#On the other hand in 8 years I still don't know how to do eyes properly... And so the hairs (more easy in color though)

[pedricos]

hector fort prompt #8? x

Héctor Fort – don't cry, i hate it when you cry .ᐟ

a.n: its been so long since i wrote a angst, sorry if its not so good.. also, english is not my first language, srry for any mistakes

warnings: light angst, comforting ending, light suggestive joke at the end (1,4k words)

why were they so mean to you?

you meet your boyfriend way before him becoming a barcelona star.

you two were only six when you met, both your families already being friends for ages. you basically grew up together! he was your first crush at middle school, when you would watch his games when he was still so little. he was also, your first kiss.

before entering high school, you never had kissed anyone. you were painful inexperienced, but héctor was the one teaching you how to kiss properly, and being patient with you, no matter how many times you got the tongue timing wrong. you can almost get a laugh from the way he tells the story.

he asked you to be his girlfriend when you both were 15, so young and full of love and admiration already. he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever, and he never liked a girl this much before, and for you, he's the cutest guy! he's just so sweet and always made you laugh so much.

and by the eyes of everyone around you, you two were the cutest couple! just by knowing eachother so well for so long and having so much charisma together. it was a joy to see how much you love and the good you do to each other. his family loved having you around in the holidays, and yours always welcomed him so well on the weekends.

but suddenly, nothing you do is enough anymore. you can't even tell the moment you started to try and prove yourself to the others. and you know, if he wanted, there would be thousands of girls by his feet, waiting the right moment of your fall.

in the stadiums, the hysterical girls screaming his name to get his attention wouldn't even bat an eye at you, completely ignoring your presence; pushing you to the side to crowd him and ask for a photo, or for him to sign their shirts.

you let slide. maybe this time they didn't see you. right? it happenes!

then, his fans cut you out of the photo he posted, but kepts his non-player friends in it. its okay, right? it's a fan page for him and not for you anyways.

but when when you post a picture, they did the same things. obviously cropping your whole body out of the picture. the picture you liked so much because it's you, walking hand in hand, with your boyfriend by the beach of the aphrodisiac island you were visiting with his family.

you let slide the comments on your body.

“she deff gained a lot of weight 🤣”

⠀⠀⠀→ “is she pregnant???”

“why your body look like that lool”

“héctor deserves better smh”

⠀⠀⠀→ “he so doeeess!”

what does this have to do with the photo? it was just a sweet picture of you and your boyfriend sat side by side in a nice restaurant, the photo was taken by his parents, who sat parallel to you.

and everything suddenly became too much.

why did they hate you so much? was because they wanted to get to héctor? was something personal? what did you do besides being his long term girlfriend? were they mad that you're not a plastic, fake-blonde, face sculptured ig model who was with him just for his fame?

you were so much better than them and their fake white teeth.

héctor always complimented your natural beauty so much, he even gets mad seeing you compare yourself with these full edited ig models. you have such a natural aura, your little crooked smile, your natural light freckles, the little moles caused by the sun, your natural blush.

sometimes he would think you're the one that is too much for him. he loved you so very much, but was just as scared of loosing you to a better player. but you never thought that way, because he was the one for you.

since you were 15, he was the one. since you were 6 years old holding a little flower he picked up for you. since you were 12 crying because nobody but him showed up for your birthday party. he was the one to be always there.

and why now being with him was so hard since loving him is so easy.

you didn't even noticed when you started crying in the shower. the water running along with the tears, a mix of your sobs along with the water running. you just ducked your head under the shower, letting it clean away your sadness.

you came out of the shower just as sad as you came in, but what could you do? the evening was silent as you wondered around the house by yourself, héctor still training. you only put on your comfiest pajamas and layed down on your empty king bed.

“i'm home!” your boyfriend announced, only to find a dark living room. he was so used to have you on his arms as soon as he stepped back home. he took his shoes off, wondering if maybe you were in the kitchen; but nothing. just as dark and empty as the sofa.

“y/n? hermosa?” he enters the shared bedroom, eyebrows immediately frowning as he found you crying your heart out on the bed. your eyes were puffy and your nose a dark pink color, signaling that you've been crying for a good while now, “hey, it’s me, it's fine” he pulls you in a tight hug.

you could only burry your face in his chest, smelling his fragrance as you tried to control your breath, sighing repeatly, trying to catch your breath. “qué pasó? why are you crying?” he cups your face to have a better look at you. (what happened?)

your puffy eyes and cheeks, tears never stopping to roll down your face and your nose pretty pink; he could almost find you cute. you tried to explain why you're so sad but couldn't even stop crying, chocking on your own tears as they fell uncontrollably, “shh, breathe first!” he runs his hands up and down your back.

“why do they hate me so much?” is all you can verbalize before hiding your face on his chest once again, letting yourself cry out loud, “who’s 'they', princesa?” he reaches to grab your phone as it sat unlocked next to your pillow.

he almosts cry along with you. if his fans really loved him, why would they attack the person he loved the most? they had no reason to call you all this names, you were his princess, his little girl, not any of these bad words on your comment section.

he pulls away your body from his, fixing a loose strand of hair that sat on your face, putting it behind your ear. one of his hand find your cheek, caressing it so softly with his thumb. why do they hate you so much? he was so full of love for you, why would anyone hate on you?

“i’m with you, y/n. i’m with you because i love you so much and i chose you! i choose everyday since i was fifteen years old, and i didn't stopped loving you a day ever since!” he kisses your forehead, hand creeping to the back of your head, caressing your neck through your hair.

“don’t cry, okay? i hate it when you cry” his words make you realize how luck you are.

after all, you're the one he comes home to, you're the one he brought a ring you can only buy once in your life, you're the one he's waiting to marry since he was a kid.

“i even brought flowers and your favorites snacks to celebrate our anniversary.. but i don't know if you're hungry” he sounds so calm, but you can't help but blame youself for forgetting such an important day, “no preparé nada... lo siento” you wipe away your last few tears. (i didn't prepared anything.. sorry)

“i don't mind it, i just want to be with you” he pulls you for a sweet kiss. no fight for dominance nor lust, just love and caring. just the longing he felt the whole day, thinking about you every second, wanting to be home as soon as possible, just to be with you.

“i can make you cry more later.. happy tears" he gives you a smirk.

“héctor!” you laugh as you slap his chest.

he's right here, with you.

check out my masterlist .ᐟ

i have such a annoying migraine rn, but ill try to write some more requests!! 🥹

i will be re-opening the requests soon!! bye bye, hope u like it 💋

[evaskjew]

Well, I'm fed up with not being able to draw a decent picture of my MC 😫🤧

So this time I made my second MC: Warren 💛 (I also made his student ID card)

It took me 7 to 8 hours to do it (including 3 and a half hours just to do his face)

A really old-fashioned drawing, just like in 2016 when I started drawing realistically on a whim 😁 (I even reused techniques from back then when I didn't have any materials haha)

Well, I've had a bit of trouble with monochrome since I tried colour but... It's a bit like Proust's Madelaine to get back to basics 🥰

Well I'm a fraud, I shifted the outlines 🙏🏻😔 (I was already doing this in 2016 and unfortunately I've kept this bad habit.... At the same time I have trouble drawing, I'm just good at "colouring"... Anyway you can see what I've transferred to the image on the left below)

[xneens]

wasted summer - one

series masterlist

watching jj like someone else hurts, thankfully, you finds comfort in rafe’s arms … and his bed.

Music boomed in your ears, the party in full swing as you made your way upstairs, away from the guys smoking weed and girls dancing to Kanye West. Using a guest room on the third floor, you opened the window and crawled out onto the roof. With a drink in hand, you watched partygoers jump into the Cameron's pool, observing the party from afar.

Taking a sip of the cheap vodka JJ had gotten, you glanced at the blond, a frown on your lips as you saw him sweep Kiara off her feet, jumping into the pool with her. Kiara likes JJ, that much you know is true after she had drunkenly confessed during a girl's night out. Bitterness grew inside you as you watched him respond to her subtle flirting, praying desperately he didn't return her feelings but your own.

You look away, downing the rest of the cup before throwing it off the roof in hopes of it hitting someone. Hopefully either one of them, but they were still playing in the pool. Together.

"Littering on my property? Harsh." a voice behind you murmurs as he crawls out the window, sitting beside you on the roof. Rafe grins at you, bringing the blunt to his lips.

You roll your eyes, keeping them on him instead of the heartwrenching scene below you. "Like you haven't littered at my house before. Payback."

"So vengeful ever since you started hanging out with those Pogues." Rafe chuckles, offering you a hit off his blunt. You decline it with a wave of your hand and he shrugs, taking another hit off of it.

Glancing back at JJ and Kiara, you can't help the pang in your heart as you watch them play in the pool, splashing each other with large smiles on their faces. Sighing, you look back at Rafe, suddenly wishing you'd brought a bottle of Titos with you.

Rafe arches a brow, a smirk dancing on his lips. "What're you doing up here, anyways? Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Scooby gang?"

Not wanting to be in his eyesight, you lay down on the roof, staring at the night sky, the lights from the party polluting the starry sky. "I needed a break."

"From those dirty Pogues?"

You smack his arm, causing the blond to burst out laughing. "Stop bullying my friends."

"Bullying works," replied Rafe, shifting to mirror your position. He groans softly as he lays back on the roof. "Remember Agatha Haynes? She no longer smokes fifty cigarettes a day after you called her Hagatha."

A snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. You shake your head. "God, I was a bitch."

"You still are." Rafe dodges another smack, a teasing grin slapped across his face. "Still the spoiled, snobby, selfish girl you were. You're just better at hiding it now."

"Oh, and the hits just keep coming." You groan out dramatically, smiling back at him. "I'll have you know that I am very empathetic and care about other people's feelings.”

The blond shakes his head, taking a hit from his blunt. "Is that why you're hiding out from your gang of mutts? Because you care about them so much you don't want them to know you're suffering in silence?"

"I wish you'd suffer in silence."

"Woah, don't violate the thirteenth-year truce," Rafe replies, drawing out a reluctant smile from you.

Rafe was ... Rafe. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth, acted like every rich kid from Figure 8, only worse, and knew how to get his way. The only fight the blond had lost was to a coked-out tourist to who Rafe ironically sold the coke.

Most people didn't see that he could be nice when he wanted to. You always held it above everyone that Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you, even if it only came from being his little sister's best friend. Still, it was nice to be one of the few people not to be on the receiving side of his hostility, a side Sarah was constantly on.

It was a weird friendship built on a truce made by four and six-year-olds. During your fourth birthday party, Rafe had gifted you with a promise to never be the cause of your tears and you promised to never cut holes in his tighty whities again.

After a few minutes of silence, Rafe turns his head to look at you, exhaling out smoke. "Seriously, though, why are you hiding?"

"Not hiding, taking a break." You correct him, refusing to meet his eyes. He wasn't completely wrong, you were hiding from your friends, specifically two of them.

"That's such bullshit." scoffs the man next to you, rolling his eyes at your words. "Tell me."

You groan, covering your face with your hands in hopes of hiding your embarrassment from him. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Stop being nosy."

Rafe snickers, putting his blunt out before grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face gently. Eyes filled with serenity, a sight only you and Wheezie ever got to see. "Tell me, you know I won't tell anyone."

Your playful pout makes his grin widen. "You'll make fun of me."

"Me? After our truce?" asks Rafe, throwing his head back in laughter. "Never."

After contemplating whether to lie to his face, you sigh, rubbing your temples. It couldn't hurt to tell him, it's not as if he ever told anyone stuff you've told him before. "Kiara likes JJ. And ... I think he likes her back."

An awkward moment of silence hangs in the air before Rafe inhales sharply. "Oh. I didn't realize you wanted to fuck the help."

"Rafe." your tone made him throw his hands up in surrender. Staring back up at the sky, you scrunched your nose. "I kind of like him. It just sucks a little seeing them so touchy with each other and flirting in my face. If they become official, then I'll literally be the only person in the friend group without anyone. I'll be a seventh wheel and that's so fucking pathetic."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," says Rafe, scoffing. "My sister found someone who puts up with her shit, you'll have an easier chance finding a boyfriend. If you don't like anyone, I'll volunteer."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his not-so-comforting words. "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

The blond chortled, sitting up. "I'm serious. Anyone who isn't blind can see you're clearly much better than those idiots you hang around. The girls you hung out with were annoying as hell but at least they were better than those group of Pogues."

"How very Kook of you to say," you mutter back, not taking Rafe's words earnestly. Shifting, you sit up, eyes flickering back to the pool, immediately spotting Sarah and John B., Pope and Cleo, and JJ and Kiara still playing with each other. "I don't know, they probably don't care I'm not with them right now."

You could feel Rafe's eyes burning a hole in your face, his lack of insults to throw at your friends making you uncomfortable. Anything was better than silence when it came to Rafe. Silence meant he was thinking and you almost always never liked what he was thinking of.

He stands up before holding his hand out, gesturing for you to take it. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. It'll cheer you up."

You immediately take his hand, standing up. "Don't need to convince me."

"None of that cheap shit you've been drinking. My dad has some expensive whiskey he keeps in his study." Rafe adds, climbing back through the window with you right behind him. He doesn't let go of your hand, even after you climb back inside.

Rafe leads you through the swarm of people in the hall, heading towards the second floor for his dad's office. He pushes a guy away from the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you to enter. You step across the threshold, glancing around Ward's office as Rafe shuts the door behind him.

You'd been in Ward's office a handful of times, most times with Sarah and one time with Ward himself when you had skinned your knee riding a bike and he bandaged it up. Being inside the warm-lit room with Rafe felt strange and slightly tense.

Plopping down on the big leather couch, you watch Rafe walk towards the desk, raiding his father's desk drawer until he finds the big bottle of GlenDronach. He grabs two glasses, sitting down beside you as he pours the amber liquid.

You scrunch your nose at the smell. "God, I can smell the hangover."

Rafe smirks, pouring too much into both of the glasses, capping the bottle back up. "Nah, if anything this will help you sleep. It goes down smooth."

You take the glass from Rafe, wincing at the strong musk of the whiskey before downing half the bottle like a shot, immediately coughing after swallowing it down. Rafe's brows furrowed as he watched you slam the half-filled glass down on the coffee table, exasperated. "That did not go down smooth."

"It's sipping whiskey, you don't drink it like a shot of vodka." the blond clarifies, judgment and confusion in his tone. "Who the hell takes a shot of whiskey?"

Glaring at him, you cough out the burning in your throat. "Get me a Sprite, motherfucker."

An amused smirk dances on his lips as he stands up and opens Ward's mini fridge, pulling out a cold can of Sprite. He opens it before handing it to you, sitting back down. "I just witnessed a crime."

You gurgle half the can, soothing your burning throat before glaring at him. "I don't like the taste of alcohol, I just drink it to get drunk. Besides, people who actually enjoy the taste are psychopaths."

"You never miss the chance to tell me I am," Rafe replies, grinning as he takes a more moderate sip of his whiskey. He makes an approving expression, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You can have mine. I hate it." You push the glass in front of Rafe, leaning back on the couch. Rafe sipped his glass of single malt whiskey while you drank a can of Sprite. "Worse thing I've swallowed. And there's competition."

Rafe makes a face at that, shaking his head. "Please, no details of how the help was in your mouth."

Smacking his arm caused a drop of his whiskey to spill over the side. "Stop calling my friends the help, you snarky asshole."

The blond gives you a look, setting his glass back down on the table. "Maybank helped me carry my golf clubs at the club last week. I can't think of a better title for him. It's in the name."

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink. Rafe could carry his own golf clubs so you knew he sought out JJ's help specifically to taunt and mock him. "If I get the lifeguard job, are you gonna start calling me the help?"

His eyes softened slightly, head tilting towards yours. "No, of course not. You're far better than anyone else, even if you decide to get an unnecessary job.”

"Even better than you?" you arch a brow, watching his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.

"Always," replies Rafe.

Heat pools in your stomach, the whiskey's delayed effect. You glance away from Rafe's sharp eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift on the couch, making yourself more comfortable. "It's not unnecessary, by the way. The job. It looks good on my transcripts."

"Hm, still going to Charleston?"

You shrug, staring at the insurmountably large portrait of Denmark Tanney in Ward's office. "I don't know. My parents want me to, and I'll get into it but I don't wanna be so close to home, you know?"

Rafe's brows furrowed, a frown tugging on his lips. "Where are you thinking?"

"Either New Orleans or London," you answer, pulling a laugh out of Rafe. "Yeah, a wide range of possibilities for me."

"You don't wanna go to Charleston?" questioned Rafe, his eyes never leaving yours. A look of displeasure passes his face. "It's not that close, seven hours."

You make a face, shaking your head. "Seven hours is too close for me.”

The blond scoffed, leaning forward to sip his whiskey.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you observed him. Teasingly, you ask. "What, you gonna miss me when I leave?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rafe replied, downing the rest of his glass. He shifts on the couch, placing his arms on top of it, giving you a sardonic grin. "I think Charleston is far enough."

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time that night, you lay your head back, sighing. "You can come visit me anytime. Just don't bring anyone. Especially not Topper or Kelce."

"Ah, I wouldn't wanna walk in on you and your victims." jokes Rafe, patting your thigh softly. "Wouldn't be the first."

You laugh, winking at him. "Maybe you'll be my next victim."

Rafe raises a brow, leaning back slightly as he stares at you. "Don't tease me, I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Yes, I think that was clear when you sent Tom Schnitzel to the ER for trying to drug me," you reply, inhaling sharply at the memory. You were positive you still had Tom's blood stained onto the white top from that night. "Thanks for that, by the way. I don't think I properly thanked you for that."

Rafe waves it away with a hand, standing. "Don't worry about it. I needed to get it out that night, anyway. Come on, I have something to show you."

Curious, you follow Rafe out of the office, walking down the hall to his room. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter. Immediately, you plop down on his bed, laying out on the soft mattress as he closes the door behind him. You watch him walk towards his dresser, turning around with a small jewelry box, a bow sitting on the top.

"What's that for?" you ask, taking the box from Rafe, and inspecting it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, eyes watching you fiddle with the box. "Your birthday present."

"It's not for another month."

Rafe shrugs, grinning. "Consider it your early birthday present, then. Come on, open it."

Tilting your head, you lift the top from it, the diamond tennis bracelet sparkling as soon as the light hits it. You gasped softly, taking the bracelet from its mold, watching in fascination as the diamonds danced in the light.

"Holy shit, Rafe," you mutter, inspecting the bracelet. "What the fuck? How much was it?"

The blond chuckled, taking the bracelet and unlocking the hook. He gestured for you to put your wrist out. "Real diamonds. None of that lab-grown bullshit. Don't worry, the cost didn't even dent my account."

You give him a look, allowing him to put the bracelet on your wrist and shake it as soon as it's on. "I told you before that I don't want expensive gifts from my friends. Just my parents."

"I'd like to think I'm more than one of your obnoxious friends," replies Rafe, causing you to give him a look. He snickered, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Last time, I swear."

"Highly doubt that." you turn your attention back to the bracelet, smirking at how it looked against your skin. "Thank you, though. It's really pretty."

Rafe stares at you, blue eyes watching you admire his present. "Yeah, beautiful."

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and drinks prior. Heat pools in your stomach as your eyes meet his. Clearing your throat, you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Best present I got this year."

He smirks, laying his head down on a pillow, watching as you mirror his movement. "Yeah? Do I get to be your favorite until I piss you off?"

"Of course. I give it five minutes." you tease, grinning when Rafe smacks you with a pillow softly. You dodge his second hit, rolling closer to him, your arm pressed against his. "I was kidding! You'll be my favorite forever."

"That's more like it," Rafe says, a satisfied grin slapped across his face.

You groan softly, rolling onto your side to face the blond, eyes closing. The party was still going on downstairs, the loud thumping of the music heard two stories up. Your mind briefly flickered to what was happening with JJ and Kiara until Rafe's fingers ghosted over your side.

"I swear to god if you're gonna tickle me, Cameron," you grumble, eyes still closed, feeling his fingers roam around until they hit your stomach.

Rafe chuckles quietly, fingers stroking the ribcage tattoo you had gotten with Sarah. "When did you get this?"

"A week ago." you giggle as he runs his fingers up, touching your neck. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately slap his hand away, your brand new bracelet swinging slightly from the movement. "Rafe. You know how ticklish I am."

"Sorry," he smirks, tone unapologetic. His hand drifts to your hips, fingers playing with your cutoff shorts. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the Jenga incident."

Your nose scrunches at that, remembering the night you spent at the ER. "It was an accident."

"Still sticking to that story?"

"You moved your head."

"You threw a glass at my head." Rafe corrected, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

Scowling at him, you shake your head. "No, I threw it at the wall behind you. You moved your head at the last second and had to get five stitches."

"If you weren't so fucking competitive ..." Rafe teases, trailing off.

You bite your tongue, letting the subject go with great difficulty, but managing to not bite back. Closing your eyes again, you let your muscles alleviate. "Hm. Whatever."

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, the alcohol in your system and Rafe's soft bed allowing you to relax despite the loud music creeping through the walls. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you felt your body intense, the bed cradling you.

Rafe's hand drifts slowly up your hip, fingertips softly brushing against the sliver of bare stomach before slipping slightly under the hem of your top. Your eyes flutter up at the movement, watching as his thumb draws circles on your skin.

Goosebumps arise, and you suddenly realize how close he is, not even a foot away. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wetten his own. Your breath gets caught in your throat, his face somehow closer now.

Maybe it was the alcohol you've consumed trying to forget your own despair or an excuse to get your mind off JJ and Kiara, but you watched as Rafe brought his lips to yours, not pulling back when the taste of whiskey invades your mouth.

A hand caressing your cheek, Rafe rolled over on top of you, his elbows holding up his weight as he kissed you. His tongue sought entry to your mouth, biting your bottom lip. You gasped slightly at the feel, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, your lips parting slightly as Rafe's tongue sweeps in.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a string of soft kisses along your collarbone. Tilting your head back, you give him better access, running your hands through his hair, a soft content sigh escaping your lips.

He nips at your collarbones before sucking a mark into your skin, just right above your breast causing you to mewl at the touch, your hands drifting to his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging into his skin. You meet his eyes, his ocean blues now darkened like the water during a storm.

Something comes over your body, seeing Rafe in a new light. Suddenly needy and impatient, your hands tugged at the hem of Rafe's black polo, pleading silently for him to take it off. Taking your hint, he sits up, taking it off in one swift move, tossing it on the floor.

You'd never admit it, not even to Rafe–especially to Rafe, but you'd always loved his abs. The definition of the, so toned, tanned, and delectable. He may have been your friend, but you weren't blind to his looks, and definitely how his abs looked when he flexed them.

As your fingers traced the defined line down his stomach, Rafe's hands slid under your top until the tips of his fingers met the fabric of your bikini top. Needing more, a lot more, you sit up, ridding yourself of the offensive clothing. You heard Rafe groan, pushing you back onto the bed, eyes roaming the sight of the hot pink bikini top you still wore, the top so little it was hardly covering your nipples.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, reaching out and pulling off the top quickly, the thin string breaking at the force, your tits spilling out. You gasped, nipples hardening in the cold air. Rafe groaned at the sight, hands cupping your breasts, his breath hitting your nipples. "Fucking incredible."

You arched your back, moaning softly as his tongue wettens a nipple before taking it into his mouth. His teeth nibble it, sucking and teasing the hard bud while his fingers play with the other, rolling it between his fingers. Rafe pinches it gently, looking up at you with a smirk when you mewl.

Running your hands over Rafe's back, you feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles, wetness pooling at the thought of kissing every single inch of his torso. Before he could take the other nipple into his mouth, you pull his lips back to yours, wrapping an arm around his neck as a hand runs down his back, nails scratching his spine.

Rafe's hand moves down your sides, fingers playing with the button of your shorts. Pulling back from the kiss, he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly–and agonizingly–sliding them off. The cutoffs pile onto his shirt on the floor.

You know Rafe's experienced, so are you, but you swore he almost looked nervous as he stared down at you, his hands slightly shaky as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your matching pink thong. Those join the discarded clothing on his bedroom floor.

He looks like a man starved as his eyes focus on your bare cunt, hungry and almost animalistic as he leans closer to your glistening pussy, nose nearly touching the clit. "You're already so wet."

Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, hands grasping the sheets as his finger leisurely dips into your wet pussy, your lips parting slightly. His thumb touches your clit, rubbing it gently. You groan, hips bucking at the feel, needing more. "Fuck."

Rafe smirks, pushing a finger into your cunt, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. He adds a second before you could come down from the small high. "Look at you, so needy and desperate."

Before you could think of a retort, he leans down to replace his thumb with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust inside you, gaining speed. The sight of Rafe's head between your legs, his tongue flicking your clit was so erotic, the vision enough for you to get wetter. You throw your head back, your fingers tangling in Rafe's hair as you pull his head closer to your dripping pussy, a moan filling the room.

His fingers hit that spot inside you, causing a surprise whimper from your lips to escape. Rafe pauses, glancing up at you, pride in his eyes before he doubles his efforts, his fingers curling to reach that spot. He sucks your clit, nibbling it when you tug his hair.

"Rafe," you moan, arching your back. You push his head deeper between your thighs, pussy clenching around his fingers, so close to falling off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"That's right, say my fucking name when you cum on my fingers," Rafe grunted, his fingers plunging in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He licks your clit, staring up as you come closer.

A dripping mess, you buck your hips up as Rafe continues his relentless actions on your pussy, moans of pleasure filling the room. His free hand moves up your torso, cupping your breast before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You lose it when he pinches it harshly, moaning loudly as you come undone, pussy clenching around his fingers, throbbing. You whimper out his name, your hand gripping his hair. "Fuck!"

Rafe laps it all up, replacing his fingers with his tongue, hands holding your legs open as you attempt to close them, your clit sensitive. He runs his tongue along your pussy, lapping up your juices, groaning at the taste, unable to pull himself away.

He licks his lips, staring possessively at your cunt before looking up at you with a proud smile. "You taste so fucking good."

He then proves it to you, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You taste yourself on him as you kiss him back, lips moving against each other. As you come down from the high, you roll him over, straddling his torso. You move your lips to his neck, marking it until you kiss down his chest. Meeting his eyes, you run your tongue down his abs, kissing every individual one.

You move to straddle his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants, much opposite of his agonizingly slow approach. Rafe lifts his hips, helping you take off his jeans, sitting up to pull you in for another kiss. Giggling, you push him back onto the bed, your fingers sliding underneath the band of his boxers.

You bite your lip as you take out his cock, your hand wrapping around it immediately. The size of it made your mouth water, licking your lips in anticipation as you stroked it slowly causing Rafe to groan. With an approving hum, you lick the tip, meeting Rafe's hungry gaze.

Smirking, you run your tongue along the length of it, pulling back when Rafe bucks his hips up, glaring at you for teasing him. Chuckling, you decide to end the shortlived torture, taking his cock into your mouth, your warm, wet lips wrapping around his cock.

He groans, fingers pulling at your hair, guiding your movements, and urging you to take more of him. The sight of your soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock was something he'd never forget. "That's it, baby. Suck my dick like a good slut."

You felt your pussy clench at his words, growing wetter as you suck him off, eagerly bobbing your head up and down his dick. Pre-cum drips onto your tongue and you savor the taste, moaning around his cock, Rafe grunting at the feel of the vibrations.

Not wanting him to cum down your throat, you stop, slapping his cock on your tongue, smiling innocently when he narrows his eyes at you. He looked so hot staring down at you, chest heaving as he panted lightly, his knuckles white as he tried to restrain himself. His cock bobbed up as if begging for attention.

Shifting, you move up his body until your pussy is inches from Rafe's cock. You tap your clit with his cock, whimpering quietly, your clit still sensitive. Rafe's hands drift to your hips and you smack them away, giving him a smile as you rub your cunt against his dick, wanting to tease him just a little bit more.

He grits out your name, hands by his sides as he clenches them into a fist. "Stop teasing.”

"Or what?" you arch a brow, smirking as you let the head of his cock slip into your wet cunt. Temporarily speechless, Rafe lets out a guttural groan as you sink down unhurriedly, watching as your pussy wraps around his cock until he bottoms out. The size of his cock stretches you out, your walls fluttering around him as you rock slowly. "Holy shit."

"Jesus Christ." Rafe growls, his hands cupping your tits as you begin to bounce on his dick. He squeezes them, watching as your pussy swallows his cock like a vice. "So tight. Made just for me."

You moan at his words, leaning back and placing your hands on his thigh, giving him a view men would kill for. You ride his cock, throwing your head back at the feel of his cock stretching you out. Rafe reaches down, slapping your ass as you ride him, and you mewl at the gentle pain. "Rafe."

Rafe's thumb touches your clit, rubbing it as he watches you ride his cock, his lips parted slightly like he is seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. His eyes dart between his cock sliding in and out of your cunt and your face contorts with pleasure, moaning every time you slide down his cock.

"Fucking gorgeous." Rafe whispers, thrusting up into you, his pupils dilated when you whimper loudly. He sits up, his hands gripping your waist, moving his face in front of your bouncing tits, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "So much better than I imagined, baby."

You place your hands on his shoulders, pussy clenching around his cock. You moan into his ear, kissing his neck as he thrusts up into you, your legs trembling as you draw closer to cumming. "Rafe, I'm gonna cum."

The words cause him to double his efforts, gripping your waist so tight it would leave bruises, his cock filling you up as he fucks you fast. His lips drag across your neck, leaving a mark as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a fucking slut."

You cry out as you come, your cunt tightening around his cock. You bite Rafe's shoulder, muffling your ungodly loud moan. "Fuck, fuck!”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, spilling his seed into your awaiting pussy. Rafe slows to a stop, groaning against your lips, his cock nuzzled deep inside you. Rolling you on your back, he doesn't separate from you, keeping his dick warm as he kisses you languidly. Taking a breath, he breaks the kiss, staring down at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Tired and content, you return his smile, pussy throbbing around his softening cock. You nod, eyes heavy. "Yeah, you?"

Rafe chuckles quietly. "Yeah, me too."

As your eyes drift close, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your forehead.

[ckret2]

It's fic time. The Axolotl tries to persuade Bill to face what happened to his dimension while Bill tries to avoid that literally any way possible.

This is part 8 of a 9 part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and gradually learning he's literally the worst person ever. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven.

(WARNING in this one for nonspecific but pretty obvious suicidal ideation)

####

The triangle whirled around as a milky white void closed in around him. "Whoa whoa hey! What is this? How'd I get here?"

"Welcome to my office. You're in a time and space outside time and space," the Axolotl said. "Take a seat. I have a very comfortable bean bag chair."

The triangle did not take a seat. He pointed at the Axolotl like an angry arrow. "What did you do! If you don't put me back now—"

"Don't worry. When we leave this space, you will be where and when you were. Think of this like a dream."

Furiously, the triangle burst into a ball of bright blue flame. It reeked of burning hydrogen—the stench of the fabric of reality itself burning away to nothing. But he, himself, didn't burn. What was fueling his flames? "Yeah?! Well, dreams are my business!" A wave of blue flames surged toward the Axolotl.

And dissipated without touching him. The Axolotl's eyes glowed white. "THIS IS MY DREAM, TRIANGLE—NOT YOURS!"

The triangle shrank down. He squeaked, "Got it." He quietly perched one edge on the Axolotl's bean bag chair. He didn't look at the Axolotl. He was staring up around them at the Axolotl's tank.

The Axolotl's eyes dimmed again to black voids. He settled back, trying to look unthreatening now that the triangle wasn't fighting him. "Do you see something?"

The triangle laughed uneasily. "Not aside from a whole lot of white."

"You keep looking up," the Axolotl said.

"Up?" the triangle said, confused; then apparently figured out what the Axolotl meant and snapped his gaze down to meet his again. "I never—haven't been able to see the stars before," he said, trying not to sound self-conscious even as he slowly tinted red again. "I've never seen anything that could block them. Except you."

Except him. The guy who passed the wall every day on his way to work; the eclipse that blocked out the sun once a year. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." The walls of the tank seemingly dissolved, letting the triangle see the scene beyond: the glittery cotton candy celestial clouds of his home.

"Hey, I wasn't complaining! You're the one who asked." But the triangle had already visibly relaxed. He still wasn't looking at the Axolotl; but now, he was staring around at the unfamiliar new constellations with wonder.

It was the most unguarded the Axolotl had ever seen him. They didn't have much spare time; but the Axolotl couldn't bring himself to interrupt this brief peace.

After a moment, the triangle gestured toward the sky and said, "So, you—call that direction 'up.'"

"Yes?" the Axolotl said. "Is that strange?"

"No! Nooo no no. Just seems like it might be confusing, trying to tell apart north-up from star-up."

How odd. "We don't usually call north 'up'."

"Oh," the triangle said, voice small and sheepish.

"Some planetbound mortals do. But usually only when they're—" Oh. "... looking at maps." The world printed on a paper 2D plane. Like the plane the triangle had come from.

For all his power, his charisma, his bravado—the triangle was still just a lost little refugee from a flat little world. He held a whole universe in his hand, and he didn't even know up from down. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him.

"Listen to me," the Axolotl said. "You're in a lot of trouble. I'm sure you know that."

The triangle scoffed. "Tell me something new."

"How much of our discussion did you hear?"

"Just something about rebuilding the higher dimensions' foundations. Which is exactly what I told you to do! You mind your business, I'll mind mine!"

He suspected the triangle had heard more than that. "It's not that simple. They can't rebuild the foundation until the fires are out. So, as long as your actions keep setting new ones..."

"A-ha. So that's why you're here," the triangle said. "They sent you to intimidate me into letting 'em condemn my dimension."

"No." It was true enough that they had sent the Axolotl to try to talk the triangle down. And yes, he would if he could—he certainly didn't want to see all of reality destroyed—but he wasn't primarily here to help the other gods. "I'm here to help you."

The Axolotl had watched how this triangle puppeted corpses and terrified the barely-living into dancing along to his tune. He had seen the dying and dead melted together into oversized composite corpses at the triangle's party; and he'd seen how the triangle's unhappy victims tumbled down into his hell. He'd seen how blue flames flared around the triangle in his anger, and how his lines of fire warped, melted, and consumed whole universes, and how he burned mortals down to the soul with his mere gaze. He'd felt how all of Dimension Zero moved when the triangle moved.

This triangle, this poor child, was a monster.

The Axolotl wore many faces. He'd been a psychopomp, a god of death. He'd changed roles so he could help the dead he escorted reach better futures—now he was a god of rebirth, a god of second chances, a god of justice.

And in his capacity as a god of justice, he'd proudly defended the villains that no one else would defend. He did not believe in punishment. It was too late to save the villains' victims, and no amount of punishment would ever change that; but it was not too late to save the villains.

He was god of death, god of rebirth, god of second chances, god of justice—and also a god of monsters. And he'd decided this monster was under his protection.

Dubiously, the triangle said, "So they sent you as my legal counsel."

Oh, for— "No. I'm just trying to give you advice."

"Even better—pro bono legal counsel!" 

"You're not my client," the Axolotl said. "But I'll advise you as a friend. I can tell you your options as I see them. We can discuss them if you'd like. You may ask me one question, and no more."

"What? Why—" The triangle caught himself and struggled to rephrase. "That's a—stupid rule—that I want an explanation for!"

"Because I'm the Axolotl."

"What does that have t— I don't know what that has to do with anything!"

"I'm the only one who gets to ax a lotl questions."

The triangle stared at him. He burst out laughing. "I think I hate you!"

The Axolotl gave him a wide, gummy grin.

"St—stop that! It makes you even more ugly, ugh. I thought you were here to give me advice, not bad jokes." The triangle made a show of leaning back as though getting comfortable, although it was clear he was uneasy touching the bean bag chair. "So advise me, pink stuff."

"I preferred 'frills.'" Gently, the Axolotl said, "I think it's in your best interests to give yourself up to the divine authorities."

The triangle laughed in disbelief. "You're kidding. Hey, I heard your pals talking about how they can't fight me without knocking the multiverse down—"

"And once they've put up a fireproof foundation you can't burn your way through, there will no longer be any risk to the multiverse if they come after you."

"Sounds to me like a good reason to make sure they don't get that foundation in place!"

"For you to do enough damage to ensure they can't construct a foundation, you'd probably knock the multiverse down yourself," the Axolotl said. "And if that's the case, they'll have nothing to lose by trying to stop you anyway, and everything to lose by not trying."

The belligerence leeched out of the triangle's face by the word. "Oh. Yeah. I guess that's... yeah," he said.  "Okay." His expression was faraway for a moment, as he tried to wrap his mind around the magnitude of the situation. "Okay. That's okay, it's fine, it's fine." Could he feel the walls closing in on him? Did he see the stars being blocked out? "I've... got a way out of this."

"What?"

He didn't meet the Axolotl's gaze. He pulled off his hat to worry at it in his hands. "I have a way."

Bluffing. Or wishful thinking. "No. This is trouble you can't get out of. There's no greater crime against reality than the destruction of an entire dimension," the Axolotl said. "Right now, the gods think you're an active, divine threat to all of existence. That's what this is about. They're not after you because you broke a couple of rules—they're afraid of you." (The triangle lit up at that. Not quite the reaction the Axolotl had been going for, but at least he had his attention.) "And that means they won't stop until they're sure you're no longer a threat. As long as they're pursuing you, your best case scenario is getting buried alive beneath the multiverse's foundation where they can forget about you until your dream realm unravels."

"So what g—I don't see what good giving myself up would do! My best move is putting off the inevitable as long as possible! Just let 'em try to bury me!"

"But it's not inevitable," the Axolotl said. "They fear you as a divine threat. If you prove you're neither divine nor a threat—"

"No."

"Mortals can't be charged the same way as gods can. If we convince the court that you didn't have your current powers at the time of the inferno—"

"I don't know why you're so convinced I didn't have powers at the time!"

"I'm not. That doesn't mean I can't convince a judge," the Axolotl said, which surprised the triangle enough that he actually shut up for a moment. "If you're charged as a god, you face eternal imprisonment or oblivion. If you're charged as a mortal, you'll be sentenced to a regular afterlife. If you give up your power—I'm not sure where yours come from, but there are ways it can be done—" (the triangle was already raising a finger to protest) "—and it can be temporary! But if you don't have divine power when you're taken in, it will be that much easier to convince the judge that you didn't have any when your wall burned. On top of that, if you surrender yourself willingly and admit that destroying Dimension 2 Delta was an accident, that alone can knock off half your charges."

"Next you'll ask me to give up my eye! No!" He was clenching his fist around his hat so tightly that it shook; but that was the only sign of anxiety he betrayed. His gaze was as intense as the stare of a sun. "I told you: me, my power, and my people are a package deal. We stay together. We're staying right here. I don't care how much it inconveniences you."

"It's not about how much it inconveniences us," the Axolotl said. "I'm here for you—you and your people."

"They don't need you or any of your stupid 'gods.' I can take care of them!"

"Then take care of them," the Axolotl said. "You understand that, no matter how this ends, your dream realm will be destroyed and you'll have to leave or perish—don't you?"

"No." That stubborn little glitter fleck. "I can patch up this dump and repair the wall by myself. Once the wall's back, you don't have to worry about your stupid multiverse destabilizing, right?! I'll stabilize my realm before you get your stupid impenetrable foundation in place! Maybe I'll put a roof on top of it that you can't get through!"

"You haven't done it yet! What do you think you can do that you haven't already done?"

"You don't need to know," the triangle snarled.

He had to be mad, bluffing, or in denial. But he didn't look it—eye narrowed in determination, flames smoldering around his edges, fist clenched around his hat—

And then it clicked.

He hadn't said he would replace his wall. He said he'd repair it. 

The Time Giant had said there was no way the little speck of matter that the triangle kept in his hat could be all the matter from his universe; no mortal could handle it without its gravity crushing them, nor would they have the energy to move it.

But she'd also said that gravity was turned off in Dimension Zero. And the triangle had proven he did have the power to move an entire universe—so why should a universe the size of a grain of sand be any more difficult?

And anyway—what did restrictions like that mean in a place where dreams and reality overlap?

"The Time Giant was wrong, wasn't she," the Axolotl said. "You don't have a dark matter problem. You're carrying around the rubble of your universe. All of it. All the matter she sensed but couldn't find."

The triangle gave him a resentful look; but then sighed in defeat. He loosened his fist, reached into his hat, and plucked up the speck of what remained of his universe. The black pinprick of white light. "You're not as dumb as you look," he said wryly. "Yep. The whole thing's right here—all but a city or two. I figured out how to catch it pretty fast."

Catch it? "What... happened to your dimension?"

A faint uneasiness itched at the back of his mind; a sound, right at the edge of his hearing, that he couldn't quite identify but knew shouldn't be here.

"It doesn't matter," the triangle said. "It's about to un-happen."

"You're thinking about setting off a big bang, aren't you?"

The triangle said nothing. He just rolled his universe between his thumb and forefinger contemplatively. 

"You are," the Axolotl said. "You want to replace your universe."

Coolly, the triangle said, "You're sounding kinda scared, frills."

"I am," the Axolotl admitted. "Of all your options, that's the most dangerous thing you could possibly do."

"Hey, the dangerous choices have turned out pretty well for me so far!"

The Axolotl really didn't think they had. "You know you can't get your old universe back, don't you? It will only make a new universe."

The triangle didn't say anything—but he went still, holding the tiny glowing pearl between his fingers rather than rolling it back and forth.

"It will have similar physical properties—it will be 2D, gravity and light will probably work the same way, all the laws of physics will be what you expect... but it will be a new universe. New stars and worlds will form. New species will evolve. Your people will never return."

The triangle squeezed the pearl in his hand. "You don't know that," he said harshly. "Everything that ever existed is right in here." He shook his fist at the Axolotl. He could see the light shining out between the triangle's fingers. "It has to have some sort of memory! There's gotta be traces of it left in there!"

"It can't remember. It doesn't have a soul to remember with."

"I'm a soul!" The triangle pointed at himself with a hundred arms. "Me! I remember! The whole dimension remembers!"

There was the hiss. The ever-present hiss that the Axolotl heard any time he was inside Dimension Zero, the static in the speakers, the last gasp of a dying big bang, the whisper murmur scream battering against the walls. Fear shivered up his spine. How was it audible from within his tank?

He tried to push down his fear. "You're not the whole dimension."

The triangle laughed. It was a chilling sound.

"Just—consider how much more you'd lose if it doesn't work the way you want it to. What will you do if you can't fix your dimension?"

"I can," he said. "If I can't fix it, no one can."

Why did he think he was more capable than gods who'd maintained the multiverse for trillions of years? "What if you're wrong?"

"I will fix it," the triangle said stubbornly.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU'LL DO IF YOU CAN'T FIX IT!"

The triangle literally shrank back, growing smaller as he sank into the Axolotl's beanbag. "Keep doing what I'm doing now! Partying!" He let out a half hysterical giggle. "I'll party til I die!"

"Set off a big bang in an unstable pseudo-dimension, and you will die! The kind of death no one comes back from!"

"Great!"

They both froze. Neither one of them had expected him to say that.

"Kidding," the triangle croaked. "I just—I just—I'm trying to get under your skin, pinky, that's all. Is it working? Don't answer that, that wasn't my question, that was—rhetorical. I'm assuming that stuff you've got is skin, anyway." The prattle was hollow and meaningless. "The point is, I'm the dream realm's eternal party host, and I'm not stopping this party for anything, no matter what you say, and—and that's it. That's all there is to it!"

He must have witnessed so many horrors, in so little time—his universe incinerating, his people dying, Dimension Zero constantly collapsing even as he attempted to prop it up, the dimensions above him twisting and warping as their people fell into his nightmarish realm...

The Axolotl slowly flew closer to the triangle.

"Oh, come on— don't," the triangle whined. "Whatever little speech you're about to make, don't, I don't wanna hear it—"

Gently, the Axolotl said, "I know you've lost your home."

The word "home" struck a note with the triangle. He didn't flinch, his expression didn't change; but he went still. He looked down at the compacted ruin of what used to be his whole universe.

"But it's not too late for you to find a new home," the Axolotl said. "You can still move on and rebuild. There's a future for you. If you come out, I'll help you navigate the afterlife system. If you're stuck in this dimension, we'll find a way to free you."

The triangle's face darkened.

"You can be reincarnated, or resurrected, or—just set free to be an energy being if you want. You can settle down in a neighboring dimension, join a new people—"

"No. I'm not about to be a couch surfer in someone else's universe." He glowered up at the Axolotl. "Those people will join me. Everyone can either join me, or—or get out of my way! I finally made my kingdom, I'm not giving up my crown now!"

"If you keep your crown, you'll kill your kingdom! You know that if you stay here you'll destroy everything, I know you know it!"

"It's the best option I have! Better than your plan, anyway! Surrender to the cops and let my world fall apart?" He laughed harshly. "No way, Buster! I told my people I'd liberate them from our flat, oppressive little world and take them to a party paradise, and that's exactly what I'm gonna make for them!" He held out his little pearl of a universe again, the paradise-to-be.

Before, he'd said that the dream realm was his paradise. He'd also said that he'd remake his destroyed universe exactly as it had been. How could the "oppressive" world they'd left be their paradise? Nevermind the fact that none of "his people" were from his world. Which of the stories he'd invented was the truth? Which did the triangle think was the truth? Did he even know?

"If all of this is for your people—would you risk them? If trying to build a paradise kills the very people you made it for—"

"They'd never know."

The Axolotl's blood ran cold. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "What?"

"I can keep the party going until the end. They'd never find out what's coming. If the dream realm collapses, it'll be too fast for them to tell what's happening," the triangle said. "In their final moments, they'll still remember me as a hero."

The Axolotl hadn't realized until that moment just how cold the triangle's expression was.

His mind flashed to seeing VENDOR earlier that day, hustling the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force to clean up this mess faster because THEY didn't want the journalists to claim THEY had mishandled the situation during an election season.

Was that all the triangle was?

Another politician more concerned with how his constituents saw him than with what he could do for them?

"But," the Axolotl said weakly, "I've watched how you rescue the mortals from the fires. I've seen how you're struggling to keep this dimension from collapsing on them. I've seen how much you're suffering. You're running yourself ragged to protect them. You want so badly for them to be safe."

The triangle seemed to brighten at the Axolotl's words, as though he was soaking in the high praise. "Well, sure! And they love me for it! Would any god do less for his worshipers? Would you?" His voice took on a bitter tone. "But I don't know of any god who'd stick his corner out for a nonbeliever—and that's what they'll be if I don't deliver on the paradise I promised. I take my party hosting seriously. I'll give them their paradise if it kills me. Or them. Or everyone, if that's what it takes."

He was no hero. He never had been. He didn't care about the countless souls he'd collected, only their worship.

He didn't want his people to be safe; he just wanted to be his people's savior.

If I can't fix it, no one can. The triangle hadn't meant no one else was able to. He'd meant no one else was allowed to. He'd rather die than let someone else fix his mistakes.

And he would. This was a mass suicide.

No. Worse than that—it was a mass murder-suicide.

"You already lost your world once," the Axolotl said desperately, "don't you remember what that was like?"

The triangle flinched back like the Axolotl had slapped him. The tank rumbled around them; the hissing whispers grew louder. "That's... none of your business! Stop talking about my world, you don't know the first thing about it—"

"I know how much you must miss it. I know how deeply losing your people must hurt." It must have hurt, why would he have clung to what was left of his world if it didn't, why would he be so determined to rebuild it exactly as it had been?

"My—my people are fine." His voice was choked. He squeezed his eye shut. "They're... all out at the party. Waiting for me. Don't talk about—"

"The people at the party are shapes you kidnapped from other dimensions." He was so stubbornly loyal to his chosen delusions. "Your people are dead. You know they are!"

"No!"

His scream was answered by howls outside the Axolotl's tank. Through the static, the Axolotl could pick up a sound repeated over and over. A word. Murderer, murderer, murderer.

"No! They aren't dead! I saved them!" He curled in on himself, hands pressed to his sides like it could block out the sounds. "I liberated them from their shallow lives! I gave them their freedom—"

"Then give them their freedom now!"

The triangle's breath hitched.

"If you want to die, you can die. There are ways to break a soul. I can help. But do it alone," the Axolotl pled. "I know you care about these people!" He had to believe it, he had to believe it, he had to. In spite of the evidence to the contrary, he had to. "If you won't let us help you, at least let us help them go home. Please. You need to let them go."

He clenched his tiny hands into fists; he looked so pained the Axolotl thought he might shatter.

In another timeline, a better timeline, he whispered, "How?" The word he should have said echoed around them, blending into the static whispers. It would be so easy to say.

But in this timeline, he asked, "You're some kind of lawyer or something, right?"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "By... way of metaphor," he said. "We have trials and courts, but not the way mortals understand—"

"There are no laws in my kingdom," the king growled. "Get out of here. Now."

"But—"

"I said OUT!"

A force crashed into the time and space between time and space, shattering the Axolotl's tank, the glittery cotton candy nebulas' pinks and blues disrupted by a twisted geyser of colors—raw frothing stuff somewhere between matter and energy—and it flung the Axolotl away from the triangle like a wave flinging a fish from the ocean. The anxious background static whispers grew to a buzzing roar, 1000 decibel white noise. He spun dizzily through the cosmic miasma.

The first time he'd come in here—the first time the triangle had chased him out—he'd felt instinctively that he'd been in danger. He'd felt flames licking at his heels.

He knew now that that had been a mere warning.

"I might be in your dream, but your dream is in MY dream realm!" The triangle seemed to get larger without his size changing. Maybe it was the universe around him that was contracting. "And you've overstayed your welcome, Axolotl!"

The Axolotl had tumbled into the nightmarish eternal dance party. Shrieking overlapping music drowned out the buzzing whispers. Thousands of eyes stared at him in horror and thousands of voices gasped in disgust; and he realized that as many times as he'd seen them, he had never been in their two-dimensional field of view.

For all the thousands that stared at him, millions of corpses never stopped dancing.

One last time, the Axolotl turned to the triangle and pled, "Just give the hostages the option to leave if they want!"

"My people aren't hostages!"

"Then give them a choice!" He could feel dead hands grabbing at his skin and fins. He wasn't sure if they were trying to restrain him for their Magister Mentium, or cling to him for escape. He wasn't even sure whether they were the dead who still had their own souls, or the triangle's corpse puppets. "Anyone who wants to stay with you can!"

"Shut up!" The triangle boomed louder and louder and he grew larger and larger, until his voice and his eye seemed to fill the universe. He was shuddering with rage (with regret?)—it threatened to shake him apart, and the universe with him. "All of this is your fault! I'm—sick because of you!" In another reality he said insane; but the realities where he didn't closed up around the word and crushed it into silence. "You made me like this! You infected me!"

"With what?" He'd only spoken to the triangle once before today. He hadn't even entered his dimension.

"This—idea!" He didn't say what idea, not in this reality; but the words echoed in from another reality where he did. He screamed to drown the echoes out. "I was fine until I met you and you ruined everything!" Regret spilled out of his eye so thick it was almost palpable, energy like a river. It threatened to fill the interdimensional in-between space and drown them all. The Axolotl could taste the idea that had poisoned the triangle: the idea that everyone mattered. That everyone was worthy of a god's attention. And now, everyone was gone.

Bewildered, the Axolotl said, "You're not 'sick' to think that. It's the sanest idea you could have—"

"Get out!" The shriek echoed through infinity. "Get out! The dream realm is my domain and I am its king! I told you last time, I won't let you threaten my people!"

"I would never—"

"GET OUT!" Blue flames exploded out of the triangle; some of his nearest prisoners were incinerated as easily as tissue paper.

The Axolotl tried to shield himself; the flames consumed one of his forelegs and ate away at his dorsal fin.

He tore himself free of the desperate grasping shapes and swam from the triangle as fast as he could.

The triangle chased him; and, to the Axolotl's despair, as the center of Dimension Zero followed the triangle, the edge of reality pulled ever further away.

His flames licked at the Axolotl's tail, consuming the fin; he swam slower and slower.

As the triangle pursued the Axolotl, his attacks further destabilized the volatile dimension; wormholes formed where the fabric of reality folded and bunched in on itself and was pierced through. Light shot through the holes like a million disembodied sunbeams. 

He saw one that led straight to the edge of Dimension Zero. He wriggled through.

"Where did you—?! HEY!" The dimension whirled dizzyingly as the triangle refocused on his evasive prey. "You think you can get away from me in my own realm?" 

"Do you want me to get out or not?!"

"I want you DEAD!"

The Axolotl shouldn't have asked.

With a roar, the triangle clawed at him. A thick, sucking wave of gravity as dense as a black hole tore through the unstable miasma toward him. The triangle laughed sadistically.

With one last surge of energy, he paddled his tail hard enough to outpace the triangle and burst free of the dimension.

The ragged edges of Dimension Zero ripped further under the triangle's attack, but it dissipated in the third dimension.

The Axolotl sighed in relief—then flinched when the triangle crashed into the invisible barrier holding the cosmic foam in the space-between-space where Dimension Zero should have been. Like a piece of glitter sticking to a bubble, if glitter sticking to a bubble were the most violent force in the universe. "Get back here! I'll skin your freakish hide and make a tent outta it—!" He strained toward the Axolotl, threatening to drag the bubble along with him, like a particularly determined sled dog trying to pull a trailer home.

The Axolotl hastily backed out of range as nauseating plumes of color stretched outside their bounds again. Blue fire danced over the thin membrane between dimensions like a burning oil spill on an ocean. The plumes twisted into shapes almost like arms, hundreds of them, reaching toward him—

And froze. The triangle was staring past the Axolotl.

The Axolotl turned to look.

It was the most sublimely awful sight he'd ever seen. An impenetrable wall made up of gods, angels, sentient forces of nature—there were things here so transcendentally powerful that the Axolotl couldn't even see them; he only knew they were present by the perimeters of the space he couldn't bring his eyes to gaze upon and the terrifying awe he felt when he tried.

They were all armed.

All their weapons were pointed at the triangle.

Apparently, the ATTF had called in reinforcements.

A god that looked like a hologram projection, the light of its projector shining down on it from a higher dimension like a halo, thundered, "ADVANCE ANY FURTHER INTO REALITY, AND WE WILL BE FORCED TO SUBDUE YOU."

"You can't afford to!" the triangle crowed. "You'll knock your own universes down!"

"NOT ANYMORE."

The triangle's eye widened. The thousand arms of raw reality seized the jagged edges of the dimensions bordering the hole left when Dimension 2 Delta burned down, trying to crush them—and nothing happened. He slammed Dimension Zero against the bordering dimension, trying to crack open a larger opening, and then trying to simply shove the bordering dimensions aside—and nothing happened. Dimension Zero burned; but the surrounding first and second dimensions remained still. There was no creak and crack of snapping lines and shattering planes as the triangle tried to squeeze his bloated universe free. There was no glowing line of fire on the distant horizon.

The neighboring dimensions burned and blackened under the thousand hands; but they didn't dissolve to ash. The cinders got caught between the layers together as the dimensions splintered into layers, then multiplied—splintered and multiplied—splintered and multiplied—thicker and denser and harder—

Parallel universes. Every time the triangle touched them, they split into more timelines, reinforcing themselves. The Time Giant already reformatted the universes most closely adjacent to Dimension Zero. Not every universe—but just enough to form a cage.

The triangle gave up with a grunt of pain. He laughed in disbelief—and then anger. "You were the distraction?"

"No! I was supposed to talk you into cooperating with building the fireproof foundation! We agreed to only call in reinforcements if I couldn't persuade you!" He looked around for the Time Giant, but couldn't find her—nor any of the other gods he'd spoken to while dealing with this mess. Everyone, apparently, had been cleared out of the vicinity to make way for the god militia.

The only civilian left on the 3D side of the missing wall was the Axolotl—once again, stuck in the middle of a situation he had no business being involved in.

The triangle's eye widened further, further, white hot with fury. "Nothing's ever your fault, is it, frills?! Every time you ruin my life, it's all a big misunderstanding! You just keep talking your way out of trouble!" His eye opened wider and wider still. His eyelid unhinged. His mandibles split open and at the back of his eye socket was an infinitely dark esophagus. Sprouting in a ring around the triangle's eye like the petals of a grisly flower, piercing the membrane between the zeroth dimension and the third, were millions and millions of—

—teeth. Teeth longer than the spaces between stars and sharp enough to split an atom.

The Axolotl only barely managed to paddle back out of their range before they snapped at where he had been. A couple of the higher gods caught him, holding his sides protectively. His skin sizzled with holy electricity.

The god militia drew back from the gnashing fangs, then readied their own weapons: spears, guns, swords, a wider array of divine and holy weaponry than the Axolotl had ever seen. The projection leading the militia called, "DON'T LET HIM MAKE IT PAST THE FIREPROOF BARRIER."

"Afraid I'll start breaking things again?" The fangs snapped tauntingly. "Hey—how fast do you think I can find the load-bearing dimensions?"

The Axolotl shook off the gods and swam back toward Dimension Zero. "Stop!"

"HOLD FIRE!" The projected god commanded, "OUT OF THE WAY, AXOLOTL. THE MULTIVERSE'S SAFETY IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR LIFE."

He knew it was. The leader of the militia was so powerful that resisting a direct order made the Axolotl dizzy—but he did resist. He shouted at the triangle, "You can't fight off every god in the multiverse! This is suicide!" He realized too late that that probably wasn't as discouraging as he'd intended it to be.

"So what?! There's no way for me to win! Get executed for god crimes or get erased when the dimension collapses—"

"Those aren't your only choices!" The Axolotl could see the fangs slowly, slowly curling up in his peripheral vision, and pretended he didn't. "It's not too late for you to stand down—!"

"I can't!" A wave of fire blazed up the teeth of the Dream Realm. He held up a fist, and it was far too small for any of the gods, so mighty and large, to see what he held; but the Axolotl knew. "If I don't get a happy ending, why shouldn't I burn the rest of you down with me?! At least I'll accomplish one thing before I go!" His hand began glowing as energy began gathering around the tiny seed of a big bang.

"Do you want your worshipers to remember you as a monster in their last moments?!"

"Better a monster than a LOSER!" His laugh was a strained subsonic roar. "Are fame and infamy really that different?! At least they'll be thinking about me at the end!"

"It would make you a terrible party host!"

The Axolotl didn't know what had possessed him to say that. Apparently the triangle didn't know what to make of it either, because he froze, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare.

But it worked. He snapped out of his rage. The light gathering around the remains of Dimension 2 Delta went dark. For a moment, he was frozen, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare; and then he laughed again, just as strained, much weaker. The borders of Dimension Zero shuddered with his laughter. "Fair enough!" The appendages stretching out into the third dimension lost definition. "Fair enough." He glowered tiredly at the god militia—but raised his hands in surrender. Both his palms were empty.

The trembling fangs dissolved as they retracted. The whole paradoxical mass sagged sluggishly back into the crawlspace underneath reality.

One by one, the god militia slowly lowered their weapons.

The Axolotl's heart was still hammering in his chest; and only then did it register that he'd nearly been eaten by an entire dimension.

Where had his power come from? How had the triangle done all this—made his whole dimension vanish without a trace, shoved an entire plane inside a point, gained complete control over it all...

He really did have complete control over the entire universe that had formed inside Dimension Zero—didn't he?

And to control an entire universe, he needed to have an entire universe's worth of energy.

Dimension 2 Delta had been an entire universe. And now—all of its energy was in Dimension Zero.

With the triangle.

As he watched the triangle wincing in pain as the Dream Realm sank back into place, as though the triangle could feel the way the edges of the neighboring dimensions dug into the frothing chaos, the Axolotl whispered, "Oh, no. What have you done?"

His power had come from his own universe. He had devoured it. He'd made it part of him.

All that energy wasn't stored inside the triangle's body—but the Axolotl had been wrong to think that the triangle was the body in the first place. The triangle was only the face: the eye, the mouth, the mind. The part of the Dream Realm that could speak.

The Dream Realm was the anglerfish—and the triangle was its pretty golden glowing lure. They were all one monster.

The triangle was slumped in defeat, but still he shot the Axolotl a tired glare. The hissing static whispers rose up around him again, spilling out of the Dream Realm. (The whispers, too, were a part of the triangle.) "Who are you to judge," he muttered. "You weren't there."

No, he wasn't. He'd gotten here too late.

Behind the Axolotl, the god projection said curtly, "APPREHEND THE TRIANGLE WHILE HE'S COMPLIANT."

The Axolotl whirled around, eyes glowing with rage. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" The gods who had started moving toward Dimension Zero froze again.

"HE'S A THREAT TO THE MULTIVERSE!"

"He stood down!" 

"HE'S PROVEN WILLING TO DESTROY REALITY. HE COULD EASILY CHOOSE TO AGAIN." The higher dimensional projector turned to project straight at the Axolotl, dazzling him even through his shut eyes, shining straight into his brain. "STAND. ASIDE."

"No." The Axolotl tensed his muscles against the compulsion to obey. "He was a threat to the multiverse. Once the last walls are closed over the crawlspace, he won't be anymore. If he doesn't make a move between now and then, you have no grounds to pursue him." It was a little easier the second time to resist the higher god's command. "So if you do follow him out of the third dimension to capture him, you're trespassing in a new god's sovereign territory to make an illegal arrest outside your jurisdiction!"

"HE'S MASSACRED TEN DIMENSIONS AND TRIED TO DESTROY MORE. THERE ISN'T A COURT IN REALITY THAT WOULD CONSIDER PURSUING HIM UNJUSTIFIED."

"I know a few."

"YOU'RE DEFENDING A DIVINE MENACE. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

He quietly kissed his career prospects goodbye as he watched himself do the stupidest thing he'd ever done. "I'm the Axolotl," said the Axolotl, "and I'm his lawyer!"

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 8 of a 9 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting the last chapter next week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl deal with having gotten his heart broken by this sweet little triangle who actually isn't sweet.

It's ALSO chapter 68 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: this was The Big One, gang. And now I expect for the next several months I'm gonna get comments from y'all rereading earlier chapters going HOLD ON WAS THIS LINE FORESHADOWING THAT LITERALLY THE ENTIRE NIGHTMARE REALM IS PART OF BILL? And the answer is: yes. yes it was. Looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!! 💕

also this was THE absolute hardest chapter to write, goddamn.)

[pumpkin-cake]

begging for ANYTHING fix it related for the most recent season !!!

five x reader and they are married?? it would be nice if the reader had a more relaxed job in comparison to five in the CIA (the reader used to also work for the commission but wanted a calm life)

like maybe working in a daycare or flower shop?

i’m honestly begging for anything sweet please if you’ve got the time !

THIS HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. YES, I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU <3 I ALSO HATE THE WAY THEY CHARACTERIZED FIVE IN THE NEW SEASON. This will be very domestic :3 And it's been a while since I've written Five, I hope he's not too out of character, let me know if you have any pointers :3

The door to your apartment creaks open and heavy footsteps enter, the jangling sounds of house keys hitting the ceramic bowl reaching your ears with a sigh following.

"Good evening, Jerome." You coo.

"I did not pick that name, quit calling me it." Five huffs as he shrugs off his suit jacket, entering the living room. He looked tired, but he was okay with that. He didn't want to settle for some repetitive job he'd be bored as hell at. Even if they gave him stupid aliases like Jerome.

"You could have at least asked. That's embarrassing, telling people your name is Jerome. What about...Ethan? Or even something that's close to Five. Like, Finn, or something." You answered with a chuckle, while Five crumpled on the couch next to you.

"There isn't any point. It's not like you need to go around calling me that name." He said, taking off his tie and laying it across the arm of the sofa. "Anyway, how was work?" He asked, taking off his brown Oxfords and laying them nearby but out of the main walkway. He reached over to the stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at the first page. "Jesus, this is the sloppiest handwriting I've ever seen."

"Ah yes, because children who still have shitty motor skills are going to be writing in perfect print. That's why they only have to write their names, not write full-fledged essays." You said sarcastically, plucking the piece of paper from his hands. You looked over the assignment your kindergarteners were given. The instructions were to count the different types of bugs on the paper. There were no more than 9 of each bug. 4 butterflies, 7 caterpillars, 1 beetle, 8 spiders.

"I was never that dumb." Five said a little snarkily, pointing to the answer spot that said there were only 5 caterpillars.

"Don't be such a prick." You huffed, getting out a blue pen. You didn't like to use red, too harsh. You circled each answer wrong, not making any corrections.

"How are you even meant to teach them this? It's basic counting." Five asked, sort of actually curious.

"We'll just go over it in class tomorrow. Everyone will count together."

"Then what's the point of the homework?"

You groaned. "We are not having this conversation anymore, old man." You pulled out a pack of stickers, putting one on each sheet of paper.

"You're just as old." He countered with a smirk, leaving you to roll your eyes and continue 'grading' the papers. He did shut up and drop the subject, letting his hand stray to your hand that wasn't busy grading papers. He wasn't ever one for physical affection in the past, but ever since getting to this place? He was more lenient. He was never hanging off of you, but his touches were gentler. Each contact of skin was a small way of saying 'I love you', because it was hard to say it out loud after years of isolation.

The biggest way of him saying he loved you was twisting the ring that nicely fit on your finger like he was doing right now. Like he was making sure you were aware of its presence and meaning.

You finished the papers in less than five minutes. You did not envy the fourth-grade teachers who had actual homework to grade. "Your dinner is in the fridge." You told him, taking his other hand and playing with the black band that adorned his ring finger.

"Not hungry." He said shortly, like he was offended you'd ever assume he wanted to do something aside from this. He wouldn't ever say that out loud, of course.

"It's sushi. Made by yours truly." You added, holding back a chuckle when he sucked in a deep breath, very torn between the options. It was weird, able to sit and think about something. He wasn't rushing home to eat and go to bed, he got to do domestic shit with you and fuck did he love it.

"..." Five stayed silent like a brooding teenager.

"I'll come with you." You reasoned, and he reluctantly sat up. You smiled and got up with him, the two of you traversing to the kitchen. He opened the door to the fridge and grabbed the small Tupperware of delicious looking sushi. You were not a fan of Commission cafeteria food, and you took pride in buying the best ingredients for you and your spouse. You were already grabbing him a pair of chopsticks, sitting with him at the kitchen island.

"...thanks." He said after eating a roll. He was stubborn, but he really did appreciate you taking the time to make more for him when he got home late. It was so nice to come home to a homemade meal. It reminded him of Grace.

"Of course, honey." You smiled, sitting in silence while he ate. He savored every moment. After being in the apocalypse for forty years, he really grew to appreciate the things he didn't have. He swore he would never take this life for granted.

He never questioned why, because the whole reason was sitting right next to him.

[shiplessoceans]

Moments in House MD that made me absolutely feral as an O.G fan that watched it as it aired back in the naughties, shipping House/Wilson hardcore and not realising I was queer:

1. Wilson loudly reciting a poem to House as he enters the hospital lobby which contains the line: "His manly chest, his stubbled jaw, everything about him leaves me raw.'

2. The look on Wilson's face when a random clinic patient gives House advice about his date with Cameron.

"Do her....or you're gay."

*cue Wilson looking to the side like...wait a minute...*

3. House: "They were not Prada! you wouldn't know Prada if it stepped on your scrotum."

4. Wilson: "House I believe you're a romantic, you didn't just believe him, you believed IN him! Wanna come over tonight, watch old movies and cry?"

5. House (yelling across a crowded lobby to Wilson): "How long can you go without sex?"

6. The look on Wilson's face when he gets a masseuse for House (!) and she massages his hand, causing him to begin moaning orgasmically.

7. Stacey: "What are you hiding?"

House: "I'm gay... Oh that's not what you meant! But it does explain a lot thought. No girlfriend, always with Wilson..."

8. House watching Wilson sleep on the couch in his apartment, then quietly erasing a voicemail from a real estate agent saying Wilson's apartment application for a new place went through.

9. Wilson, explaining his infidelity during his previous marriage, to Cameron when she's feeling awful because she considered cheating on her husband while he was dying:

"Well my wife wasn't dying, she wasn't even sick. But I met someone who made me feel...funny. Good. And I... didn't wanna let that feeling go."

The lack of pronoun haunts me to this day.

10. Gay male patient harassing House and questioning why he won't treat him:

Patient: "Because you're a closet case?" (Eyeing House and Wilson who have just emerged from House's apartment)

Wilson: "Uh...we're not...together..."

House: "He is so self-loathing."

11. House nearly kills himself to attempt to prove there is no afterlife, Wilson waits over his bedside and then calls him an idiot and orders him extra pain medication. House's response is:

"I love you."

12. House: "Big romantic weekend in the Poconos could change everything."

13. Wilson refusing to participate in a board vote to oust House from the hospital and consequently losing him job for House. Wilson's furious with him over being put in that position but forgives House easily.

14. Wilson (speaking to House about dating a woman eerily similar to House): "Why not? Why not date you? It's perfect! We've known each other for years, we put up with all kinds of crap from each other and we keep coming back. We're a couple!"

House: "Are we still speaking metaphorically?"

15. (Less than a minute later when House keeps trying to convince Wilson he and Amber are a bad idea).

Wilson: "Wait a minute, every time I agree with you, you come up with a new argument. What are you trying to avoid?"

House: *Stares at Wilson with the most meaningful eye contact to ever eye contact*

Wilson: "Oh! Well if you'd looked at me with those flashing eyes before I was involved (clicks tongue)."

16. To Wilson's new girlfriend in a threatening, 'stay away from my man' voice:

House: "Give him back his sweatshirt... Pit stains don't become you."

17. House: "This isn't just about the sex! You like her personality! You like that she's conniving. You like that she can humiliate someone if it serves..."

*tense pause*

House: "Oh my god. You're sleeping with me."

*flees restaurant*

18. House: "I have really gotta get you laid. If I have to plough that furrow myself, so be it."

19. Wilson: "I have a headache."

House: "We don't have to have sex, sometimes it's nice just to cuddle and talk."

20. (To a bellboy at a hotel House is staying at, while gesturing to Wilson)

House: "After he and I have sex, I'm gonna slit his throat and disembowel him in the bathtub."

21. House going to interview all of Wilson's ex wives to figure out how best to break him and Cuddy up when they aren't even dating. The look on his face when Bonnie explains how good at sex Wilson is? Priceless.

22. House: "Probably my deep and very unconscious desire to get Wilson into my bedroom."

22. House: "If you're coming back because you're attracted to the shine of my neediness. I'd be fine with that."

23. House borrowing money off Wilson in increasing amounts to test the limits of their friendship. He later admits to Wilson that: "Maybe I don't want to push this til it breaks".

24. House being convinced the male CIA agent who approaches him in season 4 is a stripper and sitting on a bench saying:

House: "You wanna close that door?"

CIA agent: "Why?"

House: "Well I assume you're gonna drop trou at some point during the dance, I don't see why I should share."

25. Wilson: "I want a threesome"

House: "Shouldn't we try a twosome first?"

26. All of that episode where House is talking to Dr Nolan and says Wilson is not a consolation prize. Legit became convinced halfway through that this was going to be House realising he's in love with Wilson and wants to keep living with him.

27. House hiring a P.I. to stalk Wilson after they've had a falling out to see if he misses him. The P.I. clocks this immediately and treats the case like that of a scorned lover needing to know if the other party is pining and if theres anything that can make him come back.

28. Wilson proposing to House in a restaurant to throw a wrench in his plans to date their neighbour.

29. Wilson got mad that Cuddy hurt House. So he bought her dream apartment out from under her in sheer spite and moved into said apartment with House.

30. Wilson being indecisive and unable to buy furniture for himself because of a flimsy sense of self and an inability to figure out who he is and what he wants. House teases him about this and challenges him to buy one peice of furniture that says something about who Wilson is.

The peice of furniture Wilson buys?

A piano organ for House.

31. House: "You were thinking about Wilson while were were having sex? That's cool so was I."

32. Wilson: "If things go wrong, I just want you to know..."

House: "If you're gonna say that you've always been secretly gay for me? Everyone just kind of assumed it."

33. Cameron: "Where do you put the cane?"

House: (referring to Wilson) "If he buys me dinner he can find out."

34. That gay as fuck ending, fuck I'll never be over it.

[smuttyazrael]

Could we get a pregnant reader wolf pack one shot?

First Wolf Baby

Word count: 1,745

Summary: Paul and you are married and having a baby. You don't know if it's Sam's or Paul's all you know is the wolf pack is here to help you go into labour.

Warnings: Pregnancy kink, Birthing Kink, Cum kink, Anal, oral, sex, breeding kink.

You're walking around yours and Paul's place it's years ago since you and him got together and he imprinted on you. You have been helping the pack out for years. You think the baby is Sam's, but you aren't sure. There is a chance it's Pauls. But both have been sharing you, your whole pregnancy. You're 8 months pregnant and overdue. The doctor said sex will help. Paul mentioned it to Sam. Now, everyone is coming over tonight, and you're waddling around trying to make sure there is enough food. You have Paul chopping this and that and the other thing.

Sam arrives and comes up behind you placing his hands on your hips. He kisses the side of your neck where your shoulder meets. You tilt your head to the side presenting your neck to him with a moan, your eyes slipping shut. His hands grab your tits and massage them a bit. Only in t-shirt crop top that barely fits. The bottoms of your tits are out for the world to see. You're wearing a black skirt because Sam asked it of you.

"Good girl." He growls into your neck. You moan again your hands going to grab on to hold Sam's head in place. He grabs the spoon you're stirring the sauce with, so it doesn't drop into the pot when you let go of it in pleasure.

"Go sit. Paul and I will finish." he orders.

You feel your thighs get slick as you sit down. He chuckles knowing his alpha voice still effects you to this day. The pack comes in. Jared sits next to you. He pushes your legs open and his hand pushes up your skirt. He pushes his fingers into your dripping pussy. He nuzzles your tits with his face, licking your nipples through your shirt. He decides to suck on them making your nipples pebble and the top go see through. The whole pack can see your hard nipples when Jared pulls back.

Sam calls dinner and sits down beside you. He feeds you little bites of spaghetti. You unable to eat too much due to the baby. Paul sits down on your other side. Sam and Paul both pulling your thighs open to show your dripping pussy to Quil, Brady and Collin, who are sitting in front of you.

Paul slips three fingers into your pussy thrusting them in and out. You moan while Sam is feeding you. He kisses you in between bites swallowing some of your moans.

"What were you showing my last week? Emily doesn't want you kids?" Jared asks confused. He is eating while fluffing his hard cock.

"She doesn't want any children. Something about not losing her figure. I was thinking with Y/N pregnant she will want her own but no it has turned her further off." Sam tells him.

His throbbing erection pushing against his cut offs. He is ignoring it feeding both you and him. His instincts as an alpha to make sure the pup is fed.

"So, how are you going to satisfy the wolves desire to have children?" Embry asks.

"Y/N will carry my baby of course. The good little slut loves being pregnant." You cum squirting all over Paul's wrist hearing that your a good slut. Paul just chuckles sneaking a kiss in between Sam and food bites.

"You're going to let Paul raise your kids as his own?" Quil asks surprised.

"No, they will know they are my kids. I will be there to help raise them." Sam growls out at the thought of someone else claiming his pups.

"So, what are we all doing here?" Collin asks jerking Brady's cock off while Brady does the same for him.

"Leah not here?" Brady asks.

"No, she's at work." Seth replies thrusting his hips into his fist which is surrounding his cock.

"Y/N's doctor mentioned how sex is going to help her go into labour." Paul says with a smirk.

The pack shovels thier food in thier mouth faster and they go clean thier plates and at least one more dish. They also put them away to help Y/N out.

Jake walks back in with his cock already out and him rubbing it slowly. He goes to slip it into your mouth and Sam growls at him. Sam feeds you your last bite. You chew and swallow it. He rubs his tumb right at the corner of your lips cleaning off some sauce licking off the sauce off his thumb he nods to Jake.

"Now, you can go." He says.

He gets up as all the wolves are jerking either themselves or other wolves off, making a mess of the room. He knows a least one of the wolves will clean it when they are all done. He washes his plate and heads back into the room. He see's Paul in your ass while your begging for someone to fill your pussy and Jake in your mouth. You're in between them on your hands and knees, trying to keep from colapsing on to your belly. They boys both kneeling in front and behind you. Sam slips under you holding you, so the baby doesn't get hurt. He lifts you on to his cock. You moan as your pussy slides on to his cock.

"Just as tight as the first time I took you." Sam moans into your ear.

All three thrusting together. You're completely lost in the lust. Licking and swallowing around Jake to get his cum. You are desperate for it.

"Bella!!!" He yells out.

"What the fuck?!" Embry asks him pissed off.

"That's Y/N. You know that one who sucked your dick all throughout high school because you didn't want to lose your v card to anyone but Bella. Fuck, I should rail you again for that." Jared spits out pissed off. He picks Jake up from his kneeling position and drags him to the door, shoving him out.

Jared takes Jakes old spot caressing your cheek. Telling you that you're better then Bella. That Jake's an idoit. Not that you hear him really. Hearing that you're a good girl is the only thing penetrating your fog. Paul and Sam finally cum filling you up when you do squeezing them within an inch of thier lives. You screaming out. Them both groaning.

They swap out with Embry and Quil. They take a turn. Sam orders them to be careful with the baby. Embry goes into your pussy caressing your belly. All three boys cum and before long they swap with Brady, Collin and Seth.

Seth takes your pussy while, Brady and Collin take your ass and mouth. They switch positions though. Seth sits down and you strattle his lap. Brady is sitting on his knees behind you while Collin is standing over Seth feeding you his cock.

Before too long Brady reaches around pushing his finger into Collin's ass. He taps his prostate and Collin moans out.

"I'm going to cum!" He cries out after a few taps. After the fifth or sixth he explodes into your mouth. You cum squeezing the other two boy cum out of thier cocks as you swallow down Collin's

They lift you up off of them. Sam helps out leading you to his lap on the couch massaging your legs all of a sudden you feel a gush. Sam looks surprised that you soaked him. He studis you face and rubs your belly. He feels the tightness and orders Paul to grab your go bag.

"She's in labour we need to go to Sue's clinic." Sam orders. He carries you to the car and Paul hands him a pair of sweats to put on. paul helps him into it pulling them up. He jerks his cock once while pulling it up. "You boys better have this place clean by the time we get back." Sam tosses the order over his shoulder on his way to his truck.

Sam and Paul both tugging on thier erections in the truck on thier way to the clinic. They arrive as you feel the tightness across you belly but not the pain.

You get sent to a room right away the boys pulling thier cocks over the bands of thier sweats so they are sticking out in front of them. Jerking them and rubbing them against every surface they can leaving a slimy trial of pre fuck behind.

Sue comes in. "Time already?" Sue asks ignoring Sam who is humping the side of the bed trying to be somewhat subtle and Paul who is blatently jerking off.

"Yeah, but why am I not in pain?" You ask her.

"Were you having sex with a wolf when you went into labour?" Sue asks. Sam laughs. Sue levels a look at Sam.

"She was fucking all the wolves." Sam says still leaving a slimy trial on the side of the bed as he thrusts against it.

"Ahh, that would do it. You will feel the urge to push when it's time." Sue tells her.

"I feel it now." You say gritting your teeth trying to hold back.

"Your baby is ready to come out now. So boys hold he legs up. She's going to push when the urge hits her." Sue tells them.

They boys take hold of one thigh each with one hand the other jerking their cocks.

You bear down next time the urge to push hits you. Sam and Paul both moan out loud. Finally the head is out and Paul cums on to you soaking your thigh, top of your pussy and he even got some on the babies head. You keep pushing and finally the baby is out. Paul pulls his sweats back out and follows Sue who has your son.

"Next, generation of wolves, baby girl. What a good girl." Sam says still jerking it. He aims his cock and shoots all over your pussy and ass. "This will help you heal." He says rubbing it in. Sue comes back in.

"A healthy baby boy. I checked, and he is Pauls. Sex with the wolves will help you heal faster." Sue says. Before she can get the full sentence out, Sam is thrusting hard into you. He leans over and whispers into your ear with a growl. "Next baby will be mine and you better be ready because I will fuck you multiple times a day until you are pregnant." Your pussy tightens and you both cum.

[jmflowers]

Swarla Kisses Rated [x]

1. "Don't get dressed." (22nd November 2024)

The loud noise that occurred at the moment this kiss aired was the sound of an entire population's proverbial panties dropping. Has there ever been a hotter line spoken? This is the power-necking the soap community taught us about. Swarla started off SO strong it's frankly terrifying. 14/10 Carla knew what she wanted.

2. "Have you?" (29th November 2024)

When the most confident dyke on the cobbles asks you if you've changed your mind about your feelings for her, you are required by law to stubbornly keep your hand on your hip. Even if she pushes your hair back from your face as delicately as humanly possible??? If Lisa Swain ever looked at me like that I would burst into flames. 11/10

3. "Is that better?" (16th December 2024)

We reached the domesticity era of their love in 0.2 seconds flat and I for one am not upset about it. The way Carla nuzzles in? The tilt of Lisa's head? The repetition? I was not expecting more kisses so soon in their story. The only way this could've gotten better is if they'd eaten each other's faces after this had been a clearer angle. 7/10 Carla Connor saying, “I want you.” plays on loop in my head at all times.

4. "Mmm... truffley." (20th December 2024)

The prolonged eye contact???? The dazed look on Lisa's face immediately after?? The fucking giggles???? The sheer power Carla Connor has and wields for good (ie. my own entertainment). Coronation Street said y'all deserve this. 10/10 Carla can hand feed me any day of the week.

5. "See you later." (20th December 2024)

Have you ever seen anyone look so peaceful about a decision before? Carla Connor said, "Today's the day I kiss my girlfriend in the street." I know y'all were waiting for that Live Sally Reaction and it did not disappoint. I hope they kiss each other goodbye constantly forever. 6/10 The way she analyzed Lisa's entire face before leaning forward made me scream both internally and externally.

6. New Year's Countdown (31st December 2024)

If you thought I wouldn't lose my mind over the image of them off in a corner of the pub in their own little world, you were wrong. I need to know if this was a scripting choice, an acting choice, or an editing choice for reasons. I'm never going to get sick of the way Lisa pulls Carla closer by the shoulders (almost) every time they kiss. Lisa closing her eyes like that makes my heart stop beating. 8/10

7. "Ooh, your lip!" (31st December 2024)

You ever just get aggressively snogged by a woman who's falling in love with you (while your lip is busted open from fighting bad guys)? Superheroes really don't get days off but they do get the girl. I miss the power-necking (literally a month ago?!?), but this was still so cute. 9/10 for the sheer fact that Carla needed a New Year's like this considering she dies like 12 hours later.

8. "Won't take that long." (31st December 2024)

Carla Connor isn't the only one who nearly fainted shortly after this kiss. Lisa said let me flutter my drunk eyelashes at you. The way Carla opened her mouth?? The breathy, "You want to go to bed?" from Lisa??? The fucking forehead lean???? I am too goddamn gay for this to be on my screen. How did we get a month into this relationship and already reach 8 kiss scenes? 10/10 thanks Coronation Street for the gay rights.

9. "Please don't leave me here." (1st January 2025)

The fact that Lisa could walk away from Carla in this moment is frankly mind-blowing; her face is the same colour as Betsy's shirt. Lisa, woman, OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES. Someone said Carla looks like she died 3 hours ago and they're not wrong. 3/10 because I'm a sucker for the domestic nature of this but also I want to punch everyone in the face for not protecting our sick baby. Gold star for the Corrie makeup department and their highlighter collection.

10. "Are we okay?" (8th January 2025)

Lisa Swain's affectionate eye roll immediately after Bobby interrupted them is like 1/1000th of how we all really felt. She lingered on this kiss for so long. The hand coming up to cup Carla's head? The forehead lean again? Carla's little smile when she realized what was about to happen? Give these ladies a room that isn't in hospital or full of their children. 9/10 we're watching f/f hurt/comfort fanfiction live on ITV.

11. Comforting Hand (9th January 2025)

We're deep in the trenches of this hurt/comfort storyline now, kids. I hope Lisa plans on sitting vigil at Carla's bedside for the rest of their damn lives (yes I'm wearing my clown makeup while I watch this soap). 4/10 because my self-deprecating baby pulled away from the love and support she deserves.

12. Good Luck (13th January 2025)

As far as kisses go, this barely passes the test, but THEY ARE FAMILY. Carla, proper bricking it. Betsy, also bricking it. Good thing Lisa Swain swooped in to wish her wife girlfriend good luck with the most vanilla cheek peck known to man. Someone get them a room and a dialysis machine whirring to drown out all their kids, stat! 5/10 cause I respect the domesticity.

13. "We'll make it happen either way." (17th January 2025)

At the precise moment that Carla Connor's head settled in against Lisa Swain's shoulder and her eyes closed and she smiled that little smile while Lisa declared them a 'we', my heart officially stopped beating and I passed away. Rating this soft head kiss an 8/10 from the grave because (whatever entity you believe is on the other side) agreed with me: that's the Connor-Swain family!

14. "I'm not scared. I'm not." (20th January 2025)

Carla Connor is absolutely not scared. And she absolutely did not inch forward slightly so that Lisa could be the one to decide to hold her and make her feel safe. Absolutely none of that happened. I'm going to forever be soft about all these forehead kisses and collapsing-into-each-other hugs. Rating this a 9/10 for the utter loving, vulnerability of it all. Now, go make sweet love about it!

15. "Ugh, in my dreams." (5th February 2025)

DOMESTICITY ERA IS A GO. They greet each other with kisses, y'all. We're really in it now... we've made it! Coronation Street said have all the vanilla lip pecks you desire, cause they live together. 7/10 Because all I'm really thinking about is them staying up all night in the glow of the dialysis machine making sweet love.

16. "...the best possible future I could imagine." (5th February 2025)

Lisa Swain: Certified Softy said I'm gonna stick by you so hard, Carla Connor. Through sickness and in lunch break. I'm obsessed with how committed she gets to these hand and forehead kisses; how long she hovers on the moment, making eye contact, making sure Carla knows what she means. 8/10 This is what love looks like.

[saphig-iawn]

New Year, New You

CW: non-con transformation

Despite the roiling buzz of the party you always seemed to be gazing over to her just as she turned her eyes to you. It felt like coincidence at first, like making multiple moments of eye contact with a stranger while waiting for something in a public place.

This moment, however, felt different. The moment your eyes met hers, you seemed to notice how the colours of her irises were a little more vivid. Your cheeks involuntarily blushed. You look away blinking quickly, as if to shake yourself free of a stupor and you made a bit of clumsy entrance into some festivities to distract yourself.

But no matter what you did, there was this... presence that wouldn't leave you. It felt like the room was shrinking with each passing moment, like the people at the party were just elaborate cutouts.

Prey stuck in the eyes of a predator.

Hiding among the long grass that was the buffet, you felt you were safe. A timid glass of punch in hand, you turned without looking and collided with someone.

The sting of embarrassment became a weight in your stomach as you clamour to apologise, and when you finally looked up, you saw her.

Everything went cold.

You couldn't help stare at the wet patch you had made on the bodice of her green satin dress.

Oh god you're just looking at her boobs now, what are you doing?! You panicked and began to pat her chest with a paper towel and- oh god now you're patting her breasts! Whatiswrongwithyouyou'remakingitworse-

You see her hand gently curl around your wrist.

You look up.

She simply hushes you.

Her eyes feel like they're looking into you, like their gaze is reaching through your eyes and into the you in your mind.

The panic ablates. The tremors calm.

"It was a little accident, don't worry darling", she croons.

Your mind tries to recount the accident, worsening it with each recollection, stuck in a bad recursive loop, but it all seems to slow. The longer you stare into her eyes, the easier it gets to just let that anxiety go.

"You've been quite the wallflower tonight, haven't you darling?" she continues.

The room begins to turn slowly, almost like its revolving around you. You wonder if the punch is hitting you, you remember how a 'friend' said they were going to spike it, but then your body begins to sway, almost rhythmically.

"You ok there, darling? Anyone in there?" she teases.

You shake your head and blink and realise that you were actually being walked away from the buffet by the woman in the green dress, not that something unwanted was getting into your bloodstream.

There's a strange feeling of.. disconnection? Delay? Like you thought you were still being walked when suddenly the plush softness of couch cushions rise up to meet your behind.

You felt like a marionette being guided; your body unresponsive but weightless. There was a bewilderedness stopping words from leaving your lips.

"You poor thing, you look quite ready to be done with this year, don't you?"

Those words felt like a warm hand cradling your cheek. A sigh involuntarily wisps from your lips.

"Oh I know darling, it won't be long. New Year, new you, and all that-" she smiled. God it was such a warm smile. "you've said that to yourself a lot haven't you, darling?"

A little weight manifests in your stomach. Misplaced guilt at the expectations of making New Year's resolutions. You never really subscribed to them, but the pressure from everyone else making them felt like it was a thing you had to do.

"I know that feeling too darling, perhaps we could welcome in this New Year with something a little better, hmm?"

She held your hand in hers, at the strike of people beginning to countdown.

10!

She takes your other hand.

9!

You sink into her eyes

8!

She smiles with a deep warmth.

7!

You feel you can't look away.

6!

Her gaze pierces deeper

5!

You can't look away.

4!

Her warmth spreads into you.

3!

You can't move.

2!

You can't tell where her warmth ends and yours begins.

1!

She gives you a single wicked wink.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You feel her pull at your hand. The room cartwheels around you. Your head prepares for the dizziness but its strangely absent. You crash into the warmth of her embrace and are unable to pull yourself away. It feels like the moment you crash onto your bed after a long shift.

Your vision remains stuck at the middle distance, her green satin shoulder almost filling half of it.

You hear a different voice come from behind you.

"Awww, is someone a bit too drunk, huh?", the voice teased.

"Yes, the poor thing, barely able to move. I'm going to call a ride." the woman in green responded.

With little effort she lifts you up off the couch and drapes your arm over her shoulders, and moves towards the exit.

The cheering dies down to a low distant rumble. The sound of the woman's shoes echo slightly. The corridor you were being lead down stops beneath your dragged feet.

You feel a warmth blossom under your jaw as your vision swings to face a mirror.

"There we are darling, a New Year, a new you!" the woman chuckled.

Your eyes can't help but drink in your reflection, mainly because they can't do much else, not even look around.

You saw you, but your clothes seemed to hang a little looser, like something changed underneath. The woman's hand cradling your jaw gently moves your head.

'I'm... a... doll...?' your mind attempts to think. The thought is excruciatingly slow. Like a single droplet of water dangling beneath a faucet.

"You don't have to worry about much any more, now. I'll take good care of you darling."

You feel her press her cheek against yours, her reflection just entering your peripheral vision.

"You're going to look so good in my collection..." she trails off as she continues to take you down the corridor to goodness knows where.

As the pattern of the carpet rolls across your vision like scan lines on an old television, your mind can't help but ponder over that word...

'Coll... ec... tion...?'

(If you would like to see more fiction writing like this, then please support me over at https://ko-fi.com/saphig, where you can also commission 1-on-1 hypnosis sessions and your own kinky short story just like this!)

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P12

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: I lowkey hate this ngl but Anyways!!!! The big day of the court hearing has finally arrived and I can't help but stir the pot. Also I'm imagining Hale as a total girl boss (if you get my vision). Baby Rafe and Y/n are so cute I'm dying. Sorry for taking so long with this chapter I'm a little in a writing stump but I'm getting there :)

warnings: references to s/a and non-con, emotional turmoil, inaccurate court proceedings (don't kill me im just a girl with a dream), Cooper (he deserves a warning), mentions of intoxication and alcohol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat near the tall window, staring out at the sky, now a deep orange, the rising sun peeking over the waters surrounding the Cameron’s dock. Her fingers anxiously worked at the buttons on the white material of her Chanel blazer. The polished luxury of it didn’t match how she felt- exposed. The world outside was still, but inside the office, the pressure pressed down on her chest. Across the room, Rafe adjusted the cuffs of his shirt for the third time, pulling at the stiff collar of his tailored suit. His tie was perfectly knotted, yet he kept tugging at it, like it was choking him. He didn’t speak, but his restless energy filled the space.

Their lawyer, Charlotte Hale, stood near the fireplace, flipping through a stack of papers in a leather folder. She was a powerhouse- a well-known defense attorney with a reputation for being ruthless in the courtroom. Years of high-profile cases in North Carolina had made her reputation the best in the state- Ward had pulled strings to get her on this case, knowing they needed someone unshakable in court, relentless with opposition. She shut the folder with a soft snap and looked up at the two teens in front of her.

“Alright. We’ve been over this.” Her voice was smooth but firm. “Rafe, you stay focused. No outbursts, no attitude. You explain why you did what you did and let me handle the rest. Y/N, they’re going to come at you and try to make you doubt yourself or twist your words. Don’t let them do that.”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a breath, “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Y/N nodded slowly, but her stomach twisted. Hale's eyes narrowed slightly, reading the tension between them. 

“The prosecution’s going to lean on Cooper’s clean record. I know this isn’t easy, but remember, we’re prepared. You’re telling the truth, and the evidence supports you.”

But will they believe it?

The room felt heavier as Hale checked her watch. “I’m going to head out and make sure the car’s ready. I’ll meet you both outside.”

Her heels clicked against the floor as she left, leaving a thick silence in her wake. Y/N shifted, smoothing her skirt down for the seventh time in the past hour. She stared down at her hands, picking at a loose thread on her blazer. Rafe finally moved, walking over to stand beside her.

“Hey.”

She barely turned to look at him.

“You good?” His voice was lower now, softer and her breath caught for a second. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

That’s a lie 

Rafe hesitated before reaching out, his hand brushing lightly against her arm.

She flinched.

It was small, barely noticeable, but he felt it. His hand froze, and his expression tightened, pulling back slightly. He felt guilty everytime he touched her, forgetting about her reaction, he never seemed to remember that things between them still weren’t completely the same as they used to be. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice rough.

Y/N swallowed hard. “No, it’s… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” Rafe’s tone was careful now, more guarded.

Y/N stared down at her hands, fingers tangled in the loose thread of her blazer. Her chest felt tight, every breath shallow and uneven, Rafe shifted beside her, his movements uncertain.

“Jesus, Rafe…” her voice cracked, barely holding together. “I’m so scared.”

Rafe’s breath caught in his throat. Without thinking, he crouched down in front of her, lowering himself to her level. His suit creased as he balanced on the balls of his feet, close but not too close. Carefully, he placed a hand on her knee- a gentle, grounding touch. Y/N looked at the boy's hand, and after a moment, she laid her own over his, her grip tight.

Rafe didn’t move but heart tightened, seeing the fear etched on her face, even if she denied it. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them, but he didn’t want her to feel like she was facing it alone. He moved a little closer, keeping his voice calm, but strong. 

“It’s okay, yeah? I’m gonna be sitting right next to you the whole time you’re not going to be alone in there.”

Her breath was shaky, but she looked at him, trying to hold herself together. “What if… what if I can’t handle it?” she whispered, her gaze falling to her lap. Rafe’s hand tightened slightly on hers, not enough to hurt but enough to let her know he was there,

“If it gets too much, you just tell me,” he said, his voice steady.

“We’ll step out. We can take a break, catch our breath. Whatever you need, I’ll be right there.”

Trust me

She looked up at him, a mixture of uncertainty in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything. He could see she was battling with herself- wanting to stay strong but feeling everything inside her unravel.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this by yourself,” he added softly, his words lingering between them, 

“We’re doing this together right?”

“Yeah”

“So that means we’ll deal with whatever the outcome is together okay” 

Y/N nodded, her throat tight, and though she didn’t have words to respond, the quiet understanding passed between them. Rafe’s hand on hers was the only thing that felt certain at that moment. Rafe stood in front of her, hand outstretched. 

“C’mon, princess,” 

...

He said, his smile light, Y/N’s hand hovered above his for a split second, before she paused, without a word she pulled her hand back, standing up on her own, and walking past him toward the door of the office. Her movements were stiff, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders were pulled tight, the way she avoided looking at him. He followed her closely, catching up just as she stopped at the door way. 

What was that?

“Are you okay?”

He asked, his brows drawn down slightly in confusion. She didn’t answer immediately, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Can you stop calling me that? ...Please?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard his tone called out perplexed, “What do you mean? It’s just a nickname, I’ve called you that since we were kids.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late afternoon sun dipped low over the Outer Banks, casting a soft golden haze across the sprawling Cameron estate, the chatter of adults spilled across the vast yard, the clinking of glasses and laughter occasionally arising. Rafe leaned against the brick wall, half-crushed juice box dangled from his fingers, the sticky liquid dripping onto his polo shirt. His hair was slightly messy from running with the other kids, though now he stood still, watching. 

Across the yard, tucked beneath the towering oak tree, Y/N sat alone in the grass. Her pale pink sundress was wrinkled from sitting too long, and a small silver tiara, pink gems embedded in the metal, was tilted awkwardly on her head. She threaded tiny wildflowers into a lopsided flower crown in her hands, lips pressed together in quiet determination, a small frown on her face.

Not far off, a group of slightly older girls huddled together, casting smug glances her way. One of them snickered loud enough to be heard, “She’s such a baby.” They broke into giggles, as they looked at the girl sitting on the floor, flipping their pigtails over their shoulders as they sauntered off toward the pool.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed.

At that moment he decided he didn’t like those girls. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets he stalked across the lawn toward Y/N, his trainers crunched over the dry grass, but she didn’t look up.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice flat but curious.

Y/N barely spared him a glance. “Making a crown.”

Rafe tilted his head. “Why?”

She let out a soft, frustrated sigh. “They said I can’t be a princess. But I can if I want to.” 

Her voice wavered just a little, but there was stubbornness in it too, the frown on her brow not easing. Rafe stared at her for a beat, then suddenly reached down and snatched the tiara off her head. She gasped, scrambling to her feet.

“Hey!” 

She attempted to grab it from him but he turned away, causing the girl to let out a huff and roll her eyes, stomping back to her spot under the tree plopping down onto the floor. However, instead of throwing it or making fun of her like she expected, Rafe carefully inspected the crooked tiara, looking at the little pink crystals on it, noticing the way it matched the pearly nailpolish on the girl's fingers, which were back to braiding the flowers together. With seriousness, he leaned down and placed it back on her head- straighter this time.

“You’re the princess of Figure Eight, they’re just jealous.”

He said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Y/N looked up to the boy skeptically, 

“You think so?”

Rafe shrugged, glancing over his shoulder toward where the other girls had gone, now sitting by the pool dipping their toes into the water, he grimaced as they giggled annoyingly. 

“Yup. So…do you need a knight?”

Her eyes lit up, a smile creeping onto her face. “Are you saying you’re my knight?”

Rafe wrinkled his nose. “No! Gross. I’m just saying… if they mess with you, I’ll throw mud at them or something.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cooper… he called me that when it happened.” 

Y/N turned to face him then, her gaze downcast, the words heavy on her lips, and it was like a punch to the boy’s gut, he hadn’t known. Rafe froze, guilt washing over him. 

“I didn’t know...” 

He reached out, but he didn’t touch her, not wanting to overwhelm her. Y/N didn’t respond at first, her eyes still focused on the ground. Rafe let out a long breath and nodded slowly. 

“I won’t call you that again- if uh, that's what you want.”

There was a long silence between them, and Y/N finally lifted her eyes to meet his. She nodded slightly, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. Rafe, not wanting to leave the conversation hanging awkwardly, cracked a small smile. 

“Well, if I’m not callin’ you ‘princess,’ I’ll have to find something else to call you, huh?” 

His tone was teasing, trying to break the tension. They began walking down the stairs, and Y/N’s fingers brushed against his as she moved down the steps, a small smile on her face as she walked alongside the boy, sending him a nod of agreement. They stood just outside the front doors of Tannyhill, the faint hum of the conversation behind them blending with the low murmur of water in the distance. Two cars were parked on the driveway ahead: their parents were deep in discussion with the lawyer.

Y/N’s eyes flickered between the cars, her fingers brushing over the hem of her blazer straightening it out as she pulled her matching white skirt down slightly. Rafe, standing close beside her, kept his hands by his side, yet he couldn't scratch the itch of wanting to take the girl's hand into his own, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her side. From behind them, a voice broke the silence drawing the boy from his daydream; 

“Y/N!”  

She turned, startled, Rafe glanced over his shoulder as well, his expression softening ever so slightly when he saw who it was. Wheezie, her dark hair bouncing around her shoulders, jogged toward them. She was holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, clumsily arranged but bright and cheerful nonetheless. She had been persistent on wanting to come to the courthouse with them but Ward refused her presence, the girl had been in a strop ever since, neither of them had seen her much since then. Wheezie came to a stop in front of Y/N. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. 

“Good luck today. You’ve got this.”  

Sweet girl

Y/N blinked, momentarily surprised, before she returned the hug with a small smile. “Thanks, Wheeze.”  

She pulled back and looked up at her brother. “You too, Rafe don’t mess up”  

Rafe scoffed lightly but ruffled her hair. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”  

Wheezie grinned before handing the wildflowers to the older girl. “These are for you. I picked them from the back garden because dad didn’t let me leave the house this morning. I thought you might like them- um well they’re not the best”  

Y/N’s heart swelled as she accepted the bouquet. Some of the small daisies sagged from their bent stems, drooping slightly from Wheezie’s strong grip, but Y/N adored the thoughtful gesture.

“They’re perfect,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the delicate petals.

She’d love her 

Rafe watched her quietly, his eyes lingered on the fragile bouquet in Y/N’s hands. Something about the way she held them- careful and soft- stirred something deep in his chest. His mother would often stand barefoot in the garden, snipping wildflowers and humming to herself, weaving them together, leaving little glass jars of blooms around the house, the house always filled with the scent of flowers; roses, daisies, whatever she could find.

He swallowed hard, blinking the image away.

“C’mon,” 

He muttered, as he took a few steps away from the front doors, heading toward the cars waiting in the driveway, he paused, turning slightly over his shoulder.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, his voice softer this time. Y/N lingered for a moment, leaning down slightly to press a gentle kiss to Wheezie’s forehead.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. Wheezie’s face lit up with a bright smile. “You’ll be fine don’t worry.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, squeezing the wilted bouquet a little tighter as she made her way down the steps of the patio. Walking up to the boy she pauses as the sound of the girls voice calls out again;

“You’ve got something hanging out of your pocket!”  

Wheezie piped up, eyes narrowing, Y/N paused, brows furrowed in confusion. She reached into the side of her blazer and felt the small, cool chain between her fingers.  

Oh 

She looked down to her hand as she pulled out the delicate gold necklace Rafe had given her long before things between them had spiraled. The dainty heart pendant swung gently at the end of the chain, catching the light from the sun. She turned to Rafe, holding it out between them as she asked softly, 

“Will you put it on for me?” 

Rafe blinked, caught off guard. His eyes flicked from the necklace to her face, trying to mask his surprise. A slow, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took the necklace from her hand. 

She kept it?

“Of course angel,” he murmured, stepping behind her.  

The nickname made her still for a moment.  

“Angel?” 

She asked quietly, her breath catching slightly as the words passed her lips. Rafe’s fingers worked the clasp with practiced ease, the gold coo against her skin. He hummed in response, the sound low and sure.  

“You’re my angel baby now”

Y/N’s hand instinctively rose to the pendant now resting against her skin, she turned slowly to face him, her fingers curling over the small heart as her eyes met his,

“I guess I am.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The white stone walls of the Kildare County Courthouse stood strongly, peering down at the commotion below. Both Kooks and Pogues mingled, a rare sight under normal circumstances, but today wasn’t normal considering the result of the most anticipated case the island was expecting was bound to be decided on today. Y/N stepped out of the car, the chatter washing over her like a wave, people turned to look as she approached the courthouse doors, already propped open with the steady flow of people filtering inside, others standing on their tiptoes to try and sight an empty seat inside. Some faces lit up with small, encouraging smiles as she walked past them towards the daunting . A few quiet, supportive voices broke through the crowd as she passed "Good luck, Y/N” or "You got this." arose from the chatter, she responded with a silent nod or small smile. 

But not all eyes were kind.

A few stares lingered too long, their eyes sharp with judgment. Subtle whispers rippled between tight-knit groups as she caught glimpses of people leaning into each other, murmuring things she couldn’t hear- and maybe didn’t want to. Despite the weight of their eyes, Y/N kept her chin high, shoulders squared. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

Rafe walked steadily beside her now, having caught up with the girl, his expression unreadable though his presence alone grounded her. Every now and then, his hand would brush lightly against hers in silent reassurance as they ascended the stone steps, to the open courthouse doors ahead, already littered with people, which Rafe had to push by to get through, grumbling under his breath. 

Get out of the way Jesus-

Every conversation bouncing off the walls, rows of people filled the benches, the divide between the two sides glaringly obvious. At the front, Topper, Kelce, Sarah, and John B sat close together, talking in hushed tones. Sarah's head snapped up first, her face softening when she saw Y/N.

"Y/N," Sarah was on her feet in an instant, pulling her into a tight hug, "are you okay?" her voice was barely above a whisper, concern heavy in every word. Y/N nodded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing. 

"Yeah, just…"

"...let’s get this over with" 

Rafe cut in smoothly, his tone firm, finishing her sentence for her, Y/N gave a small nod in agreement, offering Sarah a tight smile before pulling back.

Behind them, leaning casually against the wall, JJ, Kiara, and Pope watched the scene unfold. JJ’s jaw was tense, his arms crossed as his eyes flicked between the groups. Kiara muttered something under her breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Pope as he shook his head. Their glares were sharp, aimed squarely at the people gathered across the aisle on the other side of the hall.

The tension in the room was palpable, like the quiet before a storm.

Y/N's eyes drifted across the courtroom, scanning the faces on Cooper's side. Most were familiar- other Kooks she vaguely recognized- but a small group of sharply dressed people caught her attention. Their stiff posture and cold expressions stood out among the others. Leaning in slightly toward the group, Y/N lowered her voice. 

"Who are they?"

Topper followed her gaze, "They came down from New York, I heard. Family friends or something... probably here to make him look good."

"Right,"

As if that will help

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she muttered, her eyes narrowing for a moment before she pulled her focus back. Rafe glanced at her, catching the shift in her expression, but he didn’t say anything. The murmur of conversation in the courtroom seemed to fade, leaving an uneasy quiet in its wake. Y/N felt it first- but now her group had gone silent as well. The ambient noise around her dissipated, leaving a subtle tension hanging in the air. Confused, she glanced around. The teens in front of her had gone silent, their eyes were all trained on the door. A flicker of unease stirred in her stomach, and her gaze followed theirs as Cooper strolled in, his posture too relaxed for the gravity of the situation. His lawyer- sharp in a tailored suit- walked beside him, scanning the room with practiced detachment.

Y/N's eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, everything around them seemed to still.

Cooper’s steps were measured as he moved past, not rushing, knowing all eyes were on him, and as he neared her, he leaned closer just enough, his voice a quiet, deliberate hiss that only she could hear- but loud enough for the words to strike deep.

"Slut."

The insult sliced through the air, cold and sharp.

Y/N didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained steady, unwavering as she stared straight ahead. Her spine stayed stiff, her body unyielding, though her pulse quickened beneath the surface. Rafe’s head snapped in the direction of the boy’s movements, jaw clenching ferociously as he watched him walk by, Topper’s hand came out onto the boy's chest with a slight shake of his head, knowing exactly what he was thinking. 

Fucking asshole 

“C’mon” 

He says, his voice low, but firm, cutting through the tension. Y/n looks up at him, nodding as Rafe places a steadying hand on her back, a gesture that feels comforting during this period of uncertainty. His touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary, offering reassurance as they make their way down the row to their seats, as they move, the room seems to quiet down to a silence now all eyes turn toward them. People can’t help but watch the two who have been the center of the storm for weeks. Y/N holds her head up, though she feels every inch of their stares, the only thing that keeps her moving forward is Rafe’s presence beside her, strong and unwavering.

They reach the front of the courtroom, and Rafe pulls out a chair for Y/N before settling into his own seat beside her. His posture is stiff, his jaw tight with anticipation, but it’s clear he’s fully focused on Y/N. Hale stands at the front with the rest of the legal team, her gaze flicking between the opposing side and her clients, her steady presence adds an extra layer of security as they settle in. The moment they sit down, she turns toward them, giving a subtle nod of reassurance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe was called to the stand first, his movements smooth as he stood and took his place, his jaw set, his eyes steady. The room was silent as everyone waited for him to speak, watching as the Cameron boy walked behind the stand and sat down, he leant back in the chair as he watched Hale rise, her expression a mix of calculating and clinical as she addressed him.

“Mr. Cameron, can you walk us through what happened on the night in question? Start from when you noticed Ms Y/L/N was missing.”

Rafe’s voice was calm, controlled, though there was an undercurrent of intensity that wasn’t lost on anyone as he recited his memory of the events of the night. Hale nodded as she listened to the boy, her eyes looking over to the jury, where she noticed a few of them taking notes. She thanked Rafe as he finished his testimony and stepped to the side, Cooper’s lawyer standing and addressing him, eyes cold and calculating.

“Mr. Cameron,” 

Cooper's lawyer, Dune, began pacing slightly as he spoke, “You’ve testified that you walked into the room and found Ms Y/L/N in distress, but let’s go back a bit. You said you were looking for her because she had gone missing. Is that correct?”

Rafe nodded, his voice steady. “Yes. I couldn’t find her anywhere, which I thought was weird so I had to check around the house to find her.”

“Tell me something Rafe,” he paused, “Why wasn’t Y/n with you in the first place?”

Rafe’s expression remained neutral, though there was a subtle tension in his jaw as he looked at the man, he knew exactly what he was doing, Hale had told him about his possible strategies, trying to rile him up so he would have an outburst in front of the jury and prove his ‘violent’ nature- he wasn’t going to let that happen, if not for his own sake then for Y/n’s.

“She came to the party with Cooper. We weren’t together that night, so I didn’t know where she was.”

Cooper’s lawyer nodded, a slight smirk on his face as he continued. “So, you’re telling this court that you were so concerned about Ms Y/L/N, yet you weren’t with her when you knew she was there, and that she was drunk? Is that what you’re claiming?”

Rafe didn’t flinch, his tone calm, “Yes. We weren’t exactly on speaking terms at the time, I didn’t know where she was until I asked around.”

A brief, look of knowing passed between Cooper and his lawyer as he pressed on, his voice becoming more pointed. Rafe played with the signet ring on his finger,

“And you weren’t speaking to her because you had a falling out,” The lawyer’s tone suggested he was about to unearth something damaging,

Seriously?

“A rather public falling out, if I’m not mistaken?”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he kept his composure. “Yes. We had a disagreement, but that doesn’t change what happened. I was still concerned when I couldn’t find her.”

The lawyer smirked, sensing an opening.

“Isn’t it true, Mr. Cameron, that you and Ms Y/L/N had a rather heated argument not long before that night? You called her- what was it… a ‘slut,’ if I recall correctly from what my client has told me?”

The room went still, the air thick with tension.

Oh

Rafe’s face remained expressionless, though the accusation hung in the air like a weight, he noticed the way Y/n tensed slightly in her chair next to Hale and he had to bite his tongue. However, that wasn’t what discomforted him the most, his eyes drifted behind the girl where her parents sat, and he could see the evident frown on her father’s face as he looked from his daughter to the boy. His eyes darted away quickly and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of shame wash over him. He cleared his throat slightly before continuing, 

“That was a private matter,” 

Rafe replied, his voice level, though there was a quiet firmness in his words. “It was a personal disagreement. It doesn’t change the fact that I was worried about her that night.”

Cooper’s lawyer pushed further, not letting up. “But surely that means you weren’t really that concerned, right? You couldn’t have been if you were still harboring such anger toward her, especially after you insulted her in such a way. Doesn’t that make your actions more about jealousy than concern for her well-being?”

What?

Rafe’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t let the lawyer’s words rattle him even though he hadn't expected this line of questioning.

“I was concerned about her because she was in trouble,” Rafe said slowly. “The argument had nothing to do with what happened, it was two months before halloween.”

The lawyer wasn’t done yet.

“But it could have, couldn’t it? Perhaps you were angry that she was with someone else, and that’s why you broke down the door and attacked Mr. Miller. Maybe you were just trying to play the hero because you were jealous that she wasn’t with you.”

Stop talking shit man

Rafe’s calm demeanor never wavered was he could feel the irritation crawling up the back of his neck,

 “I didn’t break down the door because I was jealous, I broke it down because I knew something was wrong. When I heard Y/n crying and couldn’t get her to respond, I was seriously worried. I wasn’t thinking about anything else.”

The lawyer raised his voice a little, pushing harder now, evidently thrown off by the fact that Rafe hadn’t lashed out at him yet. 

“Yet you didn’t even try to make sure the situation was under control. You didn’t stop to think- just barged in, without considering if you were making the situation worse.”

At this point, Hale stood up, her voice cutting through the uneasiness in the room.

“Objection, Your Honor,” she said, standing straight with a clear, authoritative tone. “This line of questioning is irrelevant to the case. The defense is speculating about Mr. Cameron’s emotions and intentions which are unnecessary.”

The judge looked over at Hale, his expression thoughtful as he considered her objection. After a brief pause, he nodded slightly.

“Objection sustained,” he said firmly. “Move on, Counsellor.”

About time

Cooper’s lawyer visibly bristled but, after a moment, turned back to Rafe with a more neutral expression.

“You said when you entered the room,” the lawyer pressed, “You found Mr. Miller standing over Ms Y/L/N, correct?”

Rafe’s voice was steady, though there was a subtle hardness to it now. “He was standing above her, acting like nothing had happened.”

The lawyer’s expression hardened, his eyes flickering toward the jury as he made his point. “So, you immediately assumed the worst, you didn’t consider that perhaps Ms Y/L/N had simply fallen and hurt herself?”

Yeah right, cause you think I'm blind?

Rafe’s gaze never left him as his eyes narrowed, “No. When I saw her, she was bleeding, her clothes were ripped. It was obvious he had hurt her, how could she have ripped her own clothes herself?”

The lawyer’s voice was now dripping with doubt, “So despite the fact that you had no clear evidence of any wrongdoing, you decided to take matters into your own hands and you physically attacked Mr. Miller?”

Are you even listening to me?

Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. “I didn’t attack him, I was protecting Y/n. I told him to get away from her, but he evidently wasn’t listening to me since he blocked my path, so I had to do what I needed to do to ensure Y/n was safe.”

“But he wasn’t physically attacking her at that moment Mr Cameron so why did you beat him to the brink of death,” the lawyer asked, leaning in. 

Rafe’s response was swift, his tone firm. “He didn’t need to be- I saw the blood, the bruising, and I knew she wasn’t okay, I wasn’t going to let him hurt her. What if I had left and he continued?”

There was a slight pause as the lawyer adjusted his stance, clearly trying to manipulate Rafe’s response.

“So, you’re saying you acted out of concern for Ms Y/L/N, but you didn’t have a clear understanding of what had happened, correct?” Rafe’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but his composure never cracked. 

“I knew what had happened. And I wasn’t going to let Cooper continue to sexually assault Y/n when I could have stopped it”

A murmur rose from the crowd watching, whispers of agreement arising causing the lawyer to give him one last, sharp look and his jaw tightened, but he gave a sharp nod, signalling the end of his questioning and he returned to his seat, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s unwavering calm.

Fuck you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cooper adjusted his suit cuffs as he approached the stand, every step slow and confident, clearly no hesitation in his movement. Y/n tensed slightly in her seat, keeping her eyes on the worn down wooden table in front of her, the surface clearly eroded over the years, gloss dull and matted. Rafe looked over at the girl, his hand moving out slowly and placing over hers which was resting on her knee, he squeezed her hand slightly in silent support, and her eyes flicker up from the table looking up at him. If they weren't in the situation they’ve found themselves in, Y/n would have taken more time to admire the boy sitting next to her, smartly clad in a black suit, grey tie neatly done up, white shirt pristine against his tanned skin. She could feel the coolness of his signet ring against her skin and the feeling grounded her for a second, her eyes met his and she gave him a small smile, which he returned. The bailiff stepped forward,

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.”

Cooper’s voice was steady, calm, as though he’d dealt with situations like this many times before. Cooper’s lawyer rose, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Mr. Miller, thank you for being here today. I know this has been difficult for you.”

Cooper gave a practiced, somber nod as he spoke out, “Yes. It’s been… overwhelming. But I want to clear the air, if not for my own wellbeing but for those who are being affected personally why this disagreement.”

His tone was soft, measured as he spoke, hands clasped together, with a small nod of his head.

“Let’s start with the night in question. Can you explain to the court what happened between you and Miss Y/L/N?”

Cooper sighed quietly, eyes flicking briefly toward Y/N.

“I was at the party with Y/n and like everyone else I was drinking, having fun, and of course we were separated for a while. You know I have many other friends at the party so I left her to do her own thing. But then when I saw Y/N, she seemed pretty out of it, and much like any other normal person would be, I was concerned for her.”

A pause came in his words as he pushed his hair out of his face and continued,

“She was drunk, and I didn’t think it was safe for her to be alone, so I offered to help her find the bathroom and she agreed. She could barely stand, I mean when I was leading her up the stairs I almost had to carry her up myself. She was leaning on me so much, so that led me to infer she clearly wasn't in a stable state.”

Cooper leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just enough to sound sincere.

“We ended up in a bedroom with a bathroom attached. She wasn’t feeling well so I tried to get her somewhere quieter, the downstairs bathroom was so busy. She went in, and when she came out, I kissed her and she happily kissed me back.”

His eyes met the jury’s as he spoke, “I thought it was mutual... She never told me to stop. Not once.”

Liar

He let the words sink in as his lawyer prompted gently. “And then?” Cooper shook his head slowly.

“It started getting a little heated, sure but then, out of nowhere, she elbowed me in the stomach.”

His hand instinctively brushed his waist as if remembering before shaking his head as he continued strongly,

“I backed off immediately. I thought maybe she was more drunk than I realized and she was reacting violently, so I tried to help her up but then she tripped over her own feet fell, it must've been from those heels she was wearing. She hit her head and I panicked, to be honest  I didn’t know what to do.”

He looked down taking a moment before he spoke up again voice cracking slightly,

“I was trying to help her and then Rafe kicked down the door and attacked me for no reason, just started hitting me over and over. I thought I was going to die.”

Cooper’s lawyer gave a sympathetic nod as he looked at the teen asking, “Did you try to explain to Mr. Cameron what happened?”

“Yes of course I did, I told him she fell. That I was helping her but he wouldn’t listen to me. He wanted to believe I was hurting her, but I wasn’t. I swear to God, I wasn’t.”

The courtroom was silent as his lawyer let the words linger.

“Have you ever forced yourself on Ms Y/L/N or anyone else?”

Cooper’s eyes narrowed slightly, his face expressing disgust long enough for him to speak out,

“No. Never.”

You're such a fucking Liar

He sat perfectly still, letting the jury absorb his calm denial as his Lawyer shook his head with a small smile in his direction before turning towards his table and standing by his seat, “Thank you, Mr Miller. No further questions.” Cooper exhaled, sitting back in his seat as his eyes flicked toward Y/N, just for a second. She stared back at him, refusing to look away, and the boy's gaze hesitated, darting over her posture, evidently catching her close proximity with Rafe. Hale rose from her seat, a cold precision in her movements as she stepped forwards, voice clear and approaching with a quiet authority.

“Mr. Miller”

Cooper turned toward her, polite smile, his eyes looking the woman up and down, “Yes?”

“You’ve told this court that Ms Y/L/N never objected to your advances. That she never said no. Correct?”

Cooper nodded, keeping his expression neutral, “That’s right.”

Hale’s eyes sharpened, tilting her head slightly as she looked to the boy when she spoke,

“And yet, the rape kit performed the morning after the incident found bruising consistent with forceful restraint. Bruises on Ms Y/L/N’s wrists and thighs.”

She paused as she peered over to the jury, many member’s frowning as they listened to the woman's words, “Would you like to explain how she got those?”

Cooper’s jaw tightened, just slightly, as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his shoulders shrugging slightly.

“She was drunk, she might’ve fallen. Or maybe when she hit me I-”

“Oh, so now you’re suggesting you might’ve left those marks?”

A flicker of frustration crossed his face as he narrowed his eyes at her speaking out more forcefully now, “No, I’m saying she was drunk and unsteady. She could’ve bruised herself.”

Hale took a step closer towards the boy behind the witness stand as she crossed her arms again, “On both wrists and thighs?”

Cooper hesitated.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Objection,” Cooper’s lawyer snapped. “Argumentative.” Y/n mentally rolled her eyes at the man’s comment, of course he was going to object to Hale, she was proving to the jury that the boy sitting in front of them was nothing but a conniving manipulator. “Sustained. Move on, Ms. Hale.” The lawyer smoothed her blazer down before continuing, 

“Let’s talk about the door.”

Cooper blinked as he looked at her cluelessly, the questioning was going nothing like his lawyer had told him it would and Hale could tell from the boy's body language, he was now fully sitting up leaning forward as he spoke, arms resting on the witness stand.

“What about it?”

“The bedroom door was locked. From the inside.” 

Cooper hesitated as he looked at the woman before a confused expression slipped onto his face, “I don’t remember locking it, maybe Y/n did it or it got jammed closed, I didn’t lock it.”

The woman gave a nod, however she wasn't fooled by his petty excuse,

“Well considering you stated that my client was severely drunk as you led her up to the room, I doubt she would be capable of locking the door herself as that takes coordination which, from your recollection Mr Miller, she did not have. You said Rafe attacked you without reason but isn’t it true that when he tried to get to Y/N, you blocked him and told him to stay out of it?”

Cat got your tongue bitch?

Cooper’s expression darkened for a split second and Y/n could depict a flash of panic behind his eyes, “I told him she was fine I didn’t want him to overreact-”

“-Overreact?” Hale’s voice sharpened. “He found her bruised, barely conscious on the floor with you hovering above her helpless frame, I wouldn’t consider that ‘overreacting,’ would you?”

Cooper’s jaw tightened, as he watched the woman peer over to the jury, his eyes narrowed as he spat out,

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“Funny. You seem to remember everything else so clearly, but not that.”

Rafe peered over at Y/n, eyes lingering on her, taking note of her hand resting on the table, her finger picking at the skin on her thumb which had now turned an irritated pink, his brows drew down in concern as his hand reached out to push her finger away from her thumb, she looked up at his confused, eyes now drawn away from her hand. It was evident she was anxious, the boy didn't need to be genius to realise that, so he gestured over to Cooper with his eye’s, the girls following the boys gaze, her vision landing on the boy on the stand who now had a sour expression on his face, clearly displeased with the way Hale was persistently digging into him. 

“One more thing I’d like to draw attention to is Miss Y/L/N’s head injury. The medical report shows blunt force trauma consistent with her skull being slammed against a hard surface,” the women turned away from the jury and now directed her questioning to Cooper,

“did she ‘fall’ into the floor too?”

Cooper’s lips pressed into a thin line as he bit back at the woman, “She hit me first. I lost my balance, and we both went down.”

“So you’re saying you accidentally slammed her head into the ground?”

“That’s not what I—”

Hale stepped forward, cutting him off as she crossed her arms, “Tell me, Mr. Miller When Y/n tried to crawl to the door, did you help her up?”

“I- she wasn’t-”

“Or did you pull her back?”

“I didn’t-”

“Did you hit her head against the floor to keep her quiet?”

“No!”

The word echoed in the courtroom, Cooper’s face flushed as he slammed his hand down against the witness stand, Y/n jumped slightly at the sound.

Silence.

Hale leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a deadly calm.

“Then why did she have a concussion, Mr. Miller?”

Cooper’s throat worked to swallow as he hesitated, his eyes looking over to his own lawyer. Hale’s eyes locked onto his about to speak again yet she was cut off,

“You’re a lying son of a bitch!”  

What?

The words erupted from the back of the courtroom, sharp and venomous, slicing through the tense silence like a blade. Gasps rippled across the room as every head turned toward the source of the outburst. A man stood rigid, his face red with fury, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles blanched. Before the shock could fully settle, another voice snarled from Cooper’s side, colder, sharper. Y/N whipped her head around, following the sound of the man’s voice, and her eyes landed on the last person she expected to see- the captain from her family’s yacht. Surprise rippled through her chest, he’d always been a quiet, steady presence in her life, seeing him now, standing rigid with fury on her behalf, sent a strange mix of comfort washing over her.

“Shut the fuck up, Pogue!”  

Oh shit-

A man shot up from where he was sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the hall, shoulders squared, lips curled in a sneer. His voice carried like a threat, heavy with disdain, the insult cracking like a whip in the charged atmosphere, it was like striking a match in a dry forest.  

Voices broke out in overlapping shouts- some in protest, others in confusion. Chairs scraped at the back of the hall, where there hadn’t been enough benches for people to sit on, the polished floor being scratched as people shifted, some rising slightly, others leaning forward as if expecting the tension to snap into violence. Chaos swelled, voices stacking over one another, each second pulling the room further from order.  

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The gavel slammed down with heavy force, each strike louder than the last, commanding the room to heel.  

“Order!” the judge bellowed, his voice slicing clean through the noise.  

BANG. 

“ORDER IN THIS COURT!”  

The room recoiled as voices died mid-sentence and everyone’s movements stilled. The judge leaned forward, his glare sweeping across the courtroom, cold and unforgiving, “One more interruption, and I will not hesitate to clear this courtroom. Do I make myself clear?”  

The silence that followed was suffocating.  

The man on Cooper’s side slumped back into his seat, muttering under his breath, though his eyes still burned with quiet hostility. Across the aisle, the captain who had first shouted stood frozen for a moment longer, chest heaving, before slowly sinking back into his chair, his glare locked on Cooper with a hatred that didn’t need words. The air felt heavier now, weighted with unsaid threats and lingering tension, but the judge exhaled slowly, fingers flexing around the gavel.  Cooper, pale and rigid on the stand, didn’t dare look at anyone as the judge turned his attention back, his voice was low but firm,

“Mr. Miller Answer the question.”

Cooper’s lips barely moved.

“I- I don’t know.”

Yet no one believed him as Cooper sat frozen on the stand, his composed mask cracked, his palms pressed against the wood. As Y/n watched him, sitting in the spotlight, this was the first time she’d noticed that he didn’t look so confident. Hale didn’t need to say another word as she turned on her heel, returning to her seat. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The courtroom felt colder when Y/N was called to the stand.

Her name echoed through the silence, and for a heartbeat, she couldn’t move until Rafe’s hand brushed her arm briefly, a quiet reassurance and Hale gave her a small nod. The girl rose on shaky legs, feeling every set of eyes turn toward her. The floor seemed too far away, her heels too loud as she crossed the room, Each step felt heavier than the last she made her way to the daunting witness stand. As she sat down, the wooden chair hard and unyielding beneath her eyes flickered to Cooper for half a second. The boy leaned back in his chair slightly.

Fuck you

Hale rose smoothly, standing in front of the jury with a calm, composed presence.

“Y/N,” Hale’s voice softened, “I know this is difficult, but I need you to walk us through what happened that night. Please, tell the jury what you remember, every little detail helps.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

“I was at Matthew White’s house on halloween night for the party he was hosting, well there was a lot of drinking obviously, and after a while I-” She paused, clearing her throat slightly, “ um- I was really drunk so Cooper offered to help me… to the bathroom.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt as her eyes darted around the room, everyone staring back at her, many expressionless, others with their eyebrows drawn down as they listened to her words.

“But he took me into a bedroom with a bathroom attached, and I thought that was odd but I didn’t say anything and I went into the bathroom by myself, and then, when I came out, he was there… waiting for me.”

Her throat tightened slightly as her nail started to scratch at the material of her skirt to distract herself as she spoke and she pushed forward.

“I was feeling dizzy when I came out so I went to sit down but Cooper sort of got in the way. Then next thing I know he’s kissing me. I didn’t stop him at first. I thought- I thought it was harmless...”

She heard a murmur arise from the crowd, and as she looked past Hale her eyes caught onto some people shaking their heads with disbelief, some of the people on Cooper's side of the court were rolling their eyes, causing her teeth to grind against each other. 

“But then it… it escalated and he started touching me more aggressively. And I- I told him to stop I— I was saying it, but it was like… like I wasn’t loud enough or he just wasn’t listening. I was… drunk, and it was hard to get the words out so I tried pushing him off, but he wouldn’t listen… to me.”

Keep it together Y/n

Her breath grew shaky and she could feel her bottom lip trembling so her hand tightened on the armrest of her seat.

“I started to panic so I hit him. I elbowed him and I tried to move when he let go of me, but I stumbled. I hit my head on something and I fell… I tried crawling to the door, but…”

Her voice broke, and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

“…but he grabbed me. And he didn’t stop.”

The words barely made it out past her lips and for a moment she wondered if this was worth it. What if they didn't win the case, was she really ready to be humiliated in front of almost the whole island. Hale’s voice rang out in her ears and she realised she must have been standing there silently for longer than she thought,

“Are you okay to continue-”

“-Yes, uh sorry yes, so I was crying and I remember someone trying to open the door. And I was relieved but then, I realised it was locked, so I reacted upon instinct and I… Well I headbutted Cooper to get him off me and I thought I could crawl over to the door but- but he just- he slammed my head into the floor and then… it’s blurry. I think I blacked out momentarily.”

Her hands trembled in her lap.

Baby-

“The next thing I remember was Rafe in the room and Cooper was on the floor, and uh… Rafe was, he was hitting him. And I- I couldn’t move because my whole body was aching so I couldn’t- I couldn’t move.”

Her voice cracked, and she looked down avoiding the burning gaze of the boy who was staring at her angrily. Hale gave her a moment, then spoke softly.

“Thank you, Y/N. No further questions, Your Honor.”

Y/N barely breathed as Hale returned to her seat.

But the relief didn’t last as Cooper’s lawyer leaned over to the boy whispering something in his ear before he rose slowly, unbuttoning his blazer. His expression was calm, but there was something cold behind his eyes. He approached the stand with careful steps,

“Ms Y/L/N,” he began smoothly, “I want to make sure I understand. You willingly followed Mr. Miller into that bedroom, correct?”

Y/N’s lips pressed together.

“I… he said he was taking me to the bathroom.”

“And you didn’t object to going with him?”

Her jaw tensed.

“No.”

“You also said that when Mr. Miller kissed you, you didn’t stop him. In fact, you were okay with it at first?”

Her stomach twisted.

“Yes. But—”

He raised a hand casually.

“Just yes or no, please.”

Asshole

Her hands gripped the seat.

“Yes.”

“So at that point, things were consensual.”

“That’s not what I said!” 

A sharp silence cut through the room as she spoke out louder than expected, the lawyer paused, raising an eyebrow brow at her behaviour, clearly amused by the situation. Hale stood abruptly at the girl's distress.

“Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is badgering the witness.”

The judge barely acknowledged the woman's voice, focused on the papers he was reading, hand moving up to pull the wire rimmed glasses off his face as he looked up and spoke out to the lawyer before turning to the girl,

“Overruled. Watch your tone, Ms Y/L/N. Answer the question.”

Rafe watched the girl from his seat next to Hale, his hands clasped together on the table, leg nervously bouncing underneath it. Hale had told him he couldn't act out today, that if he did the chances of them winning the case would be minimal, so he sat there, silent, unmoving, his pulse thudding heavily in his ears as he watched the girl in front of him being scrutinized on her every word and action. She cleared her throat before she spoke up again,

“At first, yes. But when it got worse-”

“And you were intoxicated at this point, correct? Heavily intoxicated?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s fair to say your memory of what exactly was said or done might not be entirely clear?”

What?

Y/N’s throat burned.

“I remember saying no.”

“But you just admitted you were mumbling and not speaking clearly. Is it possible that Mr. Miller didn’t hear you?”

This isn't fair

Her heart hammered as the man pressed his questioning.

“I—No. He knew.”

“But you can’t say for certain what he heard, can you?”

Silence. What was she even meant to respond to? She sat there staring at him before mumbling out,

“No.”

The lawyer smiled faintly, turning toward the jury as he folded his arms and continued speaking.

“You also stated that you hit him first. That you initiated physical violence against him. Correct?”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly at the man's question, the judgemental mumble rising from the crowd once more. She looked over to Hale who was staring down at her paper writing something down ferociously, her gaze then drifted over to Rafe whose jaw was clenched tightly, brows filled down into a frown, he gave her a small shake of the head.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“I hit him because he wouldn’t stop—”

“But you hit him. Yes or no?”

“This isn’t fair! I was defending myself!”

The lawyer’s lips curled slightly as he observed the girl lose her temper, he raised his hand stopping her protests as he spoke out.

“But you hit him first. Yes or no?”

Y/N’s mouth opened before it closed again, she breathes out heavily through her nose before she sighed out,

“Yes.”

He took a slow step back nodding his head to himself, from the corner of her eye she noticed one of the jury members leaning over, whispering something into the ear of the man sitting next to her causing him to nod in agreement. She felt a lump start to form in her throat.

“So, to summarize- you followed him willingly, kissed him willingly, didn’t clearly say no, and then physically attacked him. Isn’t that correct?”

“That’s not-”

“Yes or no?”

Her hand was trembling in her lap as her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lisp, her voice barely was barely audible as she spoke,

“Yes.”

The lawyer gave a small, satisfied nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he walked back towards the table, shuffling through his papers before placing them down. He leaned over to Cooper slightly mumbling something. For the moment that he had his back turned to her, she let out a shaky breath and her hand came up shakily to run over teh bridge of her nose. Her eyes looked up and caught Rafe’s, ‘Are you okay?’, the boy mouthed in her direction causing her to give him a slight nod.

No

Her attention was drawn back to Dune as he spoke to her once again, “If I remember correctly from what you stated for us in your testimony earlier, after my client ‘supposedly’ harmed you, you blacked out afterward. Does that sound right to you Ms Y/L/N?”

She looked at him expressionless, she refused to give Cooper the satisfaction of seeing her in this position, he was already staring at her, tapping his fingers against the table.

“For a moment.”

“So you can’t say for certain what Cooper was doing when Mr. Cameron entered the room?”

Her entire body froze.

“I know what he was doing, he- he was hurting me”

“But you can’t prove it, can you?”

"I-"

“Objection!” Hale’s voice cut through the air. “Argumentative.”

The judge shook his head slowly as he turned to the man, “Sustained, If you don't have more to say on the matter Mr. Dune move on.” The lawyer’s gaze was steady as he looked to Y/n with a smile, nothing but sarcastic and forced, 

 “No further questions, Your Honour.”

Y/N sat frozen, the blood roaring in her ears as Cooper’s lawyer returned to his seat, composed and calm. Her eyes drifted over to the boy sitting next to him, now sitting back comfortably in his seat, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The air in the courtroom felt thick, suffocating, as Y/N slowly made her way back to her seat next to Rafe. Her legs felt unsteady, as though they might give way beneath her at any moment. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her head spinning from the brutal questioning and the weight of reliving that night. The boy’s eyes didn’t leave her as she sat down, his gaze sharp and concerned. He could see the way she was trembling, her fingers clenched tightly on the edge of the chair, her breaths uneven. His jaw tightened with a protective instinct he couldn’t suppress. Cooper’s lawyer was now droning on, continuing his cross-examination of some irrelevant point, but Rafe wasn’t paying attention. He leaned closer to her, his voice low enough not to interrupt the court, but with an edge of urgency. 

“...are you okay?”

Y/N flinched slightly, not expecting him to speak so close, but when she met his eyes, her facade crumbled. Before she got out of the car outside the courthouse she told herself she wouldn’t break down in front of everyone, she refused to do so, it was humiliating, embarrassing, shameful, but now she didn’t have the strength to hold it in anymore

“I… I can’t breathe” 

Shit

She whispered, her voice barely audible. The words hung in the air, and Rafe’s heart clenched as he took in her slightly trembling frame. Before she could say more, he immediately sat up straighter, his hand moving to her arm, his fingers brushing against her skin in a silent gesture of comfort, but it was clear she was struggling to keep her composure. He glanced at Hale, who was sitting just a few feet away, her eyes fixed on the proceedings. 

“Hale,” he murmured urgently, leaning in.

“We need a break. Now.”

Hale looked at him, taking in the concern written all over his face, she didn’t hesitate for a second as her gaze drifted over to the girl’s hands, now situated in her lap, gripping at the material of her skirt. Hale stood up swiftly, cutting through the Dune’s long-winded explanation, her voice rang clear and commanding.

“Your Honour, we request a brief recess. My client is clearly in distress.”

The judge, who had been watching closely, raised an eyebrow. He had noticed the way Y/N was reacting, her flushed face and rapid breathing, he let out a hum, looking over to the clock situated on the wall and gave a small nod.

“Very well,” the judge said, his voice carrying authority. “We’ll take a short recess.”

The bailiff slammed the gavel down, and a murmur of surprise rippled through the room as the court was officially adjourned for the break.

Get me out of here-

Y/N didn’t wait for anyone to speak to her. As soon as the gavel hit, she stood up quickly, her knees unsteady as she jerkily pushed the chair away from the table, and without saying a word, she rushed towards the doors. The eyes of the entire courtroom were on her as she made her way out, her steps hurried as the clicks of her heels were heard bounding against the wooden floor.

Rafe was already on his feet, his hand on his chair as he followed after her mumbling out a small ‘sorry’ under his breath to Hale, moving quickly but quietly followed in the girl's steps. 

The aisle to the exit of the courtroom felt endless as she rushed down it, desperate to escape the feeling of being trapped inside its walls. The noise from the courtroom still echoed in her mind, but it was the tightness in her chest that terrified her the most. She felt like she was suffocating.

“Y/N!” 

Rafe’s voice cut through the distance as he caught up with her. She pushed through the heavy courtroom doors, she didn’t look back, the weight of everything pressing down on her with every step. The sound of her heels hitting against the cement of the steps reverberated in her ears, her hands coming up to push her hair out of her face as she walked, suddenly pulling her blazer off her body, feeling claustrophobic. Rafe’s hand reached out gently to touch her arm, she stopped but didn’t turn to face him. He could see her shoulders trembling, and the strong grip she had on her blazer which was now crumpled in her hand. Rafe kept his voice low, calm, 

“You’re okay. Just breathe, Y/N. Please…”

But she didn’t respond, the sobs choking her before she could form any words. Her face was instantly covered by her palms, her hands shaking, as she tried to hide herself, overcome by shame. Rafe’s chest tightened with the need to comfort her, to fix this, but there was nothing he could do but hold her steady.

“Y/N, look at me,” 

He urged gently, but she still wouldn’t face him so he stepped closer, his hands resting on her shoulders as he turned her toward him. His voice softened even more, a quiet command.

 “Y/N, need you to breathe for me.”

I can't-

Her ragged breaths began to slow ever so slightly, but they didn't disappear as she leaned into him, her face buried against his chest. The moment felt fragile, as though she might break apart at any second.

“Just breathe,” 

Rafe repeated, holding her close, his fingers gently running over her back, he didn’t care who was watching; although there was no-one outside, Shoupe had clearly kept the crowd inside to provide the two with some privacy. He let his hold on her drop slightly as she pulled back taking in a shaky breath, fingers trying to carefully wipe at the tears which clung to her lower lashes, careful not to smudge anymore of her mascara, but her crying wasn’t making it any easier for her.

Y/N took a few steps back and leant against the wall, before she slowly moved down the cold brick now slumped, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if she were trying to hold herself together. The coldness of the courthouse walls did nothing to ease the anxiety and anger coursing through her, heating her skin. Her breath was still wavering, shaky sobs escaping from her as her mind continued to replay the questioning, over analysing every moment. Rafe didn’t hesitate as he crouched down beside her, his gaze soft as he leaned back against the wall, mirroring her position, close enough to feel the tension in her body, but careful not to crowd her.

“I know. I know, angel” 

He said quietly, his voice deep and soothing. His fingers brushed over the back of her hand, a grounding touch as she continued to tremble. 

“It’s okay.”

Her eyes stayed down, her breathing still shallow, but the words she spoke next made his heart twist in his chest, her voice barely passing her lips,

“I don’t even care about any of this anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice hoarse and cracked. She swallowed, the words coming out in a pained, broken rush. 

“I don’t care about me, I just… I don’t want you to go to jail, Rafe. I don’t want you to pay for something I… I know you didn’t do.”

Rafe’s heart ached at her words. She was thinking about him- about his future- when she should have been able to focus on her own, her own healing. It wasn’t fair. But that was who she was: selfless, through all the years he’d known her, her loyalty for their friendship never wavered, and if it did it was his fault. He gently took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly and he met her gaze, his expression soft but resolute.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low but clear. “This isn’t your fault, none of this is your fault-”

Yes it is

Her eyes welled with more tears, and she shook her head, feeling lost in the depth of her emotions,

“But I’m the one who-”

“-No” 

He interrupted gently, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “It’s not your fault, and I’m not going anywhere okay? You did a great job in there, such a good job angel.”

She let out a shaky breath, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. But her gaze softened slightly as she looked at him, the boy sending her a comforting smile. Rafe didn’t try to say anything more. He just stayed there, leaning against the wall beside her, 

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the moment, and Rafe was the first to rise, offering his hand to her, Y/N hesitated for a second but took it, letting him help her to her feet. Her shoulders were slumped, her expression drained, and he could tell she’d had enough. He slowly raised his hand and wiped his thumb against the skin on her cheek, her eyes fluttering closed at the touch. He carefully rubbed off the black smudges on her skin and took the blazer from her hands, holding it out for her to put on. She slipped her arms into the material, Rafe smoothing it out on her shoulders before she tuned to face him, eyes meeting his. She licked her lips slightly as she paused.

Tell him

“Rafe I-”

“You kids ready?”

Her head turned towards the voice, Shoupe standing there looking back at them, hands on his hips. She let out a breath as she gave him a small nod, Rafe’s hand giving hers a firm squeeze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The courtroom was tense, every eye focused on the exchange between the defense and prosecution. Cooper’s lawyer stood at his table, flipping through a file with a grim expression. Hale, on the other side, was calm but visibly firm, her eyes locked on Dune, she was getting ready for a showdown, and both of them knew it from the way he was hastily flickering through his papers. Dune stood up, his voice clear as he addressed the judge.

“Your Honor, we’ve seen the rape kit evidence presented, but it’s crucial to point out that it’s inconclusive. There are no definitive signs of trauma that directly link my client to any kind of assault. The defendant,” he glanced at Y/N, “was heavily intoxicated that night, and I would argue that her memory of events is unreliable.”

Hale’s eyes narrowed, her voice rising slightly as she stood to respond to the man's statement.

“Objection, Your Honor,” 

She didn’t wait for the judge to respond, instead taking a step forward. 

“The defense is attempting to discredit the evidence without offering any substantive counterarguments. The rape kit- though it may not provide a perfect picture- does show evidence of physical harm consistent with sexual assault, and the presence of trauma in her nasal cavity and forehead which is not something that can be easily dismissed.”

Dune snapped his head toward Hale.

“Your Honor, this is a speculative statement,” he said sharply, his voice rising in frustration. “We are talking about a piece of evidence that- at best- only suggests a mild injury. The victim was intoxicated, and her memory is so compromised that she cannot even accurately describe the events leading up to what happened. I challenge the prosecution to explain why this should be considered definitive proof of an assault!”

The tension in the room was palpable. The judge, who had been quietly listening, gave an almost imperceptible sigh, then raised his gavel, cutting off the lawyer's angry rambling.

“Order!” The judge’s voice rang out,

“Mr. Dune, you will refrain from speaking over opposing counsel. We will proceed with the evidence, and I expect you to stick to the facts.”

The room fell silent. Y/N’s breath hitched, her hand gripping Rafe’s before pulling away as she notices Cooper’s harsh glare at her.  Hale’s tone remained calm but sharp as she turned to the judge. 

“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, I’d like to clarify the importance of this evidence. The rape kit may not be a perfect diagnosis, but it is highly suggestive of the victim’s physical condition at the time of the assault. And contrary to the defense’s argument, that is something we cannot overlook.”

Mr. Dune’s voice snapped back.

“The kit also fails to find any traces of my client’s DNA, Your Honor. In fact, the absence of such evidence only strengthens our case. It suggests that whatever happened between Ms. Y/N and my client was nothing more than a misunderstanding, possibly fueled by intoxication and poor judgment.”

The man’s words seemed to clearly frustrate the woman as she stood up straighter, her eyes never leaving the defense attorney as she leaned in, her voice piercing. 

“Your Honor, Mr. Dune is conveniently ignoring the fact that the victim was unconscious for a period of time and unable to resist. She was completely vulnerable to whatever actions Mr. Cooper chose to take. The lack of DNA evidence does not disprove anything. In fact, it could indicate that Cooper was being careful, possibly because he knew what he was doing was wrong-”

The room fell into a stunned silence, the weight of Hale’s words hanging heavily in the air but Dune, clearly taken aback by the force of Hale’s argument, wasn’t backing down. 

“-objection, Your Honor,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s pure speculation. Just because something is ‘suggestive’ doesn’t make it fact. We cannot convict a man on ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybe’s-’”

At this, the judge slammed his gavel down, his voice booming.

“Enough!” 

The room instantly quieted. “This is a courtroom, not a battle of egos. Respect the process and refrain from making assumptions.”

With a final, lingering glare at Dune, the judge turned his attention back to the court.

The tension simmered as the argument subsided, and both lawyers reluctantly returned to their seats. But the impact of their verbal clash had set the courtroom on edge. Y/N, looked at Rafe, who gave her a reassuring nod. 

After the outburst the courtroom gradually settled into a thick, suffocating silence. Y/N and Rafe shifted their seats, as well as Cooper who was now significantly more on edge then when the trial began. She sat stiffly, gripping the edge of the table as if it could anchor her in place. Rafe watched her carefully as Hale, composed but tense, sifted through her notes with a sharp glance toward the defence table. Dune rose, straightening his tie with deliberate ease.  

“Your Honour,” he began, his voice smooth, almost oily, “the defence would like to introduce a recently obtained piece of evidence, crucial to understanding the nature of the relationship between Ms. Y/L/N and my client.”  

Hale’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing.  

What?

What?

“Objection, Your Honour! This evidence was not submitted during discovery. The prosecution was given no notice of this.”  

The judge’s eyes sharpened. “Approach the bench.”  

Both lawyers strode forward, their voices low but charged with tension. Dunne leaned in, explaining that the video had only recently surfaced and was essential for the jury’s understanding. Hale’s rebuttal was swift and fierce, challenging its credibility and timing but the judge, after a brief pause, sighed out, 

“Proceed, Mr. Dune.”  

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as he turned smoothly back to the courtroom, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d direct your attention to the screen.”  

The grainy footage began to play on the small screen. The image jerked as if filmed on a shaky phone, the party’s noise buzzed faintly in the background. Y/N appeared on the screen, laughing in her matching costume beside Cooper. His hand rested casually on her waist. She didn’t pull away, leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder.

A ripple of whispers spread through the gallery like a slow-burning fuse.  

Y/N’s stomach dropped. 

No, no, no, no-

The air around her thickened as if the walls were closing in. The video felt like a cold hand pressing against her throat, squeezing, she tightened her grip on the table, her knuckles pale as she felt everyone’s eyes on her.  

Dune’s voice rang out, slicing through the murmurs.  

“I ask the jury to take a close look. This is not a girl in distress, this is very clearly not fear, Ms. Y/L/N chose to spend time with my client and from their body language it is apparent they enjoyed each other's company. They wore coordinated costumes, as far as I am aware you don’t do that with someone you don’t like. This isn’t coercion- this is consent.”  

The murmurs swelled, small gasps punctuating the air.  

“That’s not how it was,” Y/N whispered under her breath, barely audible as she shook her head turning to Rafe, “this was- this was before it happened.”  

Rafe leaned in slightly, voice low and steady, “They’re twisting it,” he murmured in her ear “don’t let them get in your head.”  

Across the room, Hale spoke out abruptly, “Objection, Your Honour! This footage lacks context and is intentionally prejudicial.”  

Dunne spread his hands in mock innocence as he turned to the lawyer, a smug expression now plastered onto his face, “Context? The footage speaks for itself, Ms. Hale.”  

The judge’s expression darkened, but he waved a dismissive hand, turning to Cooper’s lawyer, “Overruled Ms. Hale. Continue.”  

Dunne, a thin smirk tugging at his mouth, turned back to Y/N as he took a few steps towards the table where she was sat with Rafe.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he said, voice smooth but coiled with intent, “you willingly left the party and went upstairs with my client, didn’t you?”  

Y/N swallowed hard, her voice barely steady as she shook her head at him, “I was drunk… I thought he was helping me.”  

“But you did leave with him,” Dunne pressed, stepping forward once more, “you didn’t call for help when he led you up the stairs, you didn’t scream. Isn’t that true?”  

Stop Stop Sto-

Rafe’s jaw was clenched as he felt the girls panic next to him, gruffly speaking out, 

“She’s just told yo-”

“I’m not speaking to you Mr Cameron.” 

Dune shot back coldly as he ignored the boy, not even bothering to look at him as he spoke. Rafe’s brows drew down into an immediate frown, his mouth opening again to speak out but was cut off by Hale’s voice.

“Objection! Badgering the witness!”  

The judge didn’t blink as he leant forward in his seat, clearly interested in the unraveling scene,  

“Overruled. Proceed.”  

Dune’s grin tightened as he turned back to the girl, hand gesturing out to her and then Cooper as he spoke,

“And these matching costumes- whose idea were they? Yours, or my client’s?”  

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind scrambled as she struggled to respond, “It—it wasn’t like that,” she stammered. Dunne’s tone sharpened, slicing through the still air.  

“Answer the question.” 

“Watch your tone man.” 

Rafe barked out next to the girl standing up protectively, when he noticed her eyes had glossed over with tears again. The courtroom felt as though it might snap from the tension, everyone in the room eagerly awaiting what would happen next. Everyone had been surprised that Rafe had managed to keep his calm for so long, but his composure was slowly crumbling. Jurors exchanged uneasy glances as the boy stood, angrily staring up at Dune. Hale had shot him a warning look causing this to let out a frustrated huff and sit back down. Y/N’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Across the room, she could feel Cooper’s smirk like a knife in her skin. Dune leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a condescending murmur,

“Come on, Ms. Y/L/N, let’s not dance around this. You weren’t exactly pushing him away, were you?”

Is he allowed to do this?

Y/N’s eyes snapped up, locking onto his. Her grip on the edge of the table tightened as her voice trembled but sharpened at the end.

“That’s not true.” 

“Not true?”

Dunne’s smirk didn’t falter, as he paced slowly, making a show of thinking, “You willingly followed him upstairs and you kissed him back. So tell me, Ms. Y/L/N- how exactly is that not true?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears as she hissed, louder now, “I told him to stop”

Dunne didn’t back down.

“Oh? Did you? Or is that just what you’re telling yourself now to make sense of your regret?”

When I fucking get my hands on you you smug piece of-

The words sliced through the air and Y/N’s face flushed hot. She leaned forward slightly, her voice cracking under the strain, “I said stop. I fought him because he wouldn't do so.”

Dunne’s smirk widened, smug and venomous as he pushed the conversation further,

“Really? Because it seems to me, Ms. Y/L/N, that you only changed your mind after your boyfriend showed up.”

Something inside Y/N snapped at the man’s words and found herself shouting out angrily, her voice echoing through the courtroom.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

A shocked murmur rippled through the gallery at her reaction, many members of the jury raising their brows, eyes darting down to their notes, pencils scribbling against the paper. Dune straightened, unfazed but clearly pleased. 

“Oh, struck a nerve, have I? My mistake. Ex-boyfriend then?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she responded, “That doesn’t change what happened.”

Dunne’s tone turned icy, “Doesn’t it? Sounds like a lovers’ quarrel spiraled out of control-”

“Objection!” Hale’s voice shot through the air. “He is very clearly badgering the witness!” The judge raised a hand to silence her but before he could speak, Y/N cut through the noise, trembling with fury.

“You’re twisting everything.”

She spoke out fury evident in her tone, her voice shaking but loud.

“You’re a liar- just like him!” 

Y/N’s chest heaved, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Dune only smirked, adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. The judge leaned forward,  

“Mr. Dune, that is enough”

Dune turned back to Y/N, his tone smooth and controlled, “Of course, Your Honor.”

But the damage was done, the girl’s outburst hung in the air, and the jury couldn’t unhear the crack in her composure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Every pair of eyes is glued to the jury foreman, waiting for the decision that will reverberate through this entire room. Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her throat, a frantic pulse that’s almost too loud, drowning out everything else. Rafe sits beside her, his presence solid and unwavering but she can feel the tension radiating from him, the barely-contained fury in every muscle of his body. His jaw is tight, the tendons in his neck straining as if he’s holding onto something just barely within his control. His hand is close- so close- that if she reaches out, just a little, her fingers might brush against his skin again. She couldn’t help herself- she needed to ask, needed to hear something from him, even if it was just a faint whisper in the chaos of everyone else’s conversations in the court, 

"Do you think they’ll believe us?" 

Her voice trembled slightly, barely audible above the stillness of the room, her eyes searching his face for any sign of reassurance. Rafe didn’t look at her at first, his gaze fixed on the jury foreman as he shifted, preparing to speak. His fingers twitched, his hand inching closer to hers, it wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to know he’s registered her words.

"They can’t ignore what they saw." 

He said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions surrounding him. Y/N’s chest constricted, her breath shaky as the words lingered between them. She wanted to believe him. She needed to. But doubt still gnawed at her, a silent whisper in the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite shake.

"What if they don’t?" 

The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it, her voice a plea for comfort. Rafe finally turned his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment but the look in his gaze wasn’t filled with certainty. He leaned in just slightly, his voice low so only she could hear.

"Then we’ll find another way alright?"

For a moment, everything else in the room faded into the background. The chaos, the noise, the tension- all of it seemed to dissolve in the weight of his words. As the room fell silent again, the tension thickening, they both held onto that promise, like a quiet understanding between them. The foreman stood, the chair scraping against the cold floor like a whisper from the depths of hell. She catches his eye, and he sent her a small smile, and for a moment she feels relieved at his warmth. 

He clears his throat, the noise sharp in the otherwise still room. 

"We, the jury, find the defendant, Cooper Miller, not guilty on all charges."

Her vision blurs for a moment, everything spinning. 

-what?

Fuck

The room fractures, its very foundation shattering under the strain of the verdict. On Cooper’s side, relief ripples through the crowd- murmured sighs, quiet clapping, the soft rustling of people shifting in their seats. Their smugness is palpable, every movement a reminder of the victory they’ve claimed.

The room fractures, its very foundation shattering under the strain of the verdict. On Cooper’s side, relief ripples through the crowd- murmured sighs, clapping, the soft rustling of people shifting in their seats. Their smugness is palpable, every movement a reminder of the victory they’ve claimed. Y/N can practically feel the weight of their self-satisfaction pressing down on her, suffocating her.

However behind her, disbelief spreads like wildfire through the crowd. Gasps cut through the air, followed by angry murmurs and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor at the back of the court room as people began to rise, fists clenched in protest. A woman near the back of the room shouts, her voice raw with fury.

"This is a joke!"

Her words hang in the air, poisonous, cutting through the tension like a knife. Yet this time Y/n couldn’t bring herself to turn around and see who it was. It’s like a spark in a haystack, and the fire quickly spreads. Another voice, joins in, rising from angry protests,

"You can’t just let him walk free, he’s a fucking criminal!"

She could tell whose voice it was, the blonde Pogue boy’s tone was infuriated as Kiara had to pull him back from one of the Kooks’ on the other side who was now squaring up to him. The room erupts, people are on their feet, shouting, arguing, gesturing wildly. The anger is palpable, a volatile mix of disbelief and outrage. The once orderly silence of the courtroom now a chaotic, swirling mess of voices, each more desperate than the last.

"ORDER! Order in this courtroom!"

But the noise only grows louder. A few people in the gallery shout even louder, their voices rising against the judge’s command.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

The room falls into stunned silence, but the tension lingers in the air, thick and heavy. 

Y/N’s chest tightens as though someone’s wrapped a vice around her ribs. It feels like she can’t breathe, as though the space between them is closing in, suffocating her. She forces her gaze back to Rafe, her heart aching as she tries to gauge what he’s feeling. But his expression is unreadable- his face set like stone, his jaw clenched tight, every muscle in his body drawn taut with the weight of everything hanging in the balance.

She can feel the raw, seething anger radiating off him. It pulses in the air, but what terrifies her most is how controlled he is. How silent. He’s standing tall, but every inch of him is coiled, ready to snap. 

Her eyes flicker around and find Cooper’s across the courtroom. His smirk is slow and deliberate- an unsettling mix of arrogance and triumph. He adjusts his cufflinks, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on her. There’s a challenge there, an almost cruel satisfaction in the way he watches her. Y/N’s heart hammers in her chest, but she doesn’t break eye contact. She can’t. The way he’s looking at her- like he’s waiting for her to crumble, to fall apart in front of him- it stirs something in her. 

Anger? 

Fear? 

She isn’t sure. All she knows is that she won’t give him the satisfaction.

Rafe’s gaze flickers toward her for a split second, the smallest movement. There’s something in his eyes that softens, just for a moment, before the storm picks up again. He shifts his position, edging closer, his body angling toward hers subconsciously. The small, tender gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by her and it makes the ache in her chest worse. Before she can process the moment, the judge’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife,

"Now, regarding the matter of aggravated assault- Mr. Cameron, stand."

Y/N watches as Rafe stands, every line of his body taut with tension. His posture is so stiff, his shoulders squared, she knows him well enough to see that he’s holding it together by a thread. His eyes stay forward, focused, but there’s an undercurrent of something raw, beneath the calm surface.

Her throat tightens as she watches him, and for the briefest of moments, she feels an overwhelming urge to reach out- to grab his hand, to make sure he knows she’s there, that she’s not going anywhere. But the space between them is too vast, too fragile.

This is my fault 

"Given the severity of the assault and the circumstances, this court sentences you to two years of probation, mandatory anger management classes, and community service. Any violation will result in immediate incarceration. Do you understand?"

Rafe doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t blink. He simply answers, his voice steady, devoid of any emotion.

"I understand."

Y/N swallows hard. It’s not a prison. It’s not the worst-case scenario. But it feels like a punishment all the same. His voice, though calm, rings in her ears. She doesn’t know if she can stand it- he’s been given a sentence that will follow him everywhere, haunting him like a shadow. But he doesn't react, doesn't show the crack in his armour. 

Not even a flicker of emotion.

Then, she feels it. A shift. Cooper leans back in his seat, that smug look still on his face, but now his gaze turns toward Rafe. It’s a brief look, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough. Rafe’s eyes snap to him in return, the moment stretching like a taut wire ready to snap. Cooper’s smirk widens, and Y/N feels her heart rate pick up, there’s something in the way Cooper looks at Rafe- a silent dare, a challenge. 

A threat, maybe.

She can feel the tension crackling between them, Cooper’s lips curl into a mocking smile, but Rafe, he doesn’t flinch. His expression is harder now, something fierce burning behind his eyes. He stares back at Cooper, daring him to make the next move, daring him to cross that invisible line that’s drawn between them.

"Court is adjourned."

The gavel slams down, but the noise is almost drowned out by the pounding of Y/N’s heart.

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taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616 @slut-4-gojo @louxmcl @stelleduarte @p0gue420 @maybanksgirl69 @godharryz

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[miley1442111]

reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.

warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

2k+ words

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When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek. 

When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything. 

When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces. 

When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship. 

When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance. 

He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again. 

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Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?

Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.

“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field. 

“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. 

“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Just an old friend, thanks!” 

And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand. 

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“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie. 

“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you. 

“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug. 

“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”

“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”

Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid. 

Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving. 

“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked. 

“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled. 

“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.

“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’

Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then. 

“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”

That satisfied them, and they stopped asking. 

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The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.

When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’

God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan. 

Step One: Start dating Rafe

Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher! 

Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning. 

Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family. 

Step Five: Die happy. 

Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13. 

You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.

“Bun! You’re back!”

Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.

“Hey Topper,” you smiled. 

“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”

“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?

“Rafe is high?”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”

“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs. 

“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated. 

“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table. 

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group. 

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke. 

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes. 

The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues. 

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“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you. 

Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind. 

“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else. 

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.” 

His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good. 

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him. 

The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.

“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”

“Until what?” Ryan chuckled. 

Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by. 

Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again. 

People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[astralis-ortus]

i'll keep you in a photograph

✱ crush!sm x fem!reader

— it's just a silly little crush.

w.count → 2.5k genre → romance warning → minor cussing, appearances by other 4/8 skz and itzy's ryujin, menace lee know in action, also no use of y/n whatsoever at all a.n → time to celebrate because we're finally debuting a seungmin fic!🎊 i wasn't even planning for the fic to be this long, but i guess it is what it is, lol. also! do let me know if you would like a part 2 to this fic! ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

you've never been much of a sports fan in the first place.

the burning ambition, loud cheers, and massive crowds—it's just simply not your thing. really, you have nothing against the people who loves sports, but if given the choice between a vip ticket to the next biggest sports match and a week-long, peaceful getaway at the countryside,

you would absolutely chose the latter in a heartbeat.

hence,

with that image of you in mind,

imagine the surprise amongst your group of friends when you told them that in your right mind, with zero drops of alcohol flowing in your blood, you had stepped in to be one of the volunteer game photographer for your campus' next baseball game.

"i don't believe you," felix shook his head, golden locks swaying in unison, "what do you mean you just want to? you don't even like going to popular cafes—how are you supposed to deal with a baseball crowd? do you even know how massive that game would be?"

"pretty sure someone forced her," ryujin sighed, lines between her eyebrows still clearly visible beneath the stray strands of hair as she faced hyunjin on her right, "told you those people at the photography club seemed suspicious. why didn't you listen and joined with her? they won't be able to take advantage of her like this if you're there!"

"guys—"

"why is it my fault?" hyunjin protested, quickly pointing his manicured nails in your direction, "she's the one who signed up to the club without any of us knowing! it's not like i didn't want to join the club too—they already closed the form before i could try signing up!"

"hey—"

"you could've gone earlier!"

"how am i supposed to know?"

"you could've—"

"guys!"

the bickering between the two immediately ceased as the three pair of eyes now locked in your direction, visibly surprised at the tone of your voice. to be fair, you do understand why your friends are acting the way they are, but god, they're starting to sound more like a couple of overprotective parent and a childish sibling at this point.

"no one forced me, i promise," you sighed, quietly fidgeting with your fingers under the cafeteria table. you do admit it's far too weird for you to be doing all this, but you have your reason. "i'll be fine, you don't have to worry about me too much. i'll be okay."

"besides," you quickly continued upon noticing the persisting worry in your friends' eyes, "it's about time i start doing new stuff like this. i don't want to feel like i'm wasting my last years as a student and graduate with regret. okay?"

only then does your friends' eyes seem to soften, worry now replaced by relief.

"if you say so," felix became the first one to smile, hand gently patting your shoulder, "but don't go overboard with it, okay? try to go to the practice sessions first so you could gauge the situation for game day."

"felix's right," both hyunjin and ryujin added at the same time, quickly glaring at each other before focusing back at you.

"i can go with you to the practices," ryujin volunteered, frown lines already replaced with a beaming smile, "i happen to know one of the assistant coach, he'll let us watch if i ask him!"

"pretty sure you just want to see that legendary pitcher—ow!" hyunjin quickly rubbed out the sting from ryujin's slap on his shoulder, and between her glare, hyunjin's protest, and felix's laugh,

no one seemed to notice the faint shade of blush, slowly creeping on your cheeks.

the fresh spring air of seoul eagerly fills your lungs—quietly reminding you of a distant memory when life was nothing more than running around the field of your grandparents' countryside home. you might be a quiet kid, but that never stopped you from exploring every nook and cranny you could find around the vicinity of the well-maintained traditional house.

today, however,

you're planning on making a new memory for yourself.

as it turns out, ryujin does actually know the assistant coach for the campus' baseball team. chris, as he introduced himself, is also a personal trainer at the gym ryujin frequents, explaining the unexpected connection—much to hyunjin's dismay, though, who was really looking forward for a new reason to tease ryujin. both you and felix could only shook your heads, each wondering when (or if) the two will ever stop bickering with each other.

the first few practice session you attended with ryujin was a lot more fun than you had expected it to be. maybe it was ryujin's friendliness that helped lowered the players' guards down around the new faces watching, but everyone seemed very welcoming to the addition of you and your camera around the perimeters of the field.

you, on the other hand, also got to learn about where and when to snap the best pictures, along with the terms to help you understand better about whatever is going on in the field during the game. had felix not popped the idea to watch these practice sessions, you probably won't be able to do your best for the upcoming game day, and you definitely will need to treat your friends to some chicken and beer later as a thank you.

for today's practice round, however,

you're left all alone.

you don't blame ryujin—she has her own class related stuff to tend to, and besides, her coming with you for the first few times were already more than enough. you've grown far more comfortable being around the considerably sized crowd and you know your ways around the place should you need some time away, but all in all, you know you're doing a lot better now, thanks to ryujin's help.

"oh, you're here!" chris were the first one to spot you, waving with his dimpled smile on display, "ryujin told me you'd be on your own today. will you be okay?"

"of course," you mirrored the older's smile, finally standing next to the casually dressed assistant coach at the edge of the field, "she's too worried, but i'll be fine. it's not like i'm the one running around, hitting the balls anyway."

chris cracked a laugh at your joke, relieved that you don't seem to be as tense as you were when he first met you. "well that's great, then," he hummed in content, smiling in your direction, "feel free to walk around the usual space, today's practice won't be as hard the ones before so you should be able to get better shots."

and surely, you did.

like the usual round, chris had to monitor the practice and hence, you're left to explore the media pit on your own. you greeted some of the players you've gotten acquainted with while they wait for their turn, and you also managed to snap some new shots to submit to the campus website and journalist club. it might be a volunteer event, but hey, you have to be strategic with your portfolio, right?

"at this rate, your crush might as well be broadcasted from the speakers, you know."

the sudden voice coming from your left nearly made you drop your camera.

"what crush?" you throw a protest—albeit sounding more like a squeak—at minho, the other assistant coach you've gotten acquainted with through your time at the field. "i'm just doing my job here," you continued, shaking your head before again raising your camera,

while also attempting to mask the rising tempo of your heartbeat.

"you can't fool me like you fool the others," minho chuckled, lips tugged into a lopsided smile while he crossed his arms in amusement, "i can clearly see where your lenses are pointed, so there's really no use in lying to me."

crap.

"you're just saying nonsense to bother me," you huffed, trying to keep your cool behind the camera while attempting your best to hide the flush on your face from minho. even if you're about to get your cover blown, you'd rather not get it done by the menace that minho is.

sure, it hasn't been long since you've been introduced to minho, but for reasons only god and minho himself knows, the guy seems to just weirdly pick on you out of the blue and as it turns out, he's quite a psychic too.

"well then if that's not the case," minho shrugged, quietly extending a palm at you, "can i see the pictures you've taken today?"

"no!"

and only after you saw the maniacal smirk plastered across minho's face as you clutched the camera close to your heart that your realized,

your cover is blown.

[ weeks ago ]

honestly, you don't think you'll be joining any clubs this year.

it's not that you don't want to—you actually do, considering you're the only one of your quartet who still hasn't really decided on anything to do outside of your classes, but nothing seems to be piquing your interest just yet.

staring down at your phone, you're trying to find your last resort—the photography club. to be fair, you're not a major photography geek in the first place. yes, you do like taking pictures and you do go out of your way to learn the basics of photography, but that's about it. despite everyone telling you that you're good at it, you've never viewed photography as something more than just a hobby.

"it should be—ow!"

the sudden force against your shoulder sent your phone straight to the hard surface of your campus building's floor, inviting several gasps to be heard between the decorated walls—including one of your own.

"shit—i'm really sorry, are you okay?"

before you could even react, a hand had reached for your phone and quickly dusted the screen off before offering the device back to you. "i'm really sorry about this, i'm in a bit of a hurry and i wasn't looking. are you okay? is your shoulder alright?"

in all honesty? no, you're not okay.

"yeah, it's okay. i'm at fault too," you grimaced, noting the dull ache on your shoulder while reluctantly grabbing your phone, hoping for the safety of your screen, "i'm so—"

any remaining air left in your lungs seemed to get caught in your throat as soon as your eyes found the pair staring right at yours, catching you off guard. even under the navy ballcap he's wearing, the depth of his eyes had successfully lured the remaining pieces of rationale beyond you.

"look," he continued, snapping you out of your trance, "i'm in a hurry right now, but if by any chance i accidentally broke your phone, you can come find me today at the baseball field at 5pm and i'll take full responsibility. sounds good?"

your head had nodded even before you could even entirely process what just happened to you—were you just bewitched by a guy in a navy ballcap?

"alright, good," the figure finally broke out a smile, already taking his steps to the direction opposite of yours, "thank you! i appreciate it!"

and just as you realized you haven't gotten the mysterious guy's name, you caught a glimpse of the small embroidered name at the back of his jacket before he disappeared at the end of the hallway.

kim seungmin.

[ present day ]

you're so going to kill minho.

after the stunt he pulled off earlier, it didn't take you a second to take off from his crime scene, tightly holding your pandora's box of a camera while you try and find a spot to hide from minho—but most importantly, from seungmin.

you know seungmin probably won't realize that you were gone, but the horror that minho might've spoiled your little secret to seungmin himself made you a little bit nauseous.

in your defense, you weren't expecting anything to happen between you and seungmin. sure, you joined the photography club solely because you've seen their coverage during previous baseball season and were hoping you could be one of the people to document seungmin's journey as a u-league player, but that's it.

it was just a silly little crush—nothing more.

"uh, hey."

the speed it took you to look at the figure standing across nearly got you to pull a muscle—and if it wasn't enough, the fact that seungmin is indeed the owner of the voice calling out to you were ready to be the cherry on top.

"minho hyung told me to give this to you as an apology," he offered a can of coffee, smiling at you depite being visibly unsure about what he's currently doing. "i thought he should've gave this to you himself but, you know, minho hyung is… yeah, he can be kind of weird."

you couldn't help but laugh at seungmin's comment, accepting the surprisingly warm can as you shrugged, "he is weird. thank you, though, for giving me this in his stead. you didn't have to."

"don't mention it," seungmin smiled—and again, your heart skipped a beat. "i'm on my way too, anyway. it's cool."

"on your way?" you questioned, words already rolling off your lips even before you could process your own thoughts. to be fair, the spot you ran away to were exactly the opposite of the baseball fields' exit gate—which doesn't make sense, if seungmin were on his way out.

"sorry—i didn't mean to pry," you quickly backtracked before seungmin could answer, already preparing to leave the shaded bench you've been staying at for the past 40 minutes or so. "i think i better leave. thank you again for—"

"wait!"

your eyes doubled in size when seungmin stepped in your way, preventing you from moving further. it seemed like he's also surprised at himself, judging from the way his eyes had mirrored yours.

"i, uh," clearing his throat, you noticed the hesitance in his face before seungmin then pointed at the phone in your hand, "is your phone working just fine? nothing broke?"

…oh.

oh?

"you… remembered?" you took a step back, nearly tumbling back at the bench had seungmin not grabbed your wrist, equally as surprised as you are. only after you convinced him that you're okay is when seungmin willingly dropped his hold on your arm.

"well, of course i remembered," seungmin nervously chuckled, subconsciously rubbing his nape, "i was the one who sent your phone flying, so… i feel responsible. i mean i was glad you didn't came that day since it meant your phone was okay and i've actually been meaning to ask since i realized it was you who came to take our pictures, but…"

you quietly anticipated between the pause, granting seungmin the time to explain as he shrugged and continued,

"i kind of feel like a creep if you didn't remember me since i realized i didn't actually give you my name that day."

so he did realize…?

frankly, it felt like your brain is short circuiting—so seungmin remembers you? why? was he just curious about your phone? was he waiting for you to come? why would he feel like a creep? what is happening right now?

"and since i didn't get to give you my name that day," seungmin continued, eyes reflecting a newfound determination amidst the persisting worry,

"can i get your number this time?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

You’re like the best writer of smut here ☺️☺️☺️

Please I’m begging 90s James (can be any era) taking reader’s virginity? But he didn’t know she’s innocent and she thinks after all the groupies he fucked he’d be disappointed in her? But he’s actually super turned on, cause no one touched her and now he gets to ruin her??? So I guess corruption kink, purity kink, dirty talk, size kink (he’s big, we all know that)???

A/n: I've had this conversation with a friend a few times, my idea is that -going off of the picture of James on the record, we all know the one- he's roughly 5-7 inches (8 being a generous amount) because he's holding himself in his hand and there's still some poking out, plus he looks flaccid SO by my calculations I've come up with said lengths, let me know if you want to hear more of my thoughts on sixty year old mens dicks🫠

Warnings: Smut, size kink, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), idk about corruption and purity kinks but I tried lol, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You straddled his lap, arms around his neck with your fingers laced in his hair. James's arms were around you, holding you close while he attacked your lips with your own, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You'd been dating for two months, getting closer to three, and you still hadn't told him he would be your first. You'd gone on a few dates, some highschool romances but those didn't mean anything really.

You were quiet and kept to yourself, you didn't go out, you didn't get dates, how you managed to get him was beyond you but here you were, in his bed, in his lap, in his arms with his hard on pressed firmly against your ass.

Honestly, you didn't think you'd make it this far with him. James was a rocker, the lead singer of a big band, he'd been with so many women it was hard to believe that he went cold turkey just because he met you.

"Sweetheart," he spoke, getting your attention, "what's wrong?" He asked, bringing a hand up to your face and thumbing your cheek in a soothing motion.

"What's wrong..?" You repeated softly, letting him move your face further away so he could look at you. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You were thinking about something." He said with a warm smile. "You stopped kissing me."

You gave a small nod, understanding why he was stopping now. "Right, sorry." You leaned closer to kiss him again but you only got a quick peck before he pushed you away again.

"What were you thinking about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes flicking down to your red lips.

"Nothing." You assured.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nothing, tell me." He said sternly, looking you in the eye. You chewed your cheek, he knew just what eyes to give to make your knees weak.

"I'm sorry." You finally said. "I know you're used to a lot of women, you're used to groupies, and I'm not them and I don't think it'll be good enough but I want to try, I just literally don't know how..?" You explained.

James blinked at you, expression blank. "Sweetheart, I mean this politely, what the fuck do you mean?" He couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "Are-are you saying you're scared you're not good enough at sex for me?"

Your mouth opened before the words came out. "Well, yeah but that's not exactly what I meant." You mumbled. "I mean... I-I might be lacking in the, um, sex...ual... intimacy? With, you know... others?"

James inhaled deeply, he gave a nod and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you trying -and failing miserably, might I add- that you're a virgin?" You huffed at his comment but you had to nod.

"Yes." You mumbled, fingers curling in his hair to scratch his scalp. He gave a small hum and pulled away from you again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he did.

"Right, and I'd be upset because?" You thought for a while but whatever train of thought you were on was cutoff when you felt him twitching against your ass. "Sweetheart, we can take it slow, you just gotta talk to me."

You inhaled deeply, nodding along as he spoke. "Jamie," you started, "I-I want you to take me... my virginity..." Your voice fell to a mumble, embarrassed at actually saying it out loud, so bluntly as well. Straight to his face.

James smiled up at you. "Alright then." He said, hand going to undo your shorts.

Your face flushed as he did so. "What-what are you doing?" You asked, slight panic slipping into your voice.

"Don't worry, I told you we can take it slow." He assured, closing the gap between you for a moment as he helped you out of your shorts. "But that means I have to get you ready for me, sweetheart, it's not gonna be easy fitting me into you if you're not ready." While it made sense you didn't want to think too much about it.

James continued to pepper your face with kisses as he pushed your panties to the side. He ran a finger through your folds, giving a small hum of approval at how wet you were already. He pushed a finger into you, enjoying the soft gasp that left you when he did.

"Tell me, sweetheart, and be honest." He spoke. "You have touched yourself before, haven't you?" He asked, combing his free hand through your hair.

You hesitated before answering, cheeks already dusted a candy red colour. "Um, I-I have toys..." You mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes as you said it.

James's smile widened. "You do, do you?" He asked. "And when you use them, you think of me don't you?" He questioned further, started to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your breaths grew heavy, eyelids fluttering as his finger moved. "I think of you, Jamie." You said, but it wasn't enough, you were already going this far, you had more to get off your chest. "I-I think of you on top of me, I think of the faces you make and I think of what you sound like... I think of you naked, I think of-of what you'd look like with my-my hand around you... your cock... I think about what it-it looks like when you cum." Once you started you couldn't stop, all the filthy things you'd been thinking about coming out like dirty commandments.

James listened in slight shock, he hadn't known you to be so needy. "Filthy slut." He said with a smile, adding a second digit. "Keep talking." He urged. "I want to hear what else you think of when you're getting yourself off."

The addition of another finger made you whine but he slowed down to let you get used to the stretch. You swallowed thickly and nodded, mentally preparing yourself to continue.

You closed your eyes, letting his fingers resume the same motion, in and out, slow and curling to find what made you tick. "I think ah-about riding you, my-my hands on your chest while you tell me wh-ah- what to do, how-how good I'm doing."

"What kind of toys do you have, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, he wasn't even supposed to know you touched yourself, now he was supposed to know what you're using to do it with? "C'mon, I won't judge." He said, kissing the tip of your nose as his fingers curled in you, making your eyes roll and he knew to hit that spot again.

"They-they're vibrators."

"They?" He repeated. "As in multiple?" Your eyes widened as the realization of what you'd admitted to. "Naughty girl." He curled his fingers again, bringing you closer to your already nearing release.

James added another finger, moving his hand faster now as he scissored your hole in an attempt to prep you for his cock. "When you're alone in bed with your toys, that's how you do it, isn't it?" He asked for confirmation.

You gave it willingly, nodding your head as more moans started falling from your lips.

"You're thinking about me." He continued. "What kind of vibrators?" He asked again. "You've never had anything inside you, sweetheart, right? I'll be the first?" You nodded, his fingers making it hard to focus on anything else. He chuckled as he saw how close you were. "That's it, that's my good girl, cum on my fingers."

Your gut tightened before bursting, your eyes rolled back. Your hands resting on his shoulder clutched his shirt in your fists as you came, a string of curses leaving you.

James groaned lowly at the sight, his fingers still moving in you and letting you ride out your high on them.

As you came down from it, though, he let you melt into him, slowly and carefully shifting you to lay on your back on the mattress. Your head fell back onto his pillow, his scent filling your nose, completely taking you over.

James hovered over you a moment, propping himself between your legs and holding himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your head. "Is this what you fantasize about, sweetheart?" You could only nod and let him undress you before following shortly after.

"I'll go slow, so just relax." He said, brushing some of your hair out of your face. "And if, for any reason, you want to stop, tell me. I want to know- I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything for whatever reason, am I understood?" He asked firmly, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You nodded, staring right back at him as he used his other hand to line himself up with your cunt before pushing in. He did just what he said he would, moving slowly.

He stopped to pepper kisses all over your face and tell you how good you were doing. "That feels good, doesn't it? Feels good when I stretch you out like this." You nodded, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed out on his back.

"You-you're so big." You mumbled, looking down at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you both connected. Only, what you saw was a few more inches still needing to be pushed in.

James let out hearty laugh when he saw your eyes widen. "Only halfway, sweetheart, you'll know when I'm balls deep, don't worry."

You slowly relaxed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind full. "You're gonna tear me in two." You muttered to no one in particular, James was the only one there to hear and it made him laugh.

"Damn right I am." He agreed. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart, no ones gonna stretch you out like this, no ones gonna make you theirs." His eyes flickered over your face, taking in your expression of wide eyes and the small pout on your lips. "No one else gets to be your first."

In a quick motion he pushed the rest of himself into you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hands clawing at his back and making him groan. He looked down, grin only getting bigger as he saw the bulge he made in your stomach.

"No one else gets to do that." He purred, reaching a hand down to press on your stomach. A whine left you as he did, your legs tried to close but he was in the way. "Not so fast, sweetheart, we haven't even gotten started yet."

[swearimnevergivingup]

DUMB LOVE, I LOVE BEING STUPID - suguru x reader

synopsis: it's hard being casual with geto suguru. he feels the same way, you just don't know it yet.

content: suguru geto/reader, blowjobs, explicit smut, friends with benefits, mild(?) angst, unrequited feelings but not really ya know (1.3k words)

a/n: just two emotionally constipated fools... just TALK to each other guys i promise it won’t kill… obviously inspired by chappell roan's song. i kinda wanna make this a series and i have a part 2 drafted already but let's see how things go! this is my first time being on tumblr in like 8 years so i'm new to everything BUT i hope you, dear reader, will enjoy!! please let me know your thoughts hehe <3 (edit: part 2 here!)

something must be deeply wrong with him, he thinks, from the sheer pleasure he derives from watching a pretty thing like you get ruined by his cock. 

you’re down on your knees for him, big doe eyes staring back at him, always so eager to please. your eyes are wet with tears that are threatening to fall, mascara smudged ever so slightly. still, he watches as you take more of him into your mouth, struggling all the while, until you’ve got his full length down your throat. 

“good girl, you’re doing so good baby,” he groans. he’s got your soft hair gathered in his fist like a makeshift ponytail, guiding your head down to take him deeper. you whine a little, but eventually relax your throat to allow him to use it as he pleases. he fucks your throat like that, so warm, so tight, listening as you gag helplessly around him.

looking down at you, suguru feels like he’s tainting something pure, something gold and untouched - though with all that you’ve done together he knows that’s hardly true at all. someone like you, looking at someone like him, of all people, like he put the very stars in the sky - he thinks he doesn’t deserve it, but he takes anyway.

from his position above you, he can see the arch of your lower back and the curve of your hips as you kneel on the floor. the room is quiet, save for his stifled moans and the lewd noises coming from your mouth as you please him. it sounds sloppy and downright nasty, and it’s music to his ears. 

you pull him out after he involuntarily gives a particularly deep thrust, gasping and blinking hard. your voice is hoarse when you look up at him again, stroking and kissing the sides of cock as you pant, “does that feel good for you?”

it's a rhetorical question, really. he smiles at you, petting your hair and bending down to give you a tender kiss on your swollen lips. when his lips meet yours, you moan, leaning in for more. so fucking cute. you smell as good as you always do and taste faintly like the strawberry cocktail you had in the bar earlier. he tells you it felt good, and to keep going, so you do - obedient as always - eagerly taking him deeper in your mouth as your hands grasp at his thighs.

he knows you’re a whore for praise, that you like it when he calls you love, or baby, when he whispers to you how good you look when you’re taking his cock in your mouth. he tells you exactly that, feeling the pleasurable vibrations all around his length when you moan in response to his words.

you’re struggling less than you were a few minutes ago - but he’s big and he knows your jaw must surely ache from trying to accommodate his size. he lets you control the pace for now, giving you time to recover from before. 

you swirl your tongue across his tip, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks, concentrating your efforts on his tip. his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. your mouth feels so good, and suguru almost wonders if it’s him who should be down on his knees instead, worshipping you. 

he opens his eyes to find one of your hands in between your parted thighs, desperate to relieve some pressure, even though he just made you cum twice in a row. he should punish you for it, but god you look so hot, and he can’t exactly fault you for that. the sight of it pushes him off the edge, pleasure surging through him as he releases into your mouth. 

like a good girl, you swallow all of it. you even open your mouth and stick your tongue out to let him see, giggling as you tell him, all gone.

you might just be the death of him.

he knows you aren’t his, no, you could never be. even though you sit back and look at him with flushed cheeks and a coy smile, with something akin to adoration in your glistening eyes, he knows he could never have you. he tells himself it’ll be the last time, every single fucking time, but as much as he hates himself for it, he just can’t seem to break things off.

he’s in too deep, and he knows it full well. 

you have that kind of effect on him, making him feel things he’s never felt before. he’s found himself wishing you would stay longer, hating when you leave, but never making a move to stop you from scurrying off after your rendezvous together. he’s found himself wondering who you’ve been going on dates with for the past month, if it’s the same guy, or perhaps different guys, and if they please you better than he can. he wonders how you’re coping at your new job, if your colleagues are nice to you, and if you’re still struggling with your sleep. 

for the record, he’s self aware enough to know that it isn’t just about the sex, even though it may have started out that way. but somewhere along the way, just sex morphed into other things too, like missing you, wanting to talk to you, to laugh with you, to hold you, like he is right now as you curl up into him. it wasn’t just about the sex, even if you never stick around in his bed long enough for him to properly enjoy it anyway.

you’re probably the one thing he can’t have.

what suguru doesn’t know is that every time you gather your clothes to leave, your fingers linger for a little while longer on the door knob as you bite your lip in silent hope that he'll ask you to stay. he has no idea that you never let any other guy touch you, and that those dates are merely futile attempts at finding someone that could come close to him. your new job is going great, but you’re anxious and trying not to screw up, and you wish that maybe he could take you out for a lunch date sometimes so you get to see his face outside of the bedroom. what he doesn’t know is that all he has to do is ask, and you would be his in a heartbeat. 

you’re scared, scared of the inevitable heartbreak when he realises you’ve caught feelings and eventually cuts you off. you and him both, dancing a familiar dance, playing the same game of push and pull. it exhausts you, being around him, pretending, but you think it hurts you more to keep him away.

you know playing this dangerous game isn’t good for you, you feel the way it eats away at you when you lie awake at night wondering if the both of you could ever be something more, if he’s spending the night with someone else, or if he might be thinking of you too, and you curse yourself for allowing things to get this far. you hate to admit it, but you feel yourself wearing thinner and thinner, like a rubber band pulled taut and waiting to snap. 

you know you should end things, (try to) move on, date a nice boy who isn’t allergic to commitment, and stop having to nurse your aching heart, but you’ve never been able to say no to suguru.

no feelings attached, just sex, that’s what we both want, right?  

yeah. 

good.

he’s still idly tracing shapes on your back when you gingerly pull away from him and rise from the bed, eyes scanning across his room for your discarded clothes. you wonder if he’ll finally say something, ask you to stay, ask you to cuddle a little longer, but you know suguru, and he never does.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

The kids leave the next day, after Steve's heart has mostly reformed itself. It's still a little beat up and mangled, but it's clearly a heart again, and it barely hurts anymore.

He doesn't know how he'll ever be able to thank them.

Eddie doesn't call.

—

His house stops being empty.

Robin's over almost constantly, their hearts in each other's chests more often than not. He can tell Robin's worried about him, and he likes feeling her emotions - it tells him when she's upset, or sad, and he can respond without her having to say anything.

The rest of the kids are over almost as constantly, as though his house has just become the de facto hang out.

He minds it a lot less than he pretends to.

Erica sulks at him, and he can't figure out why until Lucas makes a comment about their heart sharing and she rolls her eyes so hard he's afraid they're going to pop out.

Steve frowns at her, hanging back after the others have gone on into the kitchen.

“That's an extra level of snide, even for you,” he says.

She gives him a look. “You want it directed at you?”

He holds up his hands. “What'd I do?”

Her look only becomes more unimpressed. “You had my brother over for your little healing pow-wow? He wasn't even part of Scoops Troop.”

Oh.

That's.

Oh.

Never in a hundred years did he think Erica Sinclair would be throwing a fit because she didn't get to be a part of their group heart sharing, but here it is.

“You want to swap?” Steve asks.

Erica scoffs at him. “I don't need your pity heart exchange.”

“It's not pity,” he protests.

This time the look practically burns through him.

“Robin and I do it all the time,” he insists. “It's easier. It means we can understand the way the other one feels without having to figure out how to say it.”

Her eyebrows raise. “And you want to know how I feel?”

Steve holds out his hand in response.

She stares at him for a long moment, then sighs in a far too long suffering manner before she takes her heart out and gives it to him. He exchanges his for hers, and -

“Is it messed up again?” Dustin demands. “Why didn't you tell me?”

He honestly isn't sure if the surge of somewhat affectionate irritation he feels is his or Erica's, and he exchanges what he suspects is a near identical look with her.

Dustin narrows his eyes at them. “What's this look you're doing, I really don't like it on both of you.”

“That's because it's bad news for you,” Erica retorts.

“We're just swapping,” Steve says.

“It's what you do when someone is a little too hard headed and out of touch with their feelings to realize how insensitive they're being.”

That is absolutely not what Steve had been going for, but Erica says it with such superiority and Dustin is looking so contemplative at it that he just sighs and goes with it.

Erica shoots him a smug little look - she knows exactly what she's doing and how he feels about it.

“Mike!” Dustin shouts. “Come here, we're swapping, so you can know that I'm right!”

Steve groans, but there's no stopping it now.

Swaps are called to settle arguments, to prove that this movie really is scary guys come on, for a dozen other reasons until Steve honestly can't be sure who has whose heart at any given moment.

He'd worry about the effects of so much heart swapping, but - the kids seem happy. Sometimes he even catches them just sitting with each other and swapping, and after everything they've lost - who is he to say what's healthy and what isn't?

Steve can't complain.

Well. He can, and he does, but he also knows this is probably the happiest he's ever been in this house, so he doesn't complain too much.

—

Eddie still doesn't call.

He doesn't answer, either, when Steve calls him. Any of the times Steve calls him.

Steve drives out there, once, stupidly. He's pretty sure he can hear Eddie's music, but the trailer’s dark, and no one answers.

Steve takes the hint after that.

He doesn't let anyone but Robin swap with him for a while, as long as he can get away with. He doesn't really have a name for what he's feeling - he doesn't want to put a name to what he's feeling - and she doesn't make him.

—

The Hopper-Byers are moving.

None of the party take it well, but it seems to hit Max the hardest.

Or at least, he assumes it does, because she's suddenly not over for a week straight, and Steve knows avoidance when he sees it.

He finds her sitting at the skate park, all alone, but she doesn't protest when he sits down next to her.

“Swap?” Steve asks softly.

Max rolls her eyes. “I'm fine.”

He gives her the most unimpressed look he can muster.

She scoffs, then gives him one right back. “Okay, so, what, you want to feel angry and miserable too?”

Steve weighs his options for a moment, considering how to respond, then decides just to go for honesty. “Yeah,” he says simply. “I'm not here just for the good stuff, Mayfield, I'm here for all of it.”

She looks at him for a long moment, her expression hard. Then she wrenches her chest open.

He pops his open, too, taking his heart out and offering it to her. Steve expects her to take it and put her own in his hand, but instead she shoves her own heart into his chest before he can so much as blink, snatching his out of his hand. He blinks at her, but - yeah, okay, fine, that works.

She is angry, and miserable. She hated Billy, and she's still sad, and El is the only one who really gets her, and she knows that's not true, and everyone leaves, and he hasn't left, and she loves and she hates and she's so tired.

Steve can't really put any of it into words, but he doesn't have to.

He just has to be there.

—

School starts, and it gets quieter. He and Dustin still have their weekly movie nights, and he plays ball with Lucas, cooks dinner with Max, but Robin's the only one over as much as she used to be.

It's - actually fine, this time. He gets a job at Family Video, and he hangs out with Robin and spends time with the kids and goes on dates, and he's still happy.

Well, except the going on dates bit. Something's missing, something obvious, but he tells himself that's fine, too.

—

Dustin starts talking about Eddie, a few months into school.

Well, he talks about Hellfire, which Steve doesn't really put together at first, but he's happy Dustin's having fun with his club.

When he mentions Eddie, Steve probes a little, asks how he joined up. Dustin lights up, talking about how Eddie looked out for them starting from day one, even if he's definitely a little scary at times, and Steve -

“Swap?” Robin asks the second she gets to his house later, like she took one look at him and knew he needed it.

They both need it, actually.

She has feelings about Vickie, and he has feelings about Eddie, and they're both complicated and messy and neither of them know what to do about it.

“Ask her out,” Steve tells her.

“She doesn't even like girls!”

“How do you know?”

“How do you know?”

And that's - point, okay, Steve has nothing to counter that. Yet. He just has to start collecting proof.

Robin feels his intentions and gives a dramatic huff, but she doesn't try to stop him.

She won't admit it, but she's grateful.

“Do you regret asking Eddie out?” she asks.

He makes a face. “I mean, I didn't ask him out so much as take him out a bunch of times, realize like halfway through it that's what I was doing, and then he ran the second I made it obvious, so… I guess I regret not actually asking him.”

She considers that. “Do you think it would have changed anything?”

“I don't know,” he admits. “Maybe I could have made it so he didn't feel like he had to run, maybe we could have still been friends? I wish I'd known what I was doing and I'd done it different, but… I think I'd regret it more if I didn't try at all.”

She drops her shoulder against his. “Of course you would. You always go for what you want, it's like you have no fear.”

He has plenty of fear - she's felt it - but not about shooting his shot. She's right; he's a man of action, and he's not sure he knows how to be anything else.

“Ugh, let's stop talking about it. I'm glad he's still a good guy and is watching out for the little shits, end of story.”

It's not the end of the story, but for now, they both let it be.

—

Dustin calls him to beg him to play in Hellfire with him, and Steve groans audibly.

“Does Eddie know you're asking me?” he asks.

Dustin scoffs. “Of course not, but I have to show up with someone on Friday.”

Steve frowns. “On Friday? That's the championship game. Lucas is playing.”

Dustin groans, and Steve makes a little bit of a face at himself when he realizes the kid sounds almost exactly like him.

“Don't remind me,” Dustin grumbles. “He's the reason we have to find someone in the first place.”

“Lucas asked you to find someone to sub in for him?”

Steve doesn't even need Dustin's heart to be able to tell the silence that follows is guilty as hell.

“Dustin,” Steve says.

“Ugh, fine! Lucas asked us to come to the stupid game. He asked us to get Eddie to move Hellfire so he wouldn't miss the last session.”

“And did you?” Steve prompts.

“Of course!” Dustin says, indignant. “Eddie was pissed. Called Lucas a traitor, said now it was our responsibility to find someone to fill in for Lucas since he ditched us.”

That - isn’t what Steve was expecting at all.

“And instead of standing up for Lucas, you're doing what Eddie says?”

“He ditched us!” Dustin insists.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Go swap with Lucas.”

Dustin makes an almost incomprehensible noise of protest.

“Swap with Lucas, and tell him what Eddie said. If you guys come to an agreement and you still need a sub, I'll think about it.”

He'd rather watch Lucas play, and that's sure as hell what he's going to do if Dustin doesn't follow through, but if both Lucas and Dustin agree, then he'll sub in.

Not just to give Eddie a piece of his mind about this whole thing.

“You're no help!” Dustin retorts, hanging the phone up.

Robin leans against him. “Are we talking about it now?”

He considers that, then wordlessly takes his heart out and offers it to her. They swap, sitting in silence for a moment as they adjust to each other's feelings.

She's upset. He is, too, though not about exactly the same thing.

“I'm still not mad at him for how things went between him and me,” he says.

“I am,” she replies, sharp and firm. “He made your heart hurt, I still think I should get to kick his ass.”

It's not Eddie's fault, though, not as far as Steve's concerned. Steve was the one that fumbled around without knowing what he was doing, that came on too strong. He didn't get it then, but now that he knows Robin and Will and how difficult things are for them - he understands it better.

But one of the things that made Steve fall for Eddie in the first place was the way he watched out for people. It wasn't the same way Steve did it, but - they were both protective, both willing to take the hits so other people wouldn't have to. It's disappointing to see how he's pitting the kids against each other like this.

He wishes they were still friends, wishes he could call him and ask what was going on.

“If he hurts one of the kids’ hearts, then you can kick his ass,” he says finally, once he's worked through his feelings and felt Robin's support.

—

It comes back, because it always does.

It comes back, and Eddie comes back, and Steve wasn't expecting that.

—

There's tension in the boathouse even after everything's been explained, and Steve knows everyone can feel it.

Knows because it's only a few moments before Dustin's announcing, “Hearts out! We'll show you we mean it, right, guys?”

Steve sneaks a look over at Max. He still hasn't gotten a really good look at her heart since after the 4th, but maybe - no, she clearly hasn't shown anyone else here, because she's gone pale, and she looks a combination of pissed and afraid.

“Dustin,” Steve snaps, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice and failing a little. “Did you forget that some of us have hearts that aren't all that reassuring to see?”

Dustin's expression scrunches for a moment, and Steve feels most of his irritation fade away as he realizes that, yeah, Dustin did forget that.

“Oh,” Dustin says quietly. “It's okay, Steve, you don't-”

“No,” he cuts him off, still a little annoyed. “Look, we all know that I'm the one causing doubt here, right? I'll show my heart so Munson knows I mean it and we can get this over with.”

He doesn't want to, but he wants even less for this to put a spotlight on Max.

So he takes his heart out, gets back in close enough for Eddie to see it, says, “We're not lying, man, I promise.”

His heart beats true, true, true in his hands, but Eddie's eyes are going wide and wet as he stares at Steve's heart, and he isn't any less pale.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers. “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing you have to worry about,” he replies, putting his heart back in his chest as soon as he can. “It's not going to happen to you.”

It comes out a little more protective than he'd intended, and it makes Eddie's eyes dart up to his, trying to search for something in there. Steve can't tell what, and he doesn't have Eddie's heart in his chest to help him out.

Strange, how quickly he's come to rely on having that familiarity with those he cares about.

Less strange that Eddie is still someone he cares about.

“Do you want to see mine?” Eddie asks, soft enough that Steve's pretty sure he's the only one who can hear it.

Steve does, is the thing. He really does.

But not like this.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, just as soft.

Eddie looks away, silent enough that Steve knows what the answer is without him saying anything.

“People try to make me show it all the time,” Eddie says, a little bitter. “I'm not trustworthy, you know. I'm not honest. I'm just going to screw them over.”

Steve's quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. He doesn't know how to tell him that Steve's never seen him that way, that all those other people are stupid.

Finally, he settles on, “I still haven't asked.”

Eddie turns to look at him again, his eyes gone molten. “No,” he says softly. “You haven't.”

Steve gives a half shrug. “There you go then.”

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

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Part 9

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n

[thebibliosphere]

I probably have hEDS, have had tense muscles since I was 8 and more and more of my joints started to be in constant pain, 10 years spine, 14 years hips, then hands at 19 and now all of them. And though I'm over 40 and don't practice any stretching, I still can contort myself in any direction.

But I don't know if it's worth the energy to fight for a diagnosis? Because it doesn't seem like there is any help, other than mild painkillers and physiotherapy, and I already get that. It is so much work to convince doctors to look into the source of joint pain, as soon as they can rule out rheumatoid arthritis they stop caring. And I don't belive I will get stronger painkillers even with a diagnosis anyway.

Do you think a diagnosis is woth the hassel?

For me, diagnosis was worth it because it meant getting the correct kind of physical therapy, which is often very different from the regular kind you usually get if the physical therapist is good at their job.

Regular PT used to damage my joints more. PT designed to target hypermobility has actually helped build joint stability, retrain my muscles, and reduce some of my pain by lessening the frequency of injuries.

It’s also good to know because hEDS affects more than just your joints.

I have a lot of problems with my internal organs due to how my connective tissue is affected, and my brother, who is undiagnosed but likely affected, suffered from spontaneous retina detachment twice. When I mentioned it to my eye doctor he said, “yeah, that happens to you zebras” and now I get my retinal health assessed every six months because fuck that.

It can also be good to know because of how it affects your care during things like surgery, ranging from which anesthesia they use to the type of sutures required.

When my mother had a mastectomy, she experienced several surgical complications, including not being able to get the wound site to close, so they kept dragging her back into surgery.

When I found out, I told my dad the surgical team needed to know my mother likely had hEDS because I did, and my mother and I are carbon copies of each other. When my dad told the surgeon, he apparently said, “Well, if I’d known that, I’d have done the whole thing differently!” and finally got my mother stitched up properly and into recovery.

In that regard, my diagnosis helped not just me but a family member, but also indicated the type of care I’ll likely need if I’m ever in the same situation.

So, yes, it's a hassle to get diagnosed and some (bad) doctors will frame it in terms of “there’s no cure so there’s no point.”

But for me, it’s not only been worth it but also vital to the management of the rest of my care. And let me be clear, there are some people for whom this is just a crappy joint disorder, and they are otherwise fine. But for many of us, we’re more than just our fucky joints. We’re an entire plethora of health problems that all cascade from our weak connective tissue, and it's important more people recognize that.

So is it worth it for you? That's a you decision. But it was very much worth it for me.

I wish you luck and fewer days of pain. This shit sucks.