t help but continue to stare. his gaze constantly seeking your figure out, seeing you just go through the motions of every life peacefully while he gets pathetically turned on by your actions as if he was still but a fledgling who learned of a kiss. chopping down trees for firewood, maybe you would work in front of a fire or heat for too long and get sweaty, removing one of the overtunics. maybe you’re just simply dragging a bucket full of water from the well, cranking the pulley as the muscles on your arms and back strained

elf bf who finds himself extremely aroused as his mind wanders to the gutters as he just shamelessly stares at your working form. oh, to feel those calloused hands touch his colder skin, palms smoothening over his creamy skin, and down his chest, his stomach and over his bulge. maybe you would tease the poor thing, tease him of how quick he is to get aroused, the pre of his half-hard cock weeping through his underwear and pants like he was some sore pathetic loser. a little virgin. bully him about being unable to use his cock, make him whine at your mean words as his hips weakly buckle under your exploratory hands

elf bf who couldn’t help but imagine the usual sweetness of your attitude gone, replaced by one that was just a tad bit meaner as you pushes his face down into the pillows of your bed, force his hands to stretch open his puckering hole for you to fuck senselessly. imagining you whispering all sorts of filth into his twitching ears, promising to breed him full, to use him to your heart’s content all night long as he whines and squeals like a little lamb caught in the nest of a hungry wolf. who couldn’t swallow down the quiet whimper coming from his throat as he imagined your hand grasping at his long locks, fisting it tightly as you yank him back, forcing him to arch his back and push the tip of your cock to bruise his guts even more

elf bf who waves off your worry when you had managed to hear the embarrassing noise that slipped past his lips, saying that he was having a bit of a sore throat. gods, he would love to actually whimper from having a sore throat of getting his mouth plowed all day by your fat cock head forcing his jaws wiiideee open

elf bf who couldn’t help but get a little needy in his kisses since then. hands that touched your muscles with curiosity now running over your skin as if trying to feebly seduce you. dropping things to the ground a bit too many times, following you close behind even as you told him that some of the work you needed to do required space and for him to be away for his own safety. who straddles your lap all snug, pushing his chest flush against your own as your simply daily evening kisses after dinner becomes a bit too heated. he definitely had little to no experience with the way his tongue kept licking at your lips meagerly, long fingers curling over your shoulders tightly while his bucking hips on your lap as he starts to get hard again

elf bf who has finally had enough of just his meager imaginations, tugging on the strings of your white tunic with shaky hands as he rambles about touching you, you touching him, feeling him, using him — anything dammit! use those hands of yours on him!

elf bf who soon realizes that he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew when your hands grip at his hips, dragging his clothed cock against your thigh that had him whining like a cat in heat. meagerly, he tries to replicate what you just made him do, dragging his hips back and forth on your thigh but he all but just looks like an inexperienced bunny. which he probably was judging by the things he spoke to you about himself

elf bf who finds so much pleasure in simply grinding against your thigh for now, the precum of his now hard cock weeping through his pants, staining it into a darker color. all cute and red in the face that spread to his pointy ears, cute high pitched whines falling from his chewed up pink lips. a cute, surprised “a-aahn♡︎??” echoing in the room as you pull his eager body against your own. your chest to his back, hands loosely draped over the hip bone of his

elf bf who lets out the most embarrassing high pitched squeals when your hands travel up his body under his clothes, traveling more and more until teasing at his nipples. rolling your fingertips against the soft areola, squeezing and fondling his pecks as if they were breasts. who jolts in place when you pinch at the hardened buds, tugging at them to test the waters as he arches his back off of your chest, a filthy mewl falling as if he was being fucked stupid already

elf bf who blubbers out uncharacteristic words of “s-shensiitiivgh♡︎ n-no, don’t pinch the-eeengk♡︎♡︎!“ his pleads of your rough hands not torturing his sensitive nipples being replaced with an open mouthed wail when you place a kiss to the pointy tip of his ear. his ears were so sensitive! you knew that and now you were just being downright mean to him as you whisper filth into his ears of acting like a cooped up virgin for merely getting his chest played with. he wasn’t! he was way older than you! slurring out “how c-could you be sooh m-meanngk…♡︎?” as you lick a slow stripe up the pointy helix

elf bf who bucks his hips on your thigh, trying to bounce, trying to move away but ending up whining as his clothed cock grazes against your hardened muscles again. his cute nipples being tortured and groped by your hands, the delicate helix of his ears being assaulted by your wet kisses and licks. any time your hot breath spoke into his ears of how he was such a precious little thing, just like a bunny in heat, he would try to wiggle away. shaking his head with a weak sniffle, his mind churning into a mush as all he could do was to pathetically fuck his cock into your thigh, letting out a soft mewl everytime you buck your leg up to meet his shy excuse of thrusts, jumping in place

elf bf whose minds and body starts to feel weird. the room feeling stifling and your touch making his own skin heat up too much. who tries to tell you that he was feeling ‘odd’ and concerned, yet only to harshly thrust his hips back into your own arousal. eyes widening, a shudder running down his spine at the feeling. still clothed and hidden like his own but good grief, it just felt… so huge since he was sure your human dick couldn’t possibly be much bigger than his own. but no, it got him gulping down the saliva in his mouth

elf bf who bounces himself experimentally onto your own hardened, covered dick, feeling his balls brush against where he guesses is the tip of your strap. his earlier cute whines growing in volume as your torture of his sensitive spots grow worse, groping, squeezing, calling him too eager to get fucked, making him dumb and airheaded. the constant tugs to his chest, the words you spat into his mind so lovingly and the small actions of your hips thrusting up to meet his own weaker excuse of grinding

elf bf who’s voice grow more and more breathier, who finally loses it as he throws himself back against your chest, his head on your shoulder as he let out a wail of “h-hoowt!! t-too ahgg♡︎ haah anhg t-too hoounwt...♥︎!” as he cums into his pants, dirtying the material as a single glob or two of his sweet transparent arousal oozes out through the linen. the dark patch growing into a considerable size, his body racked with twitches and jolts as he cums untouched on your lap. precious little thing getting drunk on the feeling of sex and physical pleasure so much till the point he disregards all of his traditions, bending himself over onto the bed, his hand reaching back to tug you forward by the belt with a desperate whine and a cute blown wide pupils and twitching ears♡︎

⇨ meludir, lindir, legolas, maglor, mairon + whoever you like

[nuemanfilms]

“YOU COULD’VE ASKED.” || SOULLESS. S.W

“—Like a Bitch in heat.”

Summary; Soulless!Sam has been eying you for a while, his advances haven’t gone unnoticed. You finally can’t help it anymore after you believe he’ll be out for the night on a case with Dean.

Content Warnings; Soulless!Sam, heavy degrading, unprotected sex, piv, F!Masturbation, Creampie, Caught masturbating, Sam being a dick, Mentions of tension, teasing, rough sex, hair pulling, slight pain kink, crying during sex, etc. 16+ ONLY.

A/N; I despite Soulless!Sam, but god fucking damn it he’s hot as hell. Slight plot. 900+.

Xoxo, roro <3

The sound of Sam’s heavy boots clunked down the hallway of the bunker as he headed towards your room.

Ever since Sam lost his soul, you had to admit, the man was fucking hot, he was hot before, but fucking hell. You saw how his eyes trained on your form, how he stared at you with lust clear in his irises. When his hand snuck down to grip your thigh when Dean went on about a case in the town you two were headed earlier, your panties were soaked from the mere contact.

This was pathetic, you felt pathetic as you plunged your fingers in and out of your cunt. Moans and whimpers spilling from your plush lips along with gasps of his name.

The loud footsteps didn’t even register in your brain. Your hips rocked against your fingers, fuck, you could imagine how well his would feel instead of yours.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up when he heard the gasp of his name, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he realized who it was. Dean was out at a bar with some pretty blonde after another argument between the older Winchester and the younger.

The old Sam would walk away, pretending nothing happened. This Sam? He was pushing the door open, leaning against the doorframe as he watched your fingers move in and out of your pussy. He already felt himself harden beneath the denim of his jeans. He watched as you grinded your hips against your hand. Trying to reach that sweet spongy spot that he knew you clearly weren’t successful in.

“You could’ve asked.” You could hear the smirk in his tone, your cheeks immediately heating up. You began to speak before he cut you off again, “Told Dean I was gonna check on you… and here you are, humping your fucking hand like a bitch in heat.” He tilted his head, watching as you looked at him with wide eyes. Something told him you enjoyed how he spoke to you. So he kept going, making his way over to your bed. He was undoing his belt in the process.

“Sam, I-“ You stuttered before he cut you off again, “Shut up, ass up.” You swallowed at that, removing your fingers from your leaking hole and getting into the position he requested. His hand moved to assist you after he tossed his belt, pushing you further into the pillow.

You hadn’t even processed the fact he was lining up with your slick entrance already before he made another degrading comment.

“Wet like a goddamn faucet. It’s for me, isn’t it?” He muttered, his hand skimming over your back before his fingers moved to tangle in your hair. You nodded, the feeling of his tip prodding at your entrance distracting you from a verbal response.

“Answer. Me.” He tugged at your hair once, forcing a strangled moan out of you. He groaned at that, seeing how the pain had a very positive reaction on you judging by the way your slick coated his head.

“God- fuck, yes… it’s been for you.” You choked out, and he finally pushed inside. Filling you in one single snap of his hips, forcing a gasp from your throat.

You were squeezing him so goddamn tight already.

“Fuck, all that and you’re still tight…” He grunted, his fingers resting in your locks before he gave another firm tug. His smirk widened when he heard that small whimper come from you.

After a few moments, he created a pace. Your lewd sounds and the vulgar noise of his cock slamming in and out of your dripping cunt filled your room. Sam’s noises weren’t loud like yours, but you could hear them.

“S-Sam- oh my fucking god…” You moaned out, he let out a deep chuckle at that. He noticed how your hips attempted to move against his. He saw how your pussy swallowed him each time he moved. His free hand moved down, his index and middle finger rubbing at your clit to try and loosen you up around him.

His pace was rough, god, he was fucking ruthless. Yet you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“Fuck, you really did need this, huh? Taking me so fucking deep… stretching so perfect around me, huh, Sweetheart?” You mewled at that, tears beginning to stain your pillow at his relentless pace. You couldn’t stop saying his name, it was the only thing you seemed to remember at this point. Besides the fact that you could feel the knot building up inside of you, ready to snap at any moment while his cock hit your sweet spot over and over again. It was like he had already memorized it.

He knew you were close, he was too. He could tell by how your moans grew more high-pitched, how your pussy was squeezing him like a goddamn vice. He didn’t hesitate in teasing you for it, “Shit… You’re already gonna come for me? It's not even been that long, Baby… Can’t get enough of this, can you?” You sobbed out another cry of his name in response, his fingers tightened their grip further in your strands. Forcing your head up so you could open your eyes despite your blurry vision.

“Come. Now.” He said, your hips stuttered, your legs were practically shaking. He fucked you through your orgasm, despite his own stuttering hips.

“Filling this pussy up, Honey… and you’re gonna keep it in there.” His tone held a warning, and within seconds he was coming undone inside of you. His release coating your sore walls.

Your breaths were heavy, he pulled out slowly. His hand slid from your hair, letting your head fall against the pillow.

“See? It’s not that hard to ask.”

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

ummmm.. crew members walk in on reader masturbating headcannons …?

also i adore your writing !!

ps… no rush at all💙💙💙

CREW MEMBERS WALKING IN ON THE READER MASTURBATING ;

Curly

- freezes on the spot,is unsure of what to do next.

- gets an undeniable raging boner the second he sees you like that,your body covered in sweat, hair scattered.

- maybe it just flipped a switch in him,or maybe...just maybe....he had been waiting for something like this to happen.

- nevertheless,he enters the room,and closes it behind him, locking it.

- "my my,y/n you could've told me you were feeling frustrated! I'm always ready to help y'know?~".

Jimmy

- you just got yourself in deep trouble.

- he is simply,always on the hunt,to get you in such a compromising state.

- the moment he locked eyes with you,it's almost as if you saw a complete 360° change in a person. He had this lustful grin plastered across his face.

- shuts the door with a loud thud,and starts making his way towards you,you could feel the lust radiating off him.

- "if you're gonna be a naughty little whore,might as well let someone take advantage of it."

Swansea

- this guy is wayy too underpaid to be dealing with stuff like this.

- *deeply sighs* and turns to go out of the room.

- stops mid way,pauses and looks at you for a good long while.

- suddenly,closes the door very silently.

- "i have to admit,this kind of unprofessionalism is not really my thing,but hey can ya blame this old man for letting out some frustration?, especially since you're such a sexy little thing".

Daisuke

- 'AAAAAAHHHH' type of a guy.

- will just run away screaming.

- got an agonizingly painful boner seeing you that way.

- after that night,he avoids you like crazy,but picked up a perverted habit of creeping around your room late at night,to maybe...catch a glimpse again.

Anya

- sees you, apologises,closes the door and goes about her day.

- the image is stuck in her mind tho.

[meownotgood]

arcane season 2 spoilers

════════════════════

"Can you feel anything?" 

Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet. 

It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you. 

And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood. 

He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense. 

It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold. 

Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to. 

Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive. 

Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty. 

Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away. 

Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it. 

Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures. 

Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.

So, he takes a chance. 

Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does. 

His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it. 

Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense. 

Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more. 

Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything? 

"Vik?" 

Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home. 

"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone. 

The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference. 

This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation. 

What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to? 

He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere? 

There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you. 

Can you feel anything? 

Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?" 

[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[split-spectrum]

YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling

Length: 3.3K

Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3

☆☆☆

What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?

You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.

He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.

When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.

Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."

The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.

"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."

Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"

You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."

He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"

You smile innocently. "You got it."

After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.

It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.

In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.

Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.

Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.

You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.

Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.

As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.

"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.

Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."

The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"

Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"

"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.

You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.

"Cool it, Henry."

"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.

Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.

Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"

You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."

"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.

Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."

He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.

You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.

You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.

"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."

You smirk. "What, like Henry?"

"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."

You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.

"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."

He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.

"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.

"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"

Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"

He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."

He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."

You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."

Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.

"Joel, I didn't mean-"

He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.

He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.

"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."

"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."

The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.

He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.

He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"

Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."

She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.

He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."

He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.

"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.

He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."

He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.

You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.

He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.

"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.

He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.

"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."

His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.

"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"

Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."

He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."

He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."

He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.

When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.

"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."

You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."

He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"

"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.

You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.

"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."

You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"

He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.

Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.

"Is anybody in there?"

Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.

"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.

"Hello?"

He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."

He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."

"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."

Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"

Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.

"Joel, it's... somebody is..."

"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.

"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."

He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"

"Mm..."

"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"

You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."

"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."

"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."

He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...

"Fuck-"

Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.

"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."

You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"

He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.

"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."

You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.

"Never gonna learn that way."

You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.

He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.

He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."

And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.

Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)

Masterlist

[santaasi]

iris

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj maybank struggled all his life just to finally find home in your arms

warnings: fluff, slight angst at the start, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.9k

a/n: bringing myself comfort after the spoilers for the final of s4. my baby boy deserved a lot more.

ᯓ★ now playing…

goo goo dolls - iris

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

IT WAS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT — something so profound that JJ couldn't begin to describe it in words. Yet, he felt it in every cell of his body, in the deepest, most secret corners of his soul. It was as if he was staring into the vastness of the universe, into the boundless, all-consuming darkness that had terrified him since childhood. But now... now it glowed with a hundred, a million, a billion tiny stars — simple, yet magnificent clusters of light that transformed everything in an instant. You became his universe, his everything, and in that moment, everything changed.

JJ would be lying if he said he didn’t remember the exact moment — the exact second — he first met you. He remembered it vividly, like it was etched into his very bones, because that moment was his Big Bang. It was the spark that created the whole universe from nothing, with you as its center, pulling him into an orbit he never thought he’d find.

It was an ordinary day — at least, by JJ’s standards. A typical day filled with drinking, weed, hanging out with Pogues, and the all-too-familiar beatings from his father. After the last one, all he craved was solitude — just to be alone, to fade into the nothingness. To disappear. To stop feeling the weight of pain, to stop wondering what he had done wrong, to stop seeing the pity in his friends’ eyes whenever he showed up at the Chateau, bruised and broken.

For a fleeting moment, he wished he could stop being JJ Maybank — the lost, troubled boy everyone knew — and just be... himself. If only he knew who that was anymore.

It was night — a surprisingly cold summer night. The air carried a chill that seemed at odds with the warmth of the season, but even so, JJ found his haven between the soothing waves. The ocean cradled him gently, rocking him like a child in a mother’s arms, as if the water itself was trying to heal him. He lay on his stomach, his face dipping under the surface, seeking solace in the cool embrace of the sea, trying to drown out the swarm of thoughts buzzing endlessly in his mind.

How long had he been lying there? He couldn’t say. Time had blurred into the rhythm of the waves, and for a moment, he didn’t care. He didn’t expect the next moment to be so... startling.

You stopped just a few meters away, your breath coming in quick, heavy gasps. Your hair clung to your face, and the water began to bite at your skin with its coldness. And yet, in that brief flash of moonlight, JJ swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you — divine, even. The glow of the moon reflected off the water, casting a silver sheen over you, making everything seem surreal. Your slightly parted lips, your wide eyes, all caught in the stillness of the night, made something inside him twist. At that moment, he realized something, something terrifying: he was a goner.

"What the hell?"

The words slipped out in unison, an awkward moment of shared surprise. You raised an eyebrow, the frustration and relief mixing in your gaze before you splashed water in his face.

"Are you asking me what the hell?" you said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You were literally floating face down! I thought you were dead!"

JJ blinked, caught off guard, and shook his head, sending droplets flying in every direction. He didn’t respond immediately — his mind was still trying to catch up. He just stared at you, the way the moonlight danced on your skin, how the cold seemed to wash away everything else. There was something about you that both unsettled and comforted him, a mix he couldn’t quite place.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t, like, dead. I mean, not really." His voice was hoarse, raw with something he hadn’t let anyone hear in a long time. It barely masked the emptiness he���d been drowning in just moments ago. "Just needed a swim. Didn’t mean to scare you."

You crossed your arms under the water, rolling your eyes, but a soft smile played at the edges of your lips. "Just an ordinary midnight swim, huh?" you teased. But there was a knowing look in your eyes, like you could see through the mask. "I thought I was going to have to explain to the police tomorrow that some guy was found swimming in the ocean. ‘Local girl finds body in the water,’ you know? Not exactly the first week I imagined."

JJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Wait... you’re new here?"

You nodded, brushing your wet hair from your face, a small sigh escaping you as you did. "Yeah, I moved here a few days ago. Needed to start fresh, I guess." Your gaze shifted toward the shore, distant, but not quite lost. "Thought the ocean might help clear my head."

He could relate to that, more than he wanted to admit. He nodded without thinking, something about you felt... different. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice almost vulnerable. "Outer Banks isn’t paradise, but... it could be worse." The words slipped out before he could stop them, softer than he wanted, like a door that had been closed for too long suddenly creaking open. He hadn’t expected to share anything, but with you, it didn’t feel like sharing — it felt more like breathing.

The wind picked up, sending a chill over the water. You shivered slightly, pulling your arms tighter around yourself. JJ noticed, instinctively stepping closer, despite still standing in the water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. "Cold night for a swim."

The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on him — he, too, had come to the water to escape, to disappear. But with you standing there, he didn’t feel quite as invisible. And that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

You shrugged, looking toward the shore, but your eyes softened. "Yeah, just... a tough day, I guess. I thought the water might help me forget for a little while."

A bitter laugh slipped from JJ’s lips, and he didn’t try to hide it. "Well, looks like you found the right company for that," he said, his words more raw than he’d intended. But somehow, it felt natural to talk like this, to say things he hadn’t said to anyone in a long time. With you, it didn’t feel so forced.

You turned toward him, your expression softening. There was understanding in your eyes — like you’d been there too. "Tough day too, huh?" you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the stillness of the night.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath, the ocean around you a calm, sacred space. In that silence, something passed between you — unspoken, but real. As if for that moment, you both shared something intangible, something neither of you could put into words.

Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice teasing but gentle. "So... are you always this mysterious, or did I just pick the perfect time to meet you?"

A laugh escaped him, more genuine than he expected. "Maybe a little of both." He let the silence stretch on, comfortable now. For the first time in ages, he felt seen, and it wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be.

It was ridiculous, he thought — how could a complete stranger, someone he’d just met in the middle of the ocean, at some ungodly hour, feel like they were filling a space inside him he never knew was empty?

But when he looked at you, he felt something shift, something deep inside. Something real. Something alive.

"JJ," he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. The sound of his own name felt unfamiliar, like a piece of himself he hadn’t shared in too long.

You gave him a soft smile that reached your eyes, warm and knowing. "Nice to meet you, JJ."

AND THERE IT WAS — his universe had changed. The Big Bang.

After that night, JJ couldn’t think about anything but you. Your presence consumed him, yet in a way that felt like coming alive for the first time. He found himself drifting into your orbit, again and again, as if fate itself had been guiding him toward you all along. But while he believed in fate, you thought it was just chance.

It wasn’t long before JJ began to learn more about you, obsessing over every little detail. He learned that you loved spending your free time on the beach, reading books. Books that he had never bothered with before, but now he listened to them at double speed just to be able to talk to you about them. You had a habit of finding solace in the water, the way the waves seemed to ease the weight of the world from your shoulders. And he learned that you worked in a small diner on the Cut, a place that barely registered on anyone else’s radar but was now a part of his daily life.

It became his mission to visit those places. To catch your eye, exchange a few words. He even went to some Save the Turtles event with Kie — something he’d never have attended before — just to see you, just to find a reason to talk.

He didn't know why he was so drawn to you. Why waking up felt a little easier when he thought about you. Why his days felt less suffocating when he could see you by the ocean, or feel your warmth when you wrapped him up in your arms. And most importantly — why, in a world where he wanted to stay invisible, he wanted you to see him. Because no one, not even the closest people in his life, had ever truly understood him like you did.

It might have sounded corny, but JJ knew you were different. He didn’t want to undress you or get you into bed first, like he did with other girls. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know you. He wanted to be near you — not in a rushed, desperate way, but slowly, patiently, like the world had all the time for them. And that terrified him. Because everything in his life felt like it was bound to break, and he was scared of getting too close, only to watch it all fall apart.

But you made him feel like he was floating, like he was finally seeing the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. And even if it didn’t last forever, he would take it. It was worth it.

Because at some moment you became his safe place. His home.

JJ DIDN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT MOMENT HE FIRST CAME TO YOUR HOUSE, or why he couldn’t go back to the Chateau after the latest fight with his father. He just knew that he had found his way to you. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It was as if the universe had decided that, for once, he deserved peace. So, he climbed up to your balcony, hiding from the world, just to see you.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt the weight of everything lift from his chest. You didn't need to ask questions, you didn’t need explanations. You just held him — no judgment, no demands. Just there. Your hands gently cupped his face, and in that simple gesture, everything felt easier. It was like you knew exactly how much he needed to be held together. The comfort in your touch was so raw, so real, that it felt like he could stay there forever and nothing would ever hurt him again.

"Hey, JJ," you whispered softly as you cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. "You're okay. It's just another day. We'll get through it."

Your words were soft, but they carried a weight. The kind of weight that made him feel like, maybe, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t carrying all the burden on his own.

"Yeah, we will," he whispered looking in your eyes finding solace in it. "How'd your day go?" he asked quietly, almost as an afterthought, as you dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, the usual. Serving coffee, cleaning tables... Same old stuff. But then again, it’s a good distraction.”

And JJ realized, right then, that this wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the mess of his life. It was about the way you understood him without needing to understand everything. You were healing him, piece by piece, without even knowing it.

You were there, not because you had to be, but because you wanted to be. And when you laid him down in your bed, curling up beside him, you whispered about your day at work, your own small struggles. You shared your world with him, and somehow, it made his feel a little less heavy.

IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE JJ OPENED UP TO YOU, really opened up in a way he had never done before. It was a slow burn at first. He kept his distance, guarding you from the mess that was his life. But the longer he stayed, the more he realized that you were the one who saw him. All of him — the messed-up, broken parts that he tried so hard to hide from everyone else. And when he realized you weren’t scared of that, he finally let go.

"I used to think that if I told you about my life, you'd leave," he admitted one night, his voice thick with raw emotion. "But... you didn’t. You stayed."

You looked at him, your expression tender, your hands tracing the edge of his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere, JJ. Not unless you want me to."

And that was the moment he knew — he had found someone who understood him in a way no one ever had. No one ever would.

One night, after sharing stories and secrets until the stars outside had started to fade, you both found yourselves standing close, the air thick with unspoken words. There was a nervousness between you, but also a tenderness that neither of you had known before. JJ leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was soft, hesitant, and filled with the kind of understanding that only comes when two people truly see each other. His lips were warm against yours, the moment suspended in time. And as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered softly, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You didn’t need to say anything in return. The truth was already in your eyes, in the way you pulled him closer, your hands tracing the lines of his back like you were memorizing him. He didn’t need forever. He didn’t need promises. He just needed this. You. Now. And that was enough.

THE EVENING WAS SETTLING INTO ITS QUIET RYTHM AT THE CHATEAU. The Pogues were scattered around, some laughing, some lost in their own thoughts, and some just lounging by the bonfire. The air smelled faintly of saltwater and smoke, the crackling warmth from the fire barely reaching the edge of the pier. The world felt suspended in a beautiful hush, as though the universe itself had exhaled, and for the briefest of moments, everything stood still.

But despite the presence of his friends, despite the fire, the laughter, and the constant noise that filled every corner of the Chateau, JJ was focused only on you. Your presence was like gravity, pulling him closer to something real, something tangible. You were his escape, his universe — shaped not by chaos and pain, but by a quiet peace he had never known until you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked softly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your voice was gentle, threading through the sea breeze that fluttered your hair, causing it to stray in wisps across your face. You frowned slightly as the breeze brushed against your skin, the hair teasing at your cheek in an almost playful, yet annoying way. He loved how you could get lost in these little moments, how even the simplest things seemed to pull you in.

JJ, ever the thinker, gazed out at the vast ocean, where the horizon was a delicate line between the fading light of the day and the endless mystery of the night. There was something about the sea — so unpredictable, so endless — that made him feel both small and infinite. It was like he could feel the weight of the universe pressing on his chest, but at the same time, it gave him a sense of freedom, of release.

He shook his head, not really having the words to explain the depth of his thoughts, of how you had become his entire universe in such a short time. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise, like a quiet vow he was ready to keep forever.

"I love you," he said simply, the words falling so easily from his lips it startled him. It was like his heart had always known the truth, but now, with you, it could finally speak it. He turned to face you, his hands gently cupping your face, and pushed a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hair had tangled slightly in the breeze, and his fingers brushed against the soft strands as if trying to keep you grounded in this moment.

You smiled up at him, your eyes warm with affection, and for a brief second, JJ wondered if he had been imagining all of this — the way your touch made him feel alive, how your laugh filled him with a joy that felt as though he was living in a dream. He had never been one to express his feelings out loud, never been able to put his heart on the line like that. But with you, everything felt different. Everything felt right.

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but JJ felt the weight of them — felt how real they were, how they shifted the space between you, making it smaller, warmer, more intimate. It was like the universe had shifted in that moment, like the stars aligned just for the two of you.

But you, ever the one to keep things light, laughed softly, breaking the moment in the most perfect way. Your laugh rang out like music, a melody he couldn’t get enough of. "But everyone knows that, stupid! It’s no secret that you’re head over heels in love with me," you teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as if trying to bring him back down from whatever cosmic place his mind had drifted to.

JJ chuckled, the sound deep and sincere. There was no pretense, no walls. Just the two of you, surrounded by the night and the ocean, and for the first time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. His smile was soft but real, and he kissed you once, gently, on the tip of your nose, then moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, your forehead, each kiss like a reassurance that this moment, this feeling, was real.

"You don't get it, do you?" JJ murmured, his voice a little more serious than the moment required. He let the silence stretch between you before continuing. "It’s not just... about love, doll. It’s about everything. It’s the way you make me see the world in a way I never thought I would. The way you make me feel like... like I’m enough." His voice softened with a vulnerability he hadn’t known he could express. "Before you, everything was just a blur. I didn’t even know how to be, to feel. But with you? It’s different. You make me real, love."

You looked at him, your gaze tender, understanding. Your eyes softened, and without a word, you reached out and pulled him in for a tight hug. JJ rested his head against your shoulder, inhaling the soft scent of your skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. It was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, JJ felt truly alive.

He had spent so many years running from everything that hurt him, pushing away anything that could cause him pain. But in that moment, wrapped in your embrace, the fear was gone. There was nothing left but the two of you, standing on the edge of the world, with the ocean stretching out before you like an endless promise.

"I never thought I’d say it," he whispered, his words coming out in a quiet rush. "But you’re my Big Bang. The thing that changed everything for me. Before you, it felt like I was drifting through the void, like there was nothing in this world worth holding on to. But now..." He pulled away slightly, looking at you with a newfound intensity. "Now, you’re my everything. You gave me a reason to stay."

Your fingers lightly brushed against his cheek, the touch so gentle it felt like a feather. You looked at him, eyes searching his face, and you smiled softly. "You don't have to be alone anymore, JJ. You’ve never been alone." Your voice was quiet, but the sincerity behind it struck him like a bolt of lightning. "We're in this together."

A small laugh escaped him, a sound that felt almost foreign but so freeing. The way you made him feel — like he was seen, understood, held — it was beyond anything he could have imagined. You were the gravity in his universe, pulling him in, holding him steady. And no matter how far out he drifted, he always knew he'd find his way back to you.

"You make me feel like the world is full of stars," he murmured, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Like everything that’s ever happened to me — good or bad — led me to you. Like I was just waiting for you to come and show me what it’s like to be."

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. "Well, don't get too carried away, Maybank. I’m not that amazing."

JJ smiled, but there was something raw in his expression, something that hinted at all the things he could never quite put into words. "You are," he said softly. "You are my everything. And for once, I’m not afraid to let myself feel it."

The world stretched out before you, both of you standing at the precipice of something so beautiful, so uncertain, yet so undeniable. The stars above shimmered like tiny promises, like constellations forming their own quiet narrative about two souls finding each other in the vast, infinite expanse of the universe. And in that moment, the ocean, the stars, the wind, and the night itself seemed to pause, holding its breath.

"I love you. So much," JJ whispered again, his voice filled with the certainty that had settled deep within him. It was simple, but it was everything. The words echoed, not just through the air, but through his heart, through his bones, reverberating in a way he never thought was possible. And as the night embraced them both, they realized that they had found their place in the world. Together.

And for the first time, JJ Maybank wasn’t afraid to be seen. Because you saw him. And that was enough

thankx for reading <3

so, that’s it. jj maybank deserved the whole world but only got this shitty ending. am i gonna watch obx4 now? probably not. am i gonna write for jj like there’s no s4? definitely yes! i think we’ll all agree that obx ended on s3 and after that nothing happened.

but every time i see the posts about jj i feel so sad… like it literally hurts on some level because he deserved his happy ending more than anyone. even if rudy wanted to leave the show they could have written a good ending for him. not one more fucked up father, but one that would take him to see the world or shit like this. i just wanted him to be happy.

i chose iris because this is so jj coded for me. i haven’t listened to this song in ages and when it popped up in my shuffle yesterday – i just wanted it to be about jj. with all his struggles, all his pain, but also with a hope for something good. so, i rly hope that you liked this work.

and again thank u for reading. thank u for liking, reblogging and commenting - it’s rly means a lot to me. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[earth4angels]

HOUR OF THE STARS 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⠀⠀𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: love had two endings. every ending that was read in the book of the fate never appealed to anyone. it was either to accept the one you love walk down the aisle with someone else or to kill anything that stood your way. ⠀⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst with no happy endings. major character death. mentions of adultery? short quick lovemaking. mentions of blood/gore. reader takes control, shes heartbroken, sad. the dance did not happen. jacaerys had his wife chosen to become king. very short one shot.

The invitation from House Targaryen seemed as though it burned through your vanity, the weight of its contents mocked you. Your cold dainty fingers ran through the expensive parchment paper, the words burning through your brain. The words kept repeating over and over, your mouth moved in silence reading the heading. You did not know whether or not to begin to allow the salty tears your eyes were holding back to pool its way down your cheeks or to scream into the void of your window where the clouds were your only comfort.

You knew this day was coming. The denial carried on your shoulders, the hope overcoming the fears that denied you sleep every night. Every kiss, every touch, every whisper and moan as hands roamed bodies late at night held desperation to dishonor the duties from birth.

A choked sobbed ripped from your chest as you crumbled onto the coldness of your floor. The knife twisted and pushed so deep you gasped as every tear pooled along your embroidered dress.

HOUSE TARGARYEN INVITES YOU TO JOIN THE UNION OF: PRINCE JACAERYS VELARYON AND PRINCESS BAELA TARGARYEN.

The reality now stared at you washing away every hope that you held onto as you allowed to love with every pounding moment. This was no one's fault but yours and your lover that kissed you promising he would fight for your hand and no matter what his mother - the queen - said he would never leave you.

That night as you held the rich parchment paper that smelled like oakwood and faint salty waters, you cried loudly as the stars rained down by the permission of the Gods who allowed a shower of sadden angels carry your pain.

Several nights passed and the Vale held a sentiment of loneliness and white silence. Locked away in your chambers you sat with your head empty, your chest remained with a gaping hole. Your heart remained in the hands of the honorable man that begged to see you one last time.

Your eyes were wide open staring blankly at the clouds that moved against your windows. You wore nothing but your sleeping silks. Every single day passed, and you repeated a cycle that was forcing your legs to move towards the warmth waters of your bath and back to the bed. A cycle that never wavered considering the fact you felt like the time had stopped and all you had left was death.

The pages of your book felt hard against your fingers that shivered from the open window of your balcony. Your long hair covered your features from the ravens and the moon that only wanted to console the pain. The door creaked open; your fingers only stopped trailing the words of the passage though you made no move to look at the intruder of your silence.

"You will catch a cold if you allow the cold air in more," the voice that made you weak in the legs made you flutter like a mockingbird's wings. You were afraid to look into the eyes that made you want to drown.

"Can you look at me?" He said as he stepped closer, his red cloak trailed the paleness of your floors. The moon shined a light upon his skin making him glow. "Please."

Your voice was soft, low that at first it sounded like nothing to Jacaerys but then he understood. You never moved; he watched as your hands held onto the hard cover of the book you read tightly; he saw the faint lines of your veins protruding.

"To what can I serve you Prince Jacaerys?"

Your words were like sharp knives stabbing him repeatedly. He deserved it, he failed to convince his mother of his true love. The one he truly wanted to marry and walk along him as his Queen. His mother's words repeated in the back of his head like a reminder of his duties as future king of The Seven Kingdoms.

"As I was your age, I had to marry to bring honor and because it was my duty as heir. I know you will do the same, and there is nothing better than unifying the family and making our blood stronger than marrying Princess Baela."

The burden of being an older son, the heir to the throne suddenly felt too hard for him. He was raised with responsibilities, honor and faith. There was only ever a woman to him and that was you, who avoided his gaze as all he had to gaze softly to be the silhouette of your smooth back.

"Y/n... please. I am deeply --"

You scoffed, throwing your book across the room, you raised your hand to stop him. "I beg your pardon. Are you truly sorry?"

"I am. I wanted to tell you first; I wanted to be the one to deliver my failed attempts to beg my mother to allow me to court you officially instead of hiding in the shadows of our walls!"

Jacaerys never raised his voice, but he was desperate, angry and most of all he was hurt. He was minutes away from walking away from the one person who kept him uphold and strong. You were the person that lifted his spirits, the person he would choose over anyone if he could over and over.

Finally with a tear that slipped from your dull eyes, you faced him, your figure frail and delicate compared to the woman he was used to seeing. The strong, fierce lady of the Vale who was good with her swords stood upon him with dark circles and chapped lips, her hair that was constantly braided in pretty twirls was in tangles.

"You are standing in front of me spurting lies, Prince Jacaerys. I would like for you to leave and never come back."

His title never sounded more humilating than coming from your mouth. He cringed at the coldness of your voice that cracked towards the end. He was not going to leave; he will never leave you.

"No, my lady. I will not."

You sniffled, your lips curling into a tight line.

"What do you want from me? What more do you want? I saw the invitation; I knew this was coming and I was a fool! I held an illusion that you and I could ever be! The worse part of this union is not that we were given false hope but..." You paused, the tears feeling like hot trails of lava down your cold cheeks, "You promised to try."

It was then his strong facade fell. The sounds of your choked sobs that you fought hard to keep within was enough to send him to the pits of the Gullet. He had told Baela of his relationship, and she was regretful, full of pity for her cousin that had no choice but to follow the tradition of their family.

"Go to her Jace," was all she said before she placed a warm hand on his shoulder and a soft kiss on his cheek. "The least you could do is give her peace."

Jacaerys moved, his feet like an instinct walked towards the one that made his heart throb so loudly he feared the Gods heard. You stood with your head in your hands as you sobbed, holding in the cries that began to hurt your chest and throat. He wrapped his strong arms around you, never moving, never once debating if he should step away. When you began to fight against his hold, your yelps of hurt as you swatted at his chest repeatedly, he only held you as he cried with you.

"I love you more than the stars loves the sky, more than the moon loves the sun, more than air and anything in the world."

You sobbed against his chest, your head shaking in disbelief, "No. No. No. No."

Jacaerys held your face, his heart breaking in tiny pieces that had no repair. He cried as he nodded, the tears streamed down his freckled cheeks rapidly, his lashes carrying the droplets of a broken future. "I love you. I do. I love you more than anyone. I am so sorry. I am sorry I failed. I am sorry I cannot give you what I promised --"

You interrupted his ramble as you swallowed his pain with yours. The kiss was wet, desperate and filled with agony that had both lovers crying a future they wanted to fulfil.

"One last time. Please."

Jacaerys broke away in a short exhale, he trembled, "I cannot... Baela."

You smiled softly, "You have not married her, and after today you will never see me again."

He shook his head, denying the cold truth, "No... You cannot leave me. I can try again. I can end the marriage. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives."

You only smiled tearfully, the words igniting a huge hole that had you wanting to throw yourself to an angry dragon at the pit of King's Landing.

"Jacaerys," you shushed him, your hands brushing back the wet strands of his curls, "I love you. My heart is always and forever will be yours."

He gathered you in his arms as he whimpered, "Y/n... please. Don't give up. I have not, I will fight my mother -"

You kissed him once again, this time with more force as you made sure you marked your scent, your presence deep in his skin. He moaned with a deep need to forever be in your hold. He wanted more, he needed you to bond yourself with him one last time.

As you laid him in the fur of your bed, you leaned over him. Capturing his hands as you laid kisses on his palm, memorizing every bump, tethered skin and beauty marks that made him real. He only watched quietly, his hands on your thighs, trailing a path of recorded memories that he will always remember.

Your lips trailed his skin, counting how many kisses and slight bites it took to reach his forbidden lips. Your words marked a poem that will never leave his mind till the day they burn his body by dragon fire.

"In this space right here that we have made for each other," you kissed his chest, your fingers removing every piece of clothing one by one, "You can say anything, and I will not abandon you..." You sat on his lap watching him with teared eyes matching his, slowly you placed your lips upon his, never moving, just allowing the breath of his broken heart ink itself into your soul. Finally, you said, tears flowing, splattering upon Jacaerys' cheeks, "Unwrap the worst things you have done and watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch."

He gasped, his eyes widening when he felt you sink onto his cock so painfully slow all he did was cry as he held you. In a rhythm of loud sobs and tearful kisses, you allowed to be surrendered by the heat of Jacaerys Velaryon, your king, one last time.

Jacaerys never flinched when you marked his skin, he counted every lash on your eyelids, every mark on your skin from the wars you had been through. He kissed and licked every part of your body that left you crying his name out into the cold air. From afar he heard his dragon, his soul bonded mate roar into the air and he smiled. He smiled as you trembled into his hold, he smiled as you opened your eyes as much as you could to watch as his mouth devoured your insides. He smiled against your skin when your fingers tugged into his curls as his tongue was deep in your haven, he smiled when he felt the juices of your nectar flow down his throat, he smiled tearfully against your neck as he profoundly declared the love he had for you.

He smiled with trembling hands that held yours in complete silence as he begged to look at him straight in the eye one last time, coming together from the highs you were going to miss. He groaned as he released his seed deep inside you, marking your walls and your entire being as his.

In silence, you watched as he gathered his things, clipping his cloak onto his vest. He moved towards you and wrapped you around his waist as he prepared a bath for you. When you complained to wash him, he swatted your hand aside.

"What am I to let you do that for me? Tonight, let me treat you my beautiful love."

You did not know how much you could cry, but every touch of his had you with a final decision. Life without Jacaerys was not possible. So, as he playfully ticked you, and washed your hair delicately with a gentle smile on his tired face you stared in silence, memorizing for the final moments of your life how it felt to be loved by a man who had no choice but to follow a duty.

He sat by you, his back pressed against the headboard of your wide bed, you laid against him. He said nothing and you were okay with that fact. You were also just appreciating the happiest times of your life. His fingers played with your hands as he laid kisses on your head, he took a deep breath, breathing in your scent of vanilla.

He swore as he heard you fall asleep against him, mummering against the open shoulder of yours, "I promise, I will make you my wife, my Queen, no matter the consequence. You and I are meant to rule together. I promise."

That promise never became true.

On a full moon, where the stars rained down from the heavens. The rushed steps he took as he desperately wanted to make his petition to his mother. He stopped, the hopeful smile that laid on his lips slipping, there, beside his mother stood Lady Jeyne Arryn in black. His eyes quickly scanned for your bright, beautiful face, seeing you nowhere, he felt the surge of pain. The pain was so deep it felt like he was burned alive, like water seeping into his lungs and he wanted to scream for help.

On the night of a half-moon, hidden behind numerous clouds, no stars in sight, you had taken your life in the cruelest way. Among the highest mountain where you had given your maidenhood to the love of your life, you had taken poison. The guards of your home found you with a smile on your face as your entire body was covered in blood, you choked in your own blood as the crows made a feast of your cold body. Upon records, you went missing for a week, the day after you saw Jacaerys you had met with a witch to make a drink to die peacefully.

With holes in your body, like the hole of your chest you refused to live further with, you laid at peace knowing that perhaps in another universe like the stories in the library, you had found a forever with the prince.

There Jacaerys stood years later, now with a crown on his head. Life without you was hard, but he pushed beyond the pain he felt every single passing moon. He knew you would have wanted him to live. So he did, he lived and began his rule. Jacaerys the Gentle, the Wise. The kingdom never saw their king with a smile, and stories will tell of the tale of doomed lovers and the Queen who could have been.

Vermax stood by his rider, growling in pain. He too missed your presence. Jacaerys stood quietly, his face now older, the age of two and nine now making its way to his once youthful features. A tear fell upon his stoic face, he smiled as he saw a shooting star flash across the skies.

He vowed, knowing you could hear him. He believed it. He knew that every brush of wind that made itself known, was you. He knew that every time he flew across the skies, and he saw the skies filled with stars, was you.

"If the Gods have her, or to whom, protects her until we meet again. Please tell her, that when the sun goes down, I think of her. Please tell her, that I never once forgot the sound of her voice calling my name." He choked in his begging, "Please. To whoever has her, please let her know that she lives in my heart and that everywhere I go I will always, forever see her face."

A flower was left in the spot you were found years ago. As King Jacaerys Targaryen flew away, he softly reminded the wide skies that carried a love, "I love you, always and forever, till we meet again my love."

TAGLISTS:

jace nation (open): @thenotesapppoet @agqrtz @girlthatislost @writtenapoiogy @vividxpages @smurfelle @number-0-iz @star611 @intheheartoftheking @nixtape-foryou @velaryonbastard @still-jon-snow @ethereal-athalia natties angel list (open): @aemondvelaryon @peri4stral @yohanseyebrowmole mooties, slut cult: @cregnstark @divinesolas @hxtd @benjinotes @bucksplum @eldrith @princessbellecerise @xxselenite @bryscorner @vee-mage @v3lary0ns @swordgrace @housetargaryenloyalist @astrxq @manhandlememando

[persicipen]

after the rain ノ neuvillette

ৎ୭ — · · 0.9k ノ gn reader — fluffy hurt to comfort . insecure neuvi ノ subtle hugs and kisses . comforting him after the rain ノ slightly rewritten old fic <3

The world outside, glistening from the dew on the ground, seems to mirror the turmoil within the Chief Justice of Fontaine, now curled on the sofa right next to you, his silhouette not as powerful and admirable as usual. His eyes — sharp and perceptive in the courtroom — are now veiled by a shroud of doubt. Their typical iridescence now dull, forgotten pearls in the cracks of the rocky shore, roughened by sand and salty waves, depleted of its shine.

He finds himself troubled by the complexities of his own heart and the dimmed shades of morality.

The weight of expectations, the ones he dispensed with an unyielding hand, has taken its toll. As you observe him in this hushed ambience, it’s as if you’ve been granted access to a hidden chapter of his life, a glimpse behind the curtain of his public persona.

The low sun of the afternoon paints rainbows in the myriad little raindrops that cling to the windowpane like scattered jewels; each droplet captures a fragment of light, forming a dazzling mosaic of colours, their wet traces meandering down the glass surface. The sky is slowly turning orange and pink, gaining its healthy blush after the downpour, the dark clouds lazily gliding away beyond the horizon. The bloom reflects in Neuvillette’s amethyst eyes, a sight so breathtakingly beautiful and hurtful you can’t pull your gaze away.

He was crying. Again.

You caress his cheek gently, fingers seeking to soothe the damp imprints left by his tears. It’s a delicate touch, a gesture of empathy in front of his unspoken pain.

“You’re more than enough, Neuvillette.” You whisper softly.

He shudders, his breath uneven, and you take a closer look at his eyes — the pearlescent blue in them so mesmerising, still gorgeous despite the saddened gaze.

Neuvillette glances back at you, his expression softening for a little while, but as quickly as it appeared, the tenderness retreats, once again veiled by the weight of sorrow that grips his heart.

“I don’t deserve any of the respect the whole Fontaine is offering me…” His voice is barely above a whisper, still interrupted with muted sobs. “Perhaps I truly don’t understand them.”

“Don’t say that, Neuvillette.” Your voice is almost pleading as you look at him, trying to convey as much care as you can give to him to get the message through without hurting him when he’s so vulnerable right before you.

“I don’t feel anything. I’m just…” he trails off, looking away, as if ashamed to finish the sentence.

You brush your thumb over his cheek, wiping his dried tears away, and his eyes flutter shut under the long lashes; he finally allows himself to enjoy the feeling of your gentle touch, soothing his soul slowly with each passing moment.

It’s almost heartbreaking to see him like this. He carries himself in public with such strict elegance that it wouldn’t sound too far-fetched to assume some might see it as arrogance, yet it was nothing but a shield to hide his doubts and inner loneliness.

The confidence was not false per se, but similar to those ornated masks worn at the annual masquerade ball. You know it must have been very difficult to confess.

“Think how many people are grateful for what you’ve been doing to Fontaine for all these years.” You lean in and plant a soft kiss on his temple, his body relaxing against yours, curling closer into a hug; despite his height and broad shoulders, he feels right now like a lost little creature searching for a safe place to rest and to feel loved, and you wish you could protect him forever. “You keep their lives forever just and safe, because they know they can always turn to you and find the truth.”

He sighs heavily into the crook of your neck, warm breath against your skin, trying his best to calm down. You keep petting his hair gently, fingers intertwined with silver locks affectionately.

“Please never leave my side,” he murmurs against your neck, and it feels like the most intimate moment, just you and him, and the only thing you can do is press another gentle kiss on the top of his head.

“I won’t. Ever.” You say, and there is nothing more important to him than your promise, his heart melting warmly in his chest.

You both cuddle on the velvet cushions of the sofa, the setting sun casting long, warm shadows across the spacious room. The air still smells of the freshly brewed tea and the passing rain, the sound of distant birds singing returning after the weather.

Neuvillette seems calmer now, relaxed in your arms. He is vulnerable during such moments, his eyes looking deep into your soul, bright irises absorbing every little detail of your features so he can hold your face in his memory. His hand finds yours, and you hold it tight, caressing the skin of his palm.

It feels nice to have this closeness, to be able to experience his loving gaze upon you without feeling uneasy or too self-conscious.

Your fingertips brush along the shape of his knuckles, tracing the hem of his sleeves, slightly crumpled after a weary day of work. He closes his eyes, relishing the touch of your hand, those little sensations like gentle breezes of tenderness slowly dissipating the doubts that were troubling his mind.

You watch him as his gaze shifts towards the window, taking in the beautiful colours of the evening. His expression is soft, a hint of a melancholic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He then snuggles closer to you once again and whispers into your ear the barely audible words full of devotion.

“I love you.”

A ribbon of trust spoken in the silk of his voice.

“And I love you, too.”

[achilles-rage]

okay but imagine being buck's neighbour, and showing up to his apartment one night because you're sad :(

he'd be so eager to comfort you <33

“he broke up with me.” you mumble as soon as buck opens the door, pushing past him and padding into his apartment.

he sees your tear stained cheeks immediately and freezes, and it’s your quiet sniffle that finally breaks him out of his haze. he closes the door and turns on his heel, following you into his space and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the couch.

“what happened?” he asks you in a gentle voice. you turn and look at him again before you sit on the couch, a frown on your pretty lips, and his heart shatters.

“he was cheating on me.” is all you say. you look down, almost embarrassed to admit it, and he has to fight back a scoff. how could your idiot boyfriend possibly find someone better than you? it completely baffles him, but he pushes it to the side; you obviously need to be comforted right now.

he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pushing you flush against him. you let out a shaky breath as he does, reacting immediately by wrapping your arms around his torso. he rubs your back soothingly as you cry softly into his chest, and his heart clenches. he wishes so badly that he could take your pain away, or better yet, that he could teach your ex boyfriend a lesson. but, you’re more important right now.

“you need anything?” he whispers against your ear, resting his cheek against the top of your head. you sniffle before you speak up, lifting your chin to look up at him.

“do you have any tea?” you whisper in a groggy voice. he smiles softly, and nods, and then releases you from his arms begrudgingly.

“you go sit. i’ll make some for you.” you nod, then sit on the couch, bringing your feet up onto the couch and crossing your legs.

as he makes your tea, he tries not to think about how badly he wants to kiss you. how badly he wants to help you forget about your ex. but, he knows he can’t, not yet. he’ll have to wait a little while, as not to take advantage of your fragile state.

after a couple of minutes he returns with two mugs, handing one to you and placing the other on the coffee table. you thank him softly, then take a small sip before you move to set yours beside his. he sits beside you, resting his arm behind you on the back of the couch.

“come here.” he urges you softly, and you oblige immediately, leaning against him rather than the arm of the couch. all you want right now is physical contact, and you relax into his embrace. he smiles to himself as you rest against him, fighting the urge to pull you right onto his lap and kiss your tears away.

he knew he had to have you the first time he saw you. you had just moved into the apartment beside his, and you came to his door with a sheepish smile on your face, apologizing profusely about any disturbance your dad and brother may have caused while arguing as they were helping you move in.

you were a soft, sweet thing, and so so pretty. and he was hooked.

after that, he did everything to keep running into you, and eventually became your friend. the only problem was your stupid boyfriend, who he quite frankly, didn’t think deserved you.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks after a few moments of silence. he feels you shake your head against his shoulder, and he hums softly in response. you just need some company right now, and he’s more than happy to stay right here.

“can we just, stay here for a while.” you whisper. he nods, mumbling a quick “of course” as he rubs his thumb over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. he grabs the tv remote beside him and turns on the tv, putting on a random show to help keep your mind off of your idiot ex.

before long, your eyes flutter shut, your steady breathing signalling to him that you’ve fallen asleep. he stays in the same position for a while, then lowers the volume of the tv to almost zero, and slowly and gently maneuvers himself off the couch. he lowers you to lay on the couch, making sure your head is on a pillow, then covers you with a blanket. the last thing he wants is for you to wake up cold or uncomfortable.

he watches your sleeping form for a minute before he finally turns and makes his way up to his bedroom. one day, you’ll be sleeping in his bed with him. he's sure of it. but today, he’s perfectly happy that you’re sleeping on his couch. in his apartment. because that means that you ran to him while you were in pain. that you came to him to make you feel better. and that makes his heart swell with hope.

you’re going to be his one day. he just knows it.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @officiallyalbino @wanniiieeee @dreams-encapsulated-in-glamour @buckandeddiesverison @catkight @tatyhend @emilysuperswag @kulteule @korosevren @nyx3028 @sporadicmakerwerewolf @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @rafecameronsloverrrrr @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @uhmidkmuch @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @sammiejane22 @boybandbaby (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in searches or i can’t tag you!)