#and suddenly everything better for just a moment
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loycos · 3 days ago
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ahh caitlyn my beloved.
let's talk about the trauma she has around jinx, in particular, in a way i think is more related to being targeted by jinx than just grief.
don't get me wrong- grief is a huge part of why caitlyn is all over the place this arc (season?). she probably came to the conclusion that her softer, pacifistic attitude from the first season is the reason she ended up hurt. clearly the rocky relationship she had with her mother adds a layer of bitterness and regret caitlyn is feeling regarding her death. alongside a million different reasons, which i might discuss in a different post.
but there's a clear difference between the anger and coldness we see from caitlyn when she discusses catching jinx and bringing her to justice, than when she faces jinx head on. in the latter, she suddenly loses her cool and acts all frantically, so unlike anything we've seen from caitlyn so far.
in her mind, in episode 1, she sees herself as collected and calm, aiming her rifle at jinx. btw, take note of how jinx is depicted here. her eyes are glowing.
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but in reality, she's very much NOT cool and collected when she thinks that exact scenario is about to be replicated.
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that's caitlyn's pov btw:
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again jinx with the glowing eyes- caitlyn had seen what jinx looks like in other circumstances, but THIS is the version of her that she visualizes and then irrationally reacts to.
we see it again when she shoots jinx in the finger
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no composure, no deep breathe, no thinking. she just shoots on instinct. it's nothing like she used to.
and then her frantically calling vi to move out of the way as she keeps firing, almost like shes blind to everything but jinx- the kid and vi, who are both in harm's way, don't stop her.
i know it's easy to just paint it as anger and grief here, but there's something about it that strikes me as almost like animalistic fear. she sees jinx and just goes feral mode, but its almost more of a prey instinct than a predator.
and i think it's because whenever she faces jinx, properly, it's not the grief and radicalized anger she's feeling, it just sends her back to this moment
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with all the "jinx murdered her mom" talk its easy to forget that jinx also directly, and cruelly, targeted caitlyn, tried to kill her, kidnapped her and held her hostage for who knows how long. it's not just anger that caitlyn feels towards jinx. it's a trauma response. and like, welcome to the club, caitlyn! most of the arcane cast are acting out of trauma. but i better not see people think her trauma is somewhat lesser than some... other.. characters.
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loves0phelia · 3 days ago
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Hi! I don’t know if you’ve watched part 2 of outer banks yet, and if you didn’t this request is a spoiler!!
Can you do JJ Maybank’s sister seeing him die and Rafe is just watching her break down and he’s comforting her while she cries in his arms? I’m sobbing over JJ right now 😭
Thank you!
Gone
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Summery: outer banks season 4 episode 10/the anon
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: SPOILERS, death, grammar mistakes.
A/N: i also sobbed, i cant believe it and thank you for requesting love youuu.
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The sandstorm hit suddenly. The air was thick, nearly solid with dust. You stumbled forward as the wind blew strongly, You screamed, begging JJ to come down before something terrible would happen but even if you pulled the scarf tighter across your nose and mouth every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass making it hard to speak. 
Everything was clouded and your goggles were smeared with sand dust. It was impossible to see your brother who was up high on that statue trying to find the blue crown you, the pogues and Rafe have been risking your lives for.
“Come down JJ!” You screamed as loud as you could, hoping he could hear you over the screaming wind. 
A surge of panic rose in you, he wasn't listening, only going higher and higher to reach the top.
“Hurry please!” You screamed again as the sandstorm was getting worse and worse. Squinting your eyes you could see JJ finally descending the statue after a while, carefully holding on to the rock.
“JJ, holy shit are you okay?” You rushed forward to him as he stumbled around frantically.
“I'm good! I'm better actually, I'm great. Look!” he yelled over the storm and held up the blue crown, it felt like a dream having it in front of you.
“No way, you found it” You both looked down at the dusty historical crown in silence for a second, sinking in it the victory that was so rare when it came to you and your twin.
“We got it!” He cheered, pumping his fist, jumping into place from all the adrenaline. The victory cheers didn't last long though, the next thing you knew shots were fired at you from the group who wanted to steal what was rightfully yours.
“Run, run, run” JJ shouted behind you as you ran through the sand blindly and desperate to find shelter.
The sandstorm roared with life around you, Yours and JJ's footsteps vanished almost as quickly as you made them, erased by the wind.
You coughed, your lungs stinging as you struggled to run down the stairs you had found leading inside the monument. 
But suddenly, a shadow appeared out of the storm. A strong hand gripped your forearms and in a sudden movement, your back was pressed on your “father's” chest, an arm around your neck holding on tightly, cutting your airflow and a sharp blade pressed into the side of your face.
“JJ!” you called out, trying to get out of his grasp.
“Let her go!” JJ shouted, his voice trembling with anger. He lunged towards you trying to rip you away from him but he only pressed the blade harder making you cry out. But Groff only shook his head.
You cried, struggling, and your heart pounding as Groff’s grip tightened. You fought against him, but his hold was unbreakable.
“You’re just like your mother,” Groff hissed, his gaze cold and unmoved. “Always standing in my way. Well, this time, you’re not going to stop me. Give me what I want”
“Let her go” He begged.
“If you had listened, we wouldn't be here JJ, you could have had everything. WE could have had the life we deserved as a family. All three of us. But now you get nothing. Nothing at all” Chandler pants like a maniac.
“I already have everything,” JJ says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. You want the crown? Sure, take it. I don't want it. Just let my sister go.”
“Give it to me, hold it out” He reached toward JJ for the precious object, his grip on you not loosening.
In a swift moment, an exchange was made. Groff grasped the crown, and JJ pulled you out of his arms.
“I got you” JJ breathed out with relief, like a weight was removed from his shoulders. He hugged you protectively. Holding your head against his shoulder like a shield. But then again, the victory was cut short.
“JJ, y/n” you were interrupted by the voice of your father, his call made both of you separate and turn to face him, JJ’s body still shielding you from further harm.
“It's a shame…you and I” You furrowed your brows and a gasp came out of your mouth when the sound of flesh being pierced rang out. 
“You should have given me the rope” Time was moving at a slow pace as the scene unfolded. Groff twisted the knife in JJ's stomach before pulling it out rapidly and running out into the desert.
"JJ!" You screamed, your voice raw with terror. You saw JJ stumble back, his hands flying to his side. Dark red blood was spreading through his shirt and across his fingers, and the sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut.
The world narrowed to the scene in front of you as you watched JJ fall, his face contorted in pain. 
“No, no, no” you cried, desperation thick in your voice.
You rushed to JJ’s side, catching him just as he stumbled. He looked up at you, his face pale and stained with tears.
“It's okay JJ, it's okay” You pressed into his wound, shaking terribly, sobbing when he let out a pained groan.
“No, please” you murmured, pressing your hand over the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”
“Hey, hey,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “Take care of the others for me, okay?”
“No! No” Your breaths shakes, your chest tight with sadness.
“I love you, y/n. You're the best sister anyone could ever have.” His gaze was beginning to drift, his eyes unfocused, and the strength in his grip was fading. Panic clawed at you.
“I love you, please don't go” you begged, but it was pointless he was already gone.
“No! No, no. Please! JJ, please” you shaked his shoulder weakly.
“John B!” You screamed, your chest burning from the lack of oxygen your lungs were getting.
“Pope! Rafe!” Your hands gripped your brother refusing to let go.
“Please JJ!” Your heart shattered completely, a part of you gone forever. Your brother, your twin, your best friend, the other half of your soul, gone. 
“Please” You pressed your forehead against him, your tears falling over the blood-soaked shirt.
The pogues came running towards you, sinking to their knees, calling out to him, crying, sobbing, mourning.
Everything in you gave out as you held onto him, you couldn't even fight when hands grabbed onto your shoulder to bring you away from your brother's corpse.
Your body fell limp into Rafe's lap. His hands held your body up as if he was your lifeline. 
“It's gonna be okay” He whispered against your forehead but you barely registered any of it, only sobbing, and screaming in pain against him. 
The Pogues stood in a tight circle, all eyes fixed on JJ as if somehow their stares alone could bring him back. But no one spoke, and in the heavy silence, the truth crashed over them, settling deep in their bones. JJ was gone.
Kiara’s shoulders shook, a small, trembling motion that quickly overtook her entire body. She fell to her knees, hands pressed to her mouth as she fought to hold back the sobs. 
Pope was beside her, his eyes frantically looking over the scene, he didn't want to believe any of it, as if it was a cruel joke.
John B stood, rigid.  His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and his jaw was set, teeth gritted as he tried to hold it all in, to keep the pain from breaking him apart. 
Rafe's arms wrapped around you gently, his hand resting on the back of your head as he let you fall into his chest. You buried your face in his shoulder, the grief and sorrow pouring out in waves as he held you.
He didn’t speak of the rivalry, the old wounds and the bitterness between your families; none of that mattered now. At this moment, all he saw was your pain, and he was there, his own heart breaking a little as he watched you crumble.
When the sobs finally subsided, leaving you weak and exhausted, Rafe pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen in him before—softness, understanding. 
“It's okay,” he murmured, his voice a promise, his hand gentle as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ve got you.”
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You sat on the sand as a fire crackled in front of you, you had just buried him, the silence was thick nobody wanted to believe the truth. 
Your head pounded, even when you were softly laying on Rafe's legs using them as pillows. His calloused fingers gently rubbed your hair and you tried to concentrate on the movement in an attempt to forget about the previous moment but you failed.
“Groff said he was going to Lisbon” Rafe whispered above you, making your eyes open and looking up at him. His eyes met yours and he continued.
“If he was my friend or my brother… I would go after the guy that just killed him” The mention made your heart burn but he had a point.
“He's not wrong” Kie whispered, agreeing with your inner thoughts. You snuggled against Rafe's legs one last time before sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder. 
“JJ would already be on his way to kill him if it was one of us,” you said and everyone's eyes snapped towards you, those were the first words you had spoken since it happened. 
“He'd get even,” John B added.
“Let's get revenge,” you said, your voice more confident than it was before, you felt a hand grasp onto yours and slowly you turned your head to face Rafe. He nodded and tightened his grip in a comforting way, never letting go.
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Send request please xx
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crazyvik97rpg · 21 hours ago
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Grandma Lillian showing up was honestly the most pleasant surprise – Sebastian hadn’t expected her at all. She herself had to deal with rough health problems lately, she was over 80 years old and it’s also been the reason they didn’t celebrate Christmas at her place last time. Her being here cheered Sebastian up a lot. They didn’t see each other often as it was.
They had a lot of catching up to do, to say the least. She got herself a chair and sat right next to Sebastian’s bed and they just…talked. A lot. About everything that happened. Grandma Lillian had been quite shocked about the news to say the least – she said herself, being sick by 80 was not unusual. 30 however? That was simply terrible! Sebastian still had his whole life ahead of himself – after that terrible drug–scare no less.
Well, they both could agree to that anyway – Sebastian couldn’t deny that it was something he never ever wanted to experience and yet he was here. He told his grandma everything – the appointments, the diagnosis, the whole process of arranging more tests, that William managed it all for him. How they even spotted the mole in the first place. She knew about Sebastian’s „new“ boyfriend, however never managed to meet him before – she often heard things about him at least. Cynthia loved him a lot – and that was saying something!
„And William said I should have it looked at because it looked so strange. Nothing he‘d ever seen before on me, at least. And it was for the better, he probably even saved my life that way…“, he sighed.
„Well, good thing you have such an attentive young man, dear. You men usually overlook these things, are you getting checked regularly? Well from now on I hope you do that“, she said as she held Sebastian’s hand. They spoke about lots of other things too though. It seemed William was a little late today, it was half past 4pm when the door suddenly opened.
They were in the middle of the conversation when William barged into the room, apologizing for being late. He was cute, really, kind of in a rush – Sebastian smiled at him and motioned to him to just come closer after he came to a halt, once he noticed the other visitor in the room with them. „Oh love, there you are…I already started wondering when you might show up“, he smiled and his grandma too looked up now, smiling as well. She figured out right away who that was – so she got to meet the new boyfriend after all.
„Grandma, that’s William. William, that’s my grandma Lillian. Mom‘s side“, Sebastian introduced them quickly. Lillian stood up for a moment, so they could actually shake hands properly: „It’s so lovely to finally meet you, William. I would have loved to in different circumstances, I have to admit“.
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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myth1cs · 1 day ago
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Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)
Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617
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As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.
"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."
When he said that I turned to Yeji.
"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"
"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"
After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.
"What was that Y/N?"
"Ryujin? What are you doing?"
"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."
"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."
"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"
"Yes but only-"
Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.
"Don't go over to her house."
"Why?"
"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."
"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"
"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."
Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.
I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.
I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.
At Yeji's House
I knocked on the door and waited for a response.
After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.
"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"
"Sure am Yeji."
Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.
After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.
"Y/N is that your phone?"
"Yeah why?"
"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."
"Don't worry about it Yeji."
I went and put me phone on silent.
"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"
"No it was just a spam message."
"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."
I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.
"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"
"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"
"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"
"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."
"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."
Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.
"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."
I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.
"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"
"Yeah sure let's do it."
I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.
"Let's go back to our work Y/N."
Next Day
As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"
Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"
Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"
I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.
When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.
"Y/N make your way to room 304."
"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.
"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."
I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.
"Glad you decided to follow me."
I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.
When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"
Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.
Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"
"Actually she's my girlfriend."
I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."
"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.
"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."
"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.
"Come on Yeji let's go back."
After School
As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin
Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."
I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."
I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.
"Hello?"
"Come in!"
When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.
"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"
I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.
"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"
"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."
Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.
"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."
Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.
"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."
"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"
Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.
"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"
"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"
Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.
"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."
Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.
"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"
"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."
Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.
"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"
I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.
Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.
"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.
Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.
"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"
"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."
Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.
I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.
"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"
"Ryujin!"
I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.
"Please Ryujin!"
"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."
"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"
Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.
"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."
"Mommy please!"
My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.
"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"
Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.
Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.
"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.
The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.
"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"
"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"
"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"
I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.
I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.
"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."
"Kiss me."
Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.
"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.
Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.
"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"
"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"
"Did you hear something Ryujin?"
"No must've been the wind."
I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.
"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"
"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."
Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.
"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.
I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.
"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."
"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."
"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."
-
The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.
"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"
"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"
"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.
I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.
"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.
"So your cock does still have some life in it."
"Yeji please no more."
"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"
I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.
"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"
"Yeji my cock is so sore!"
After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.
"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."
"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."
"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."
Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.
-
The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.
"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.
"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."
"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"
"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."
I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.
"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."
"What!?
"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."
Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.
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If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired
Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.
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hearts4hughes · 2 days ago
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present wrapping - nicholas chavez x fem!reader
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holly jolly november
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you and nicholas are sitting on the living room floor surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, and half-wrapped gifts. nick, looking a bit lost, holds a lumpy, unevenly wrapped box in his hands while you can’t help but laugh.
“okay, so… what exactly is this?” you giggle, pointing at his interestingly wrapped present.
with a sheepish grin on his face, he blushes, “a masterpiece? or maybe an abstract art piece. wrapping paper’s like my worst enemy right now.”
“yeah, i can tell.” you smile as he scratches the back of his neck. “give me that, i’ll teach you.”
half-wrapped present in hand, he shuffles closer to you on the floor. you take the present from him, removing the wrapping paper, and placing it down. as you explain to him the steps of present wrapping, he can’t help but be distracted by how pretty you looked under the christmas lights.
you and nick had always been close friends. you met through a mutual friend and clicked instantly. people joked around calling you platonic soulmates and nick always smiled, internally wishing for more. and now, with your soft voice and stunning face, it was harder for him to hide his feelings.
“earth to nick?” you snap at him and raise your brows. “are you even paying attention?”
he blinks his thoughts out of his eyes and nods. “uh- yeah.”
you roll your eyes with a playful smirk. “well, you better be because i’m making you do it yourself afterwards.”
he chuckled. you were always sassy and sarcastic, two of the many things he loved about you.
“and done!” you held up your perfectly wrapped box with a box fastened on top. “why don’t you try it? just fold and tape, it’s pretty simple.” you say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world as you hand him the roll of tape and wrapping paper.
his mouth is agape at how easy you made it seem. “you mean, try to not tape my fingers to the box?”
“exactly. small goals.” you begin laughing as he manages to tape down the paper without issue. he looks at you with a smug expression, taking pride in how he did the first step.
you watch as he focuses, carefully folding the paper like you showed him, his brows furrowed in concentration. there’s something endearing about how hard he’s trying, and you can’t help but smile.
“not bad… okay, okay, you’re actually doing pretty well,” you say, grinning. “maybe i am a good teacher.”
“or maybe you just have the patience of a saint.” he chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder.
finally, he secures the last piece of tape, then looks at the gift, a bit crooked but charming in its own way.
“there,” he says, looking at you proudly. “what do you think?”
“i think you’re a natural.” you both laugh, the sound warm and easy.
there’s a quiet pause, and you realize how close you’re sitting. the christmas lights cast a soft glow, and for a second, you wonder if he’s feeling the same thing you are.
“thanks for helping me… and for putting up with my terrible wrapping skills,” he says softly.
“hey, anytime,” you reply, meeting his gaze, your voice dropping to a whisper. “it’s actually kinda fun.”
a beat of silence falls over the room like snow on christmas eve. the two of you gaze into each others eyes and for a moment, time froze and only the two of you existed. nicholas’s eyes flickered between yours and your lips.
without another word, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle, unexpected kiss that feels like it’s been waiting to happen for a long time. it’s soft, warm, and perfectly timed, just like everything else tonight.
he pulls back with a smile. “sorry, i-”
you interrupt him, “i don’t mind.” your face is flushed with maroon hues. you try to regulate your breathing.
“good, because i’ve been wanting to do that… well, for longer than i’d like to admit.”
you lean into him with a content smile. in that moment, you felt whole. like whatever had been missing inside of you had suddenly been filled. you both let out a small giggle, content with this now cherished moment.
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Needy Lucifer x Reader - Morning Routine (NSFW)
Waking up next to Lucifer every morning was nothing short of a dream come true
More often than not, he’d be up before you, waiting for you to open your eyes and greet you with a gentle smile
It wasn’t long after that he would hop out of bed and offer to make you breakfast just so he could bring it to you in bed
But one particular morning, you woke up to something a little different
You forced your eyes open, the harsh light of hell shining through the window of your room
But when your eyes finally adjusted, you didn’t see Lucifer smiling like he always does
Instead, you felt his arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead pressed into your back and his breath quiet and shallow
Lucifer’s bucked into your body continuously, tiny little whimpers escaping his throat despite his best efforts to keep quiet
The poor angel was humping into your body like his life depended on it!
And God, the feeling of his hard cock pressed up against you could have driven you to the brink
It was very rare to see your king this needy so early in the morning; you decided to take advantage of the situation
“Lucifer? What are you doing?~”
“H-Honey! Shit, I-I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Just a little bit. But you didn’t answer me, what are you doing?~”
“I-I…fuck, I’m sorry…I don’t know what came over me…I just…I need you, please…”
“Was last night not enough for you, Luci?~ You’re being a little greedy now, don’t you think?~”
“N-No! Last night was perfect! You’re always perfect, love! I-I just…” You teased him by wiggling your ass against the tent in his pants, causing him to whine and shudder at the unexpected friction
”I don’t know, baby, do you think it’s becoming of a king to behave like this? Begging like a man who’s never been touched?~”
“Sweetie, p-please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I mean, I’m not…”
“Luci, I need to shower! You have to let me go.~”
Lucifer let out the most pathetic cry you’ve ever heard from him; he was already too far gone and you loved everything about it
You felt his arms loosen around you as he pushed himself away from you reluctantly
You giggled to yourself as your hands found the hem of your panties and shoved them down until you could kick them off
You looked over your shoulder to see Lucifer’s stare, his mouth hung agape
You flashed him a coy smile before reaching down and spreading apart your glistening pussy for him
“Oh come on now, Luci, you know I would never leave you in the state you’re in! I was only teasing you.~”
“B-But I thought…”
“I just needed you to let go for a moment, I couldn’t give you access with the way you were wrapped around me!”
Lucifer’s tail appeared suddenly, thrashing back and forth like a predator about to pounce
All he needed was your word
“Go ahead, it’s okay my little angel, I want you to fuck me like a good boy~”
Not even a second passed before Lucifer’s briefs were removed and he resumed his previous position of being wrapped around you like a koala
But this time, his cock was fully sheathed inside of you leaking cunt with his tail wrapped impossibly tight around your thigh that you had held up for him
His thrusts were utterly desperate; the only things he could utter were weak “thank you’s” and completely needy moans
You didn’t fair any better as his cock was absolutely destroying you; unable to form any coherent sentence
If he was like this now, you wondered how he would respond to an invitation to join you for a shower after he was done filling you with his angelic cum~
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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago
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reblogging comment review by @zyafics
i’m alive i’m here (i’m fulfilling my duties bc damn a bitch went offline for 9 days and is behind on everything 😭) ⬇️
You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.
ugh i miss ur writing sm i love how this scene felt “slow” like u were navigating this lagged moment with her because nothing felt real
As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.
i don’t give a shit the one thing i love more than romance stories is sibling relationships 😭 they’re my heart n soul
"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."
i fear he won’t do it 😭😃
“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”
jj 😭😭😭 leave her alone 😭😭😭
"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."
screaming into my pillow ur dialogues r too good
A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.
okay pause ✋🏼 not the thematic parallel to abusive and neglectful parental figures i cannot handle this
You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it.
THIS LINE EATS SO HARD 😭😭😭
“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”
my jj would swing at ur jj for the way ur talking to ur sister
“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”
PERIOD!!!!
 “He was good to me.”
girl *I* held my breath
Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.
i love ur sarah sm mines a bitchhh 🙂‍↕️✋🏼
“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”
WHY DO I FEEL LIKE HIS PUNK ASS IS GONNA BE LIKE “i don’t know a maybank”
"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
YOU PUNK ASS BITCH
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You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give.
no i didn’t (personally cannot scream LOL)
Six months had passed since that day
what the actual fuck
You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat. 
such good imagery god i love this
Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there. 
my heart is pounding omg
“You had six months.”
YIKES 😬
You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”
i’m shaking rn pls give a girl some respite
Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”
i’m throwing punches into my pillow rn biting my teeth ohmygod
Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”
go away demon 👹 @ gigi
It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier. 
oh we’re in season 3 now ok
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
i’m literally scraping my fingernails against chalkboards rn pls stop this madness 🛑🛑🛑
Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.
gonna die ok 🪦
You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you. 
You were in love with Rafe Cameron. 
oh my fucking god u did it again
final thoughts — ohmygod. i dont know why i kept putting off reading this? i think a part of me was scared because the literal content warning was “aka angst” and i said no. anyways, first and foremost u done it again gigi. what i was so impressed about this chapter was ur ability to create such flowing, strong and long dialogues. the one between jj and reader i read twice because i can’t believe how naturally-paced this story goes through that u don’t even realized it’s chunks on chunks of dialogues. that’s such an incredible feat and knowing now that ur from europe and english is probably a second language? the way u select the right words at the right time is an talent i strive to have. i’m like re-editing in my head being like “would i come up with that?” and being like “yeah i would’ve ended it there (bc i don’t know how to elongate a scene) but gigi knew how to keep it going.” gigi, when i tell u that’s one of the most impressive skills i’ve ever seen in my life i’m so serious. also, the way you structure and keep a consistent flow of emotions. the beginning of the story is stretched out in a way that i cinematically imagined a lagged moment. yk how in euphoria where it drags a scene from one part to the next? like that. and then the ending, when i said i was shaking, i was truly shaking. u had my heart clutched in ur hand and u just SQUEEZED IT 😭 💔 the way i felt everything and was so scared and panicking and my eyes wanted to read ahead because i wanted to know what happens but i also wanted to enjoy the writing 😭 u got me doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to read 😃 i thoroughly enjoyed this to the very end and ngl, i am so scared to read the next chapter i think imma hold off for a min…
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - five
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
warnings: angst <3333333 for everyone <33; might need some editing bc im too tired to check everything but yeah
word count: 7.7k
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The ride back to home was a blur. The plane ride, the ferry.
Everything. 
Every mile that took you further from Rafe felt like a wound being reopened. The police officers tried to engage you in conversation, but your responses were monosyllabic at best. They eventually gave up, letting you stare out the window in silence.
When you finally arrived, the sight of the familiar streets of The Cut did little to comfort you. Your house felt alien, a place you barely recognized. The officers escorted you inside, their presence a reminder of the reality you were returning to. 
“Your brother and your friends were rescued from a remote island a while ago. He was informed of your whereabouts an hour ago, he’ll be here soon.”
Their words barely registered.
You nodded numbly; your mind still stuck between the events that had unfolded just two days ago.
What kind of sister had you turned into? Barely phased over the fact your little brother was thankfully alive and well? You were supposed to protect him. 
Sensing your detachment, they exchanged a look before retreating to the porch, giving you some semblance of privacy.
You wandered through the house, your steps heavy. Each room felt like a snapshot from another life. The couch where you and your brother used to bicker over TV shows when Luke spent days doing God knows what, the kitchen table where meals were shared and stories were told, only between you two– they all seemed like relics of a past you could no longer touch.
Things would never be the same, you knew that.
You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.
That must be your punishment. 
A soft knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. You sat up, heart racing. Your body was still on high alert, every little noise sent shivers down your skin. The blasting of the gunshots was still deeply rooted in your brain. It hadn’t even been three days. 
The old wooden door creaked open, and your brother's face appeared, bright blue eyes wide with concern. He rushed to your side, pulling you into a tight embrace nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.
"Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “Holy shit.”
You clung to him, the dam breaking as tears streamed down your face. The sobs wracked your body as JJ held you like you used to hold him. It devastated you. It felt so disappointing. He was never supposed to be the one carrying the family burden, you were. After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, wiping your tears. Your brother sat beside you, his eyes searching your face.
“You’re not hurt?”
You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words, but all you managed to blurt out was a small “No. You?”
“No,” JJ nodded, lips pursed into a tight line as if he was figuring out what to say next, “They told me about the shooting.”
Your heart sank further at his words. You had hoped to avoid talking about it, at least for a little while. But he was watching you like he used to when you would act as a human shield for him, you couldn't brush it aside.
“I’m fine, I promise.” You reached out and squeezed his hand. "What about you? How did you get off that island?"
JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
“It was a mess. We were stuck there for weeks, trying to find a way out. Pope and Kie kept us sane, but it was rough. We finally managed to signal a passing boat, and they rescued us. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about you."
You squeezed his hand tighter, guilt and gratitude warring within you.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, JJ."
He shook his head vehemently. "No, don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I—I should’ve saved you on that ship, okay? It’s on me, not you.”
You’d cry again if you didn’t feel like your body was about to collapse, “You did everything you could. We both did. It's not your fault."
“The one time we changed places, and I couldn’t do it.”
"Jay—"
"I should have been there for you," He insisted, "I hated it."
It was your fault, not his. You pulled him into another hug, trying to convey with your touch what words couldn't express. The weight of your shared guilt and pain was almost suffocating, but at least you were together. You felt his body shaking, whether, from exhaustion or emotion, you couldn't tell.
When you finally let go, you took a deep breath, hoping to find some semblance of strength.
"We’re gonna be okay.”
JJ nodded, though you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. "I know. It's just... hard."
"I get it. But we're both here, we're alive.”
A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
The two of you sat in silence for a while, it was a fragile peace, but it was something. The familiar sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside the window was a reminder that life continued, even when it felt like your world had stopped.
"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" JJ's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
If he only knew. The one time you managed to close your eyes and sleep you were plagued by nightmares of JJ finding out what you’d done. About you and Rafe. It made you want to scratch your skin raw. 
“Yeah.”
You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, a mirror of your own fatigue. You knew you both needed rest, but the thought of sleep was daunting. The nightmares felt too close, the darkness too suffocating.
"Let's try to get some sleep," You suggested softly, though you weren't sure you could follow your own advice. "We both need it, ‘kay?”
JJ nodded, but you could see the wariness in his eyes. He laid down next to you, the bed barely accommodating the both of you.
As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.
The minutes ticked by in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic crashing of the waves outside. You focused on that, letting it be your anchor. Slowly, the tension in your body started to ease, the weight of the day’s events beginning to lift, even if just a little.
"Do you remember the first time we went out on the boat alone?" JJ's voice was a whisper in the darkness, a fragile thread connecting the past to the present.
A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah. You insisted you knew how to steer, and we almost ended up crashing into that sandbank."
He chuckled softly. "We were so scared. But you figured it out. You always did."
The memory was a bittersweet reminder of simpler times, a time when your biggest worry was navigating the boat, not navigating the chaos your lives had become. When you weren’t a complete fuck up.
Exhaustion finally began to overtake you, your eyes growing heavy. JJ's breathing evened out beside you, a comforting rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Not without losing him in the process. 
Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. Completely void, much like yourself these days. 
Morning came too soon, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the room.
You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment before the events of the past days came rushing back. JJ was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful in repose.
Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The officer who comforted you after the shooting promised to call as soon as he got an update on Rafe’s condition. And so far? No call.
You wondered if the hospital or the police had contacted Sarah. She was Rafe’s closest family, aside from Wheezie who was still a kid, and Ward who was a sought-out criminal. It made sense that they would reach out to her.
If you rang the hospital, they wouldn’t disclose a thing, you weren’t family, and it wasn’t like you could ask Sarah. She would know something was wrong the moment you asked about Rafe. It was risky. 
The kitchen felt eerily quiet, the early morning light casting long shadows on the walls. You made yourself a cup of coffee, the warmth a small comfort against the chill that had settled in your bones.
Sitting at the table, you sipped slowly, trying to come up with some sort of tangible plan. You wanted to know if he was okay, needed to know, but every option seemed fraught with risk.
Your new phone buzzed on the table, jolting you from your thoughts.
You picked it up, heart pounding as you saw an unknown number flashing on the screen. You hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
“This is Officer Thompson. I promised I’d keep you updated on Rafe Cameron’s condition.”
You closed your eyes, thanking God for finally giving you some piece of mind, “Yes, thank you.”
“He’s stable,” Officer Thompson continued. “The surgery went well, and he’s in recovery. It’ll be a while before he’s fully back on his feet, but he’s out of immediate danger.”
The knot in your stomach loosened slightly. “Thank you for letting me know.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“I know this is difficult, but you should focus on your own recovery too. There’s a chance the feds will contact you, they’re building their case on Ward. What happened to you is, unfortunately, considered a minor crime compared to everything he’s done, so maybe you’ll get some peace. If not, you might have to testify against him.”
The idea of having to testify against Ward made you uncomfortable to no end. Reliving those moments in front of a courtroom full of strangers seemed unbearable. 
“And Rafe? What are his charges?”
"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."
A deal. It was a slim chance, but it was something. You hated yourself for the weight that left your shoulders. He should be locked up, you knew that, back then you prayed for the day he paid for what he did and yet here you were, holding on to any possibility of freedom.
You thanked Officer Thompson again and ended the call, setting your phone down with a shaky hand. The coffee had grown cold, but you didn't have the energy to make another cup. You sat there for a long moment, staring into space, trying to gather your thoughts.
The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you turned to see JJ standing in the doorway, his hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep.
“Who was that?” He asked, his voice still groggy.
“Uh—Officer Thompson. He was at the scene the other day and told me he’d keep me updated.”
JJ tilted his head, his messy bed hair following suit, “Updated on what?”
“Rafe’s condition,” You replied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. It was a half-lie. At least you were giving him something. 
JJ stopped in his tracks, “And you care because…?”
“For closure, I guess.”
JJ’s gaze softened slightly as he walked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting across from you.
“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”
You winced inwardly. "JJ, you can't just say stuff like that.”
He leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "Why not? After everything he’s done, he deserves whatever he gets."
You couldn't argue with that, but part of you still felt the need to defend Rafe. He saved your life.
“He’s still a human being, okay?”
JJ scoffed, shaking his head. "Barely.”
You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so angry, so defensive. But it made its way up your body until your lips were moving again, practically spitting the words out.
“He saved my life.”
Your brother stared at you like you were speaking another language, “Saved your life? Are you serious? It’s his fault you were there in the first place!”
“He chose to help me. And I can't just forget that."
JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.
"This is insane. One good deed doesn't erase all the bad he's done."
You reached for his back, “I know that.”
He pulled away from your touch, your fingers only brushing against his shirt, “Do you?”
His retreat felt like a knife to your heart. JJ had always been your rock, the one person you could count on. Seeing him look at you with such disbelief and anger made you feel more isolated than ever. He looked at you like you’d imagined in your nightmares, but the real thing felt ten times worse. 
"I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m just saying… it’s complicated."
He paced around the kitchen table.
"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."
"It's not sympathy," You insisted, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay collected. You never raised your voice at him. "It's just... I don't know. I saw a different side of him. Maybe he can change. Or at least help put Ward away."
JJ stopped and spun around to face you, his eyes blazing. "And what if he doesn't? What if this is all part of some twisted game for him? People like Rafe don't just change, okay? They manipulate, they hurt, they destroy."
“JJ—"
“You sound exactly like her.”
You didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. Suddenly your entire soul felt like it was being drained out and slashed into pieces.
You spent a lifetime hearing it, from Luke.
A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.
“Don’t say that.”
“That’s exactly the type of bullshit she would spit out about dad, wasn’t it? And look where it got her.”
Memories of your mother flooded back. The excuses, the false hope, and the endless cycle of pain and disappointment. You weren’t her, were you? Holding out for a man who was never going to change, who would only inflict pain upon your life? It couldn’t be. You spent your entire life making sure you were nothing like her.
It wasn’t fair.
You weren’t making excuses for Rafe as your mother did for Luke. You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it. You stood there, feeling the weight of his accusation like a leaden cloak.
How could he think you were blind to Rafe’s faults? You knew them all too well. Standing there in the kitchen, under the harsh morning light, you felt exposed, vulnerable, and fiercely defensive.
“I’m not her,” You finally managed to say, your voice cracking, “I’m not defending him like she did.”
“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”
Your eyes narrow into slits, “I’m not doing this with you, not right now.” 
You turned away, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to regain your composure.
He followed you hot on your trail, "Don't walk away from me.”
"I'm not defending him," You insisted, your back still to him, “I’m just trying to understand, okay?”
“Understand what? Jesus, Rafe is who he is.”
"And maybe he can change," You shot back, the words spilling out despite the tightening knot in your chest. "Maybe he saved my life because he wants to change."
"He's manipulating you," JJ retorted, his jaw clenched. "Just like he always does. You went through some traumatic shit together, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything."
You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face him again. Your head was tingling, the headache already forming itself, and you felt hot all-over. 
“Some traumatic shit?” You repeated, “Are you fucking serious?”
JJ raised both his hands, tangling them in his hair in frustration, “You almost died, and now you're here defending the guy who put you in that position?"
The accusation stung. You felt the heat rise in your chest. You hated fighting with your brother. You were letting your feelings for Rafe get between the two of you.
He shook his head, disappointment oozing from him in waves, "Good luck with that. Just don't expect me to sit here and act like everything's okay."
You blinked away the dryness in your eyes, "I'm not asking you to. Can't you see that maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem?"
“All I know is what he's done to us, to you."
"And what about what he did for me?" You shot back, the words bitter on your tongue.
“And what did he do exactly?" Your lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from his mouth, “What did you do?”
You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. His accusation lingered in the air, challenging you to defend the indefensible. The truth was there, clawing at your mind, but you couldn't bring yourself to voice it. 
Not to JJ, not yet.
"I don't expect you to understand," You finally said, voice strained, "But I’m not turning my back on him.”
JJ's eyes narrowed; frustration etched on his face. "Why?”
“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to evaporate. For a moment, the kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the instant regret that filled your bones.
Finally, JJ spoke, his voice low and strained. "Fine. Do what you want."
You watched as he turned away, his shoulders tense with anger or disappointment – perhaps both. His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet kitchen as he stormed out, leaving you standing there, feeling raw and exposed. It was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him, and the aftermath left a bitter taste in your mouth. 
Alone in the kitchen, you sank into your chair again, your energy completely drained. Part of you wanted to run after him, to explain, to make him understand. But he never would. None of them would.
Because unlike you, they weren’t stupid enough to sympathize with Rafe Cameron.
Sitting there, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd crossed a line, one you might not be able to uncross. You stared at your hands, still trembling from the argument, and let out a long, shaky breath. What was it about Rafe that had such a grip on you? 
You heard the front door open and close, a clear sign that JJ had left the house. Maybe it was for the best, giving you both time to cool down. You got up to pour the coffee down the sink, the sound of the liquid swirling away a tiny comfort.
You spent the entire day locked away in your room, avoiding any kind of social interaction, or the sun. Your phone buzzed again, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it.
You picked it up, expecting another call from Officer Thompson, but the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat.
Sarah.
With a deep breath, you answered. “Hey sweets.”
“Hi,” Sarah’s voice was almost unsure. “JJ and the police called earlier, told us what happened. Are you okay? I’m on the mainland with John B, we’re taking the next ferry back home.” 
You closed your eyes, somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to face them yet.
“Yeah, I’m…Managing. I'm okay.”
“Good, that’s good,” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Have you heard anything about...Rafe?”
Had the hospital not called her? The question hung in the air. You had, but you didn’t know how much to share. 
“He’s stable. The surgery went well.”
Sarah sighed, “Good. That’s good to hear I guess.”
“Sarah,” You began, hesitating. “Did the hospital call you?”
There was a long silence on the other end before she replied, “Yeah. But I…I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew it was coming after the police called. But—Yeah, it’s just, it’s really hard.”
You didn’t know what to say, “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re the only one not giving me shit about still…caring? I guess. He’s my brother, you know? And I want to hate him, so bad, but I can’t.”
"I get it, Sarah. He's your brother. It's okay to feel conflicted."
"Yeah," She exhaled heavily, "But I don't know how to deal with it. He's done so much harm, and yet. I keep hoping there's still some good left in him. I know there's no hope for my dad, but Rafe..."
She had seen him before Ward turned him into this. She still carried the guilt of reveling in their father’s approval, the clear favoritism that she never stood against for her brother, even though she could see her father’s fingers printed on Rafe’s cheeks. 
Her words echoed your inner struggle. You understood her—how love and hate could coexist in such a tangled mess when it came to family. 
 “He was good to me.”
There was a long pause.
You expected her to hang up on you, to call you a list of degrading names, all of which you felt you deserved. She had suffered deeply at the hands of her brother— the same brother you had come to care for, despite knowing the full extent of what he’d done. 
But you underestimated her.
Caught between your own anxiety and the dread of truth being exposed, you momentarily forgot just how compassionate and noble Sarah was. She possessed a goodness that mirrored your own—loyal, forgiving, and endlessly understanding.
Both lovers and fighters.
 "I know, the feds told me about the shooting," Sarah finally said, "And I think that's what makes it so hard. Picturing him as the same monster from before was a lot easier.”
You nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling a deep ache in your chest. "Yeah."
"I don't know what to do," She confessed, her vulnerability cutting through the distance between you. "Part of me wants to see him, to talk to him. And part of me wants to never look at him again."
"I think... whatever you decide, it's okay," You offered tentatively, not entirely sure if your words were comforting or just empty platitudes.
“John B disagrees.”
“Yeah, so does JJ.”
"I appreciate you telling me about Rafe," Sarah continued, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing it from anyone else."
You felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry you had to hear it like this, sweetheart. I wish things were different."
"We all do," she replied softly. "Thank you.”
“Of course," You said, "Take care of yourself.”
"You too. We'll see you soon, okay?"
"Yeah. See you soon."
The call ended, and you stared at your phone for a long moment, the screen dark and lifeless, much like yourself lately. 
You spent the next few days in a haze, avoiding JJ and the rest of your friends as much as possible. You’d only seen Sarah. Somehow her presence didn’t make you feel as nervous as you thought. It weirdly calmed you down. You’d always been close, ever since she joined the group, but now you felt like she was the only one who understood your point of view. 
You knew Pope and Kie wouldn’t, and you couldn’t blame them.
Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.
The small house felt like a prison. It wasn’t until a week later, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore, that your phone buzzed with a message. It was the officer: "Rafe’s awake."
Your heart leaped into your throat. You still hadn’t told anyone the full extent of what had happened between you and him, and you weren’t sure you ever could. They knew he was in the hospital, that you two had gotten caught in a shooting, that he’d somehow saved your life. That was it. But now, with him awake…You didn’t know what to do.
With trembling hands, you dialed the number the officer had provided. After a few rings, someone answered.
"Hello, this is St. Michael Hospital. How can I help you?"
You snap out of your daze, "Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Rafe Cameron. I was told he’s awake."
There was a pause, the sound of keyboard keys clicking. "Yes, Mr. Cameron is awake. Are you a family member?"
“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”
“Okay, just a minute please.”
The hold music was the only thing keeping you centered on the moment, each note heightening your anxiety. When the nurse returned, her tone was pitiful, and you knew then that you weren’t going to like her answer.
"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
You wanted to hurl the phone into the ocean, plunge your head underwater, and only resurface when the ringing in your ears ceased.
 What the hell? 
You had spent weeks on edge, consumed by thoughts of him, hoping he would survive, praying for him despite not believing in that sort of thing. You didn't have it in you to put up a fight.
"No, that's all. Thank you." You ended the call and stared at your phone. 
Rafe didn’t want to speak with you.
You felt foolish, as if you were just now glimpsing the bigger picture and recognizing that maybe he didn’t care after all. Perhaps, on the island, you were the one thing keeping him grounded, but now? Now you were back to being a nobody, just a pogue.
It felt like everything you had shared was for nothing.
Had you imagined it? No, you knew you hadn’t.
Rafe had kissed you and touched you with the tenderness of a lover, as if you were precious and any rough movement might break you.
The moments you had shared, the way he had saved your life—maybe they didn’t mean as much to him as they did to you. The bond you thought you had formed with Rafe was, perhaps, a desperate attempt to find something good in the chaos.
The waves crashed against the shore, the sound a distant roar as you sat on the sand, a storm brewing inside. You tried to hold it together, to keep the facade of normalcy for a little longer, but it was getting harder with each passing day. This felt like it was the final straw.
Without warning, a scream ripped from your throat, raw and unfiltered. It echoed across the empty beach, a primal release of everything you had been bottling up.
The anger, the confusion, the hurt—it all came pouring out in that one moment. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the salty sea breeze.
You hadn’t cried properly in weeks. 
You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give. The sun cast long shadows on the sand, the beach deserted except for you. Collapsing back onto the sand, you let the tears flow freely. 
There was no one to judge you, no one to see you fall apart. You’d spent a lifetime pulling yourself together, it was only fair you finally got to breathe properly. When the tears subsided, you wiped your face with the back of your hand and took a shuddering breath. The tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by a hollow ache.
You were many things, but none of them were weak and yet...It was almost unbearable, the way your mind replayed every interaction, every look, every word, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that would have warned you not to get attached.
The sound of footsteps in the sand pulled you from your thoughts.
You turned to see JJ approaching. Your heart sank; you weren’t ready to face him after the argument. He sat down next to you, silent for a moment as he followed your gaze out to the horizon.
When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
You nodded, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry for what I said about Mom,” he continued, his tone filled with regret. “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That wasn’t fair.”
You swallowed hard, the tension easing slightly from your shoulders. “It’s okay, JJ. I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I did, and I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t trust him, and I hate that you’ve been caught up in all this.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
He glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”
“I called the hospital. They said he’s awake, but he doesn’t want to speak with me.”
Your brother frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “That fucking asshole. After everything—”
You shook your head, cutting him off gently. “Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he’s right.”
JJ’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”
A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, trying to believe his words. “I just... I thought there was more to it. That maybe he could change.”
“People like Rafe... it’s hard to change.”
“Yeah.”
 “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wanting to see the good in him.”
He spoke with such gentleness and wisdom. You forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore. That he’d also done his fair share of growing up way too fast. 
You leaned into his touch, “I know.”
“We’ll get through this,” JJ said firmly. “Together. You and me, like always.”
 “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the beach, you and JJ sat there in silence. The waves continued to crash against the shore, a reminder that life moved forward, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.
Maybe things would never go back to the way they were, but you had your brother, your friends, and a resilience you hadn’t known you possessed. 
⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚
Six months had passed since that day.
Life had settled into a fragile semblance of normalcy. The days were longer now, summer heat pressing down on The Cut, making the air thick and heavy. You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat. 
You were lost in your book when a loud, insistent banging on the door jolted you from your reverie. Few people would knock with such urgency.
The forceful banging on the door didn’t stop and you jolted upright.
Without thinking, you got up and flung the door open, irritation flaring. "What the f—"
Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there. 
"Rafe?" You blurted out. You immediately tried to close the door in his face, but he was quick. His hand shot out, holding it open, "Are you kidding me?" You hissed, pushing harder against the door.
"Maybank—"
"If you don't get off my property, I swear to fucking God—"
"Wait!" Rafe's voice was strained, his hand trembling as he held the door open. "Just listen for a second."
You glared at him, every instinct telling you to push harder, to shut him out. But something in his eyes—fear, desperation, a flicker of the Rafe you once knew—gave you pause.
The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out and terrifyingly pale.
The last update you had on him was from Sarah, months ago. He had left the hospital and kept sporadic contact, reaching out to her only every few weeks.
You never asked her about his well-being or what he was doing; despite guessing that he was cooperating with the police. At least you hoped he was. 
You were determined not to care anymore.
He leaned his weight against the doorframe, “You look good.”
You were going to slap the lack of common sense out of him. 
You scoffed, not letting your guard down. “What are you doing here?”
He looked down, struggling to find the words as he scratched the back of his head, “I... I needed to see you. To talk.”
“And I need you to crawl back to whatever hole you just creeped out of, have a good day.”
You tried to push the door shut again, but his grip tightened. “Please, just give me a minute.”
“You had six months.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I was— It’s messed up, okay? I’m still working with the feds. I was losing it. Still am, probably. But I need to explain. Please, Maybank, just a minute.”
You hesitated the anger and hurt battling against the small, lingering part of you that still cared.
Finally, you stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to enter.
“Talk,” you said, your voice icy.
Rafe stepped inside, looking around your small living room as if seeing it for the first time, which you now realized he'd never been in your house.
He turned to face you, his expression earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. I felt—“, He took a deep breath, cheeks puffing, “Ashamed. I don’t know.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, keeping a safe distance between you.
“Ashamed? You’ve done a lot of things to be ashamed of. You can’t just show up after six months and expect everything to be fine.”
“I know,” He admitted, taking a deliberate small step closer to you, “I wasn’t expecting that. I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I’m in therapy and rehab, trying to get clean. I’ve been going to meetings. It’s been hell, but I’m trying.”
You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”
He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to find the right words.
“Because you’re the only person who ever saw anything good in me. And I can’t forget that. I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know that your faith in me wasn’t for nothing.”
The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise. You had expected anger, arrogance, manipulation—but this was different. Genuine. It felt like you were back in that motel room, in his arms.
You let out a scoff, focusing your gaze on the couch you were just resting on, as you shifted your weight on your feet. “Is that all?”
Rafe's eyes darted to the floor, “No, it’s not all. I just—Shit. I need to make things right. With you. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”
You took a deep breath.
Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him another chance, but the other part of you—the part that had been hurt and abandoned—was screaming not to fall for it again.
“You didn’t even want to talk to me when you woke up.”
He looked up, guilt etched across his features. “I didn’t know how to face you after everything that happened. I was a mess.”
“So you shut me out?” You snapped, “You made me feel like I meant nothing.”
“That’s not true,” He snapped back, head whipping up, then immediately softened his tone, taking another step closer. “That’s not true. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I was getting better for you."
“Don’t lie to me.”
Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”
“Cameron.”
Another step closer. His eyes pleading with you to understand. 
You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.
"I never lied to you," He repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared and confused, but I never lied.”
You felt your anger rising again, every muscle in your body tensing as you tried to keep control. “Scared and confused? That’s your excuse?”
Rafe flinched at your words, but he didn't back down. “I know how it sounds. I handled it all wrong. I’m trying to fix it.”
“You think saying sorry and showing up out of the blue makes it better? It doesn't erase the months of silence.”
His hands reached out, his palms open as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. “I’m not asking for forgiveness right away. I just want a chance to make things right.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” You spat, your voice trembling with emotion, “How it felt, watching you almost die. I spent days wondering if you were going to be—” 
You stopped yourself, knowing that if you continued your voice would crack and the tears would start pouring down your cheeks.
You already cried enough for him. 
Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”
You took a step back, putting more distance between you, needing the space to think clearly. “I needed you to be sorry six months ago.”
It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier. 
Rafe noticed your eyes wandering to his head and ran a hand through his short hair, a hint of a self-conscious smile flickering across his lips. “Yeah, I uh, made some changes. Trying to start over, I guess.”
You nodded slightly, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice steadier now.
“I’m happy for you, but I can’t do this.”
“Pretty—"
You sighed, rubbing your temples as you cut him off, “I feel guilty enough as it is around everyone else.”
“I told Sarah.”
His words hit you like a punch to your gut. 
“What?”
“About us.”
You felt your stomach drop and your vision narrow, the world tilting sideways as the reality of what he just said sank in. “You what?”
“I told her.” 
“You absolute fucking—” You hissed, your voice rising without warning, “Are you serious?!”
“I thought it was the right thing to do,” His tone faltered to one that could’ve fallen on deaf ears if not attentive enough. “I needed someone to talk to, and she’s…my sister.”
“You thought it was the right thing to do?” You were shouting now, unable to contain your anger. “You think spilling everything to Sarah was the right thing to do? Did you ever consider how that might affect me? Or her?”
Rafe flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“Of course you didn’t,” You nearly growled, pacing the small living room. “You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?”
“Listen— “ He opened his mouth undoubtedly to fire back with another half-assed apology - but you barreled forward, letting the months of bottled resentment continue to burst open.
“You’re so selfish.”
“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone,” His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, “It’s okay.”
“You really believe that?” You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “This is too much for her to keep to herself. It’ll eat away at her until she tells someone. And when that happens, my life here is over.”
Rafe looked stricken, his face pale. “I just—I needed someone to understand what I’m going through.”
For the first time, he took the time to explain what was going on in his head instead of letting his frustrations take over and kissing you.
“And what about what I’m going through?” You demanded. “Did you ever stop to think about that? I’ve been trying to move on, to rebuild my life, and you just waltz back in and blow everything up.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
You spotted his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely before.
“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Bitterness began to overpower the pit of your heaving chest, “Sorry doesn’t make it go away. You can’t just undo what you’ve done.”
“I know,” One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare., “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear.”
“Make it right? You can’t make this right, Rafe.”
“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying, pretty. I really am.”
You felt a smidge of sympathy despite your anger. You could see the pain and desperation in his eyes, the same pain and desperation you had felt for the past six months. But that didn’t change the fact that he left you hanging for so long.
“I need you to leave,” you said finally, your voice cold and distant.
You expected him to put up a fight, to lash out, hide his emotions with empty threats and petty names. But he didn’t.
Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to leave. You watched him go in silence.
Part of you wanted to run after him, to give him another chance, to believe that he could change. But another part—the part that had been wounded and left to heal on its own—knew that it wasn’t that simple.
You had to protect yourself, even if it meant shutting him out for good.
Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.
You blinked, taken aback. "What?"
He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the raw honesty in his eyes. "I don’t regret what happened. Between us. I regret how I handled it, how I hurt you, but I don’t regret feeling something real for once."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the suffocating heat seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold clarity. You crossed your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold onto your anger, your resolve. But his words had hit a nerve, bringing back memories you’d tried so hard to bury.
You looked away, unable to look at him, "It doesn’t change anything."
"I know.”
With that, he turned and walked out the door, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you standing there. The room felt emptier than it hand in months as you leaned your forehead against the cool wood over the door.
You pushed away from the door, needing something to distract yourself. 
You picked up your book, but the words blurred on the page. You tossed it aside, your thoughts too chaotic to focus. Instead, you paced the small living room, replaying the conversation in your mind.
You eventually collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. You did the right thing, so why did it hurt so bad? 
You felt like a wound had been reopened, and you hated him for it.
But you hated yourself more for letting him get to you. The hours dragged on, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows through the windows. You tried to lose yourself in anything—TV, reading, cleaning—but nothing could shake the gnawing feeling of unresolved problems that clung to you.
You only saw Rafe's face, his desperate eyes, his trembling hands.
You remembered the feel of his skin, the sound of his voice when he was vulnerable. The memories were too real, too persistent. You couldn't bring yourself to explain it to yourself. Your eyes begin to itch, warning you to think of something else.
Anything else but Rafe.
Was this heartbreak? No—it couldn't be. 
You weren't in love with Rafe Cameron.
 At least, you didn't think you were.
You had never allowed yourself to consider it, to dwell on what you felt for him. But now, in the stillness of your small living room…it was different. You never had a good parental figure to teach you these things.
All you knew was destruction, violence, and heartbreak. And although you’d done pretty well for yourself, all things considered, this was new to you.
The thought hit you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable.
You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you. 
You were in love with Rafe Cameron. 
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nocasdatsgay · 3 days ago
Text
A Lesson in Heartbreak
2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons
Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader
Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.
Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below
Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris
A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.
Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)
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“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist. 
Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect. 
He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms  crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight. 
“What?” Eris looked at his mate. 
Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”
“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.” 
Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said. 
“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves. 
“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”
After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”
He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”
Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?” 
“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.” 
Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”
“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.” 
“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered. 
Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”
He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”
“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”
“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him. 
“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.” 
Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”
Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”
“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”
Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him. 
“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.” 
Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging. 
“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.” 
Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat. 
“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked. 
In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed. 
“I only told him what you told me.”
“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”
“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.” 
You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered. 
“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?” 
“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”
“Always,” she smiled. 
You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands. 
“So what happened?”
You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start. 
You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit. 
“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly. 
She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?” 
“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“
You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again. 
You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if  they don’t want me anymore.”
“They're your mates, of course they want you.”
“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.” 
“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look. 
“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?” 
They didn’t.
That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them. 
Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her. 
“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.” 
She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down. 
Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again. 
“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”
You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink. 
To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep. 
There was a break in the letter and she added. 
She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may. 
Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved. 
He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back. 
With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond. 
Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’ 
His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said. 
Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed. 
He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window. 
She is awake. a shadow whispered. 
He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened. 
“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”
”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”
His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. 
“I’m sorry, I can go.”
”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”
His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were. 
“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.” 
He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea. 
“Zemër, tell me what happened.” 
Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed. 
“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” 
There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?” 
“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”  
He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own. 
“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?” 
She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly. 
We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go. 
“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.” 
She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.” 
Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.” 
She nodded and he winnowed away. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before. 
One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.
Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait. 
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him. 
“You came back,” Eris whispered. 
“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”
“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 
“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”
“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to. 
“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.” 
Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?” 
To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question. 
“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it. 
“But you said-“
“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”
There was silence between them for a moment. 
“She’s not coming back.” 
Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”
“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?” 
“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice. 
“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly. 
“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.” 
Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. 
“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall. 
Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”  
More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?” 
Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.
The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning. 
You sighed and tried to go to sleep. 
Part 3
118 notes · View notes
atleastpleasetelephone · 3 days ago
Note
I cannot stop thinking about a BDE fluff/smut fic where he’s feeling down about his physical image, and the reader is shy and innocent but decides to try her hardest to make him feel better but is a little too awkward whilst trying, and he has to take over, and I thought you would write this wonderfully!
Bunny
A/N: Not sure if this answers the brief, but here we go anyway.
Pairing: BDE x reader
Word count: 2.4K
TWs: not much. Elvis is a little sad about getting older. A handjob.
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Your two friends both push you towards the stage.
“C’mon, he’s just there!”
You stumble forwards, splaying your hands on the top of the stage as you look up. He’s towering above you, like some sort of God, hips swaying back and forth to the music as he sings the last line of the song. You stare upwards, open-mouthed. He puts both arms in the air in a final dramatic gesture, and then looks down, spotting you. A little smile plays on his lips. You look so nervous, big brown eyes staring up at him like a frightened rabbit. He knows what to do. Dropping his arms he gets down on a knee right in front of you, and suddenly his face is just there, staring down into yours. You nibble on your lower lip as you stare back, and now he’s convinced you are a rabbit, caught in the headlights, unable to move.
“Hey darlin’,” he drawls, his hand reaching down for your shoulder.
“H-hi,” you whisper.
“Ya wanna scarf, honey? Or a kiss?” He pauses for a moment, studying your pretty little face. “Or both?”
“B-both.”
He chuckles as your fingers find the scarf already around his neck and grip it tightly. You might look like a scared little bunny rabbit but you’ve got a fierce grip and you know what you want.
“Alright then.”
He moves his hand to your face, cupping your cheek, and then presses his lips gently against yours. Even though the crowd is loud and the band is still playing the end of the song, he hears the little moan you make when he kisses you. Something stirs inside him at that little noise, and when he takes the scarf off his neck, he loops it around yours and uses it to pull you in for another kiss. He puts you off-balance, and when you catch yourself one of your hands lands on his thigh as his tongue pushes past your unresisting lips. You feel light-headed, trying to steady yourself as you feel his soft lips against yours and breathe in the smell of him. Musky and powdery and undeniably sexy. It might have been the second kiss but it still ends far too soon.
“Wait around after the show finishes, Joe’ll come an’ get ya,” he tells you, and then he’s standing up and talking into the mic, announcing the next song.
Your head spins. Wait for him? Joe will come and get you? Who is Joe? Where are you going?
“Ohmygod he kissed you!”
“Twice!”
“What was it like?”
“Look at the scarf!”
Your friends have a grip on each of your shoulders and they’re squealing and asking question after question without waiting for an answer.
“He told me to wait around after the show for Joe,” you mumble.
“He what? Ohmygod.”
Back at your table you try to concentrate on watching the rest of the show, but your friends are still asking you questions and your head is spinning trying to work out where Joe means to take you. You’re sure you see Elvis wink at you at some point, but everything is so confusing and overwhelming right now it seems more likely that the wink was meant for someone else.
The show finishes in a dramatic flurry of drum rolls and activity, Elvis down on one knee again, with his arms outspread this time, holding up his cape. You stare at him, trying to fix him in your memory in case you never see him again, and then just like that he’s gone. You sigh out the breath you’d been holding for the last minute or so and look around you at your friends, feeling like you’re coming out of a daze.
“Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“What d’you mean, that’s it? Joe’s coming for you.”
“I don’t even know who Joe is. I think we better go.”
You get up and pick up your jacket, shrugging it over your shoulders and ignoring your friends’ protests. It’s late. You should be getting back to your hotel room.
“Excuse me?”
You turn around, confronted by a slightly tubby-looking man in a hat. “Hello?”
“Hi honey, I’m Joe. Elvis sent me to get you.”
You freeze and just stare at him. Elvis sent him to get you? To get you for what? You can hear your friends chirping away excitedly about it but it sounds to you like they are getting very far away. You feel yourself wobble.
“Honey! Are you gonna faint?”
Joe’s arm is around your waist and he carefully eases you back into the chair you’d just got up out of.
“W-what does Elvis want?” You find yourself asking once you’ve had a moment to stop feeling quite so dizzy.
“He just wants to talk and get to know you better - he asked me to bring you up to his suite in the hotel.”
“Oh. Can I um… can I bring my friends?”
“Sure, of course.”
Your friends both try to tell you that they don’t need to come, since you’re the real Elvis fan and both of them suspect he wants something other than a friendly chat, but you refuse to go without them. Elvis is a little surprised to find three girls where he was expecting one, but he doesn’t show it. Instead he buzzes around being the perfect host, getting everyone drinks and introducing them to the other people in the suite. You’re a little surprised how big the suite is and how full of people it is too, and you do show it, your mouth falling open as you stare around the room. Elvis chuckles to himself. You really are very cute. He flits around the room talking to people and you’re surprised and a little disappointed not to get more of his attention. A couple of hours later you find yourself sitting on a sofa between Joe and one of Elvis’ backing singers. You’re not exactly a natural conversationalist, not with strangers anyway, and you can’t help feeling uncomfortable. Both of your friends are engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Elvis’ guitarist and you just feel overlooked. You get up and start to make your way towards the door, looking for your bag and jacket.
You’re halfway to the door when you feel a presence behind you.
“Ya wanna go somewhere a little more private, honey?” His voice is deep and smooth and somehow commanding. You feel like you can’t say no.
“Um… okay,” you whisper, turning to look at him.
You’d forgotten just how unbelievably gorgeous he is this close up and you almost faint on the spot. His arm slips around your back and pulls you towards him.
“Joe said ya were a fainter,” he says, with a smirk. “C’mon, I’ll take ya somewhere quiet where we can talk.”
You nod dumbly and let him lead you out of the main room and through a door into his bedroom. He feels you stiffen slightly and gently strokes your back with his hand.
“Let’s sit down.”
You settle on a sofa together and he immediately starts to ask you more about yourself. The several cocktails you’ve drunk have loosened you up a little, and even though Elvis is a stranger you find him easy to talk to. It’s just mundane stuff like your job and your family, but he seems genuinely interested. There’s a natural pause in the conversation and you look up into his face.
“Do you like touring?” You have no idea where that came from, but it’s out of your mouth now and you can’t get it back.
He reaches over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I sure do, honey,” he replies with a smile.
“You don’t miss home?”
Elvis swallows. You’re so sweet and innocent-seeming but somehow you’re coming out with these killer questions. No ‘what’s your favourite song to perform’ or ‘which jumpsuit do you like best?’ from you.
“I uh… of course I do…” he trails off and his eyes flick away from your face for the first time since you sat down.
“I suppose you’ve got a lot of your friends with you. That must be nice. It’s not like you could be lonely or anything like that.” Your mouth is genuinely running away with you now.
“I’m lonely sometimes,” he murmurs, still not looking at you. “Lonely and old. I turned 40 this year, y’know that, honey?”
You bite your lip and try to steal your nerve. You move a hand, hesitantly, towards his face, then rest it on his cheek. “Y-you don’t look 40.”
His eyes slowly flick back to your face and he gives you a lopsided grin. “Well thank ya honey. That’s kind a ya.” The smile falls from his face. “I feel it though. Not as lean as I used ta be.” He pulls his shades off and rubs his eyes. “Think I’m gettin’ wrinkles.”
You shift yourself a little closer to him and your fingers stroke the skin near the corners of one of his eyes. “Laughter lines,” you tell him, quietly.
The smile is back. “Ah guess so.” He puts his hand on top of yours and holds it still whilst he rubs his cheek against your palm. “Yer a lot chattier than I expected. Thought ya looked like a lil frightened bunny rabbit when I first saw ya.” He pulls your hand towards his lips now and kisses it.
You blush at the feeling and the intensity of his attention on you again. “I-I was nervous.”
He lets go of your hand and you let it fall back into your lap. “Nothin’ to be nervous about honey.” His hand cups your cheek as he leans forward and captures your lips in a kiss.
You feel yourself melting as he takes you in his arms, continuing to kiss you deeply. He’s warm and comforting and the smell of him surrounds you. You wish the kisses could go on forever, but he then pulls back and flops against the back of the sofa. Somehow the talk of loneliness and age has set up residence in his mind and he can’t seem to shake it.
“That was nice,” you tell him, if only to try and get his attention back on you again. It blinded you earlier but now you feel like you’re peering at him in the dark.
“Yeah it was,” he sighs in return, still not looking at you.
You bite your lip. You’ve not really done much with a man before. You know what’s what, but you usually just let them take the lead. But now, looking at him, you have this overwhelming urge to give him pleasure. There’s a sadness in his eyes as they stare vacantly across the room and you want to take it away. Your hand rests on his thigh as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek to gauge his reaction. When he doesn’t say anything you continue your kisses across his cheekbone and down under his ear as your hand creeps up his thigh. He’s just starting to process what’s happening when your hand finds his semi-hard dick and squeezes a little too enthusiastically.
“Honey!”
He damn near jumps in the air, his head spinning to look at you as his hand captures yours and pulls it off him.
“S-sorry,” you mumble.
He purses his lips a little, trying not to laugh. “Jus’ what were ya tryin’ ta do there, bunny?”
As if to validate the name he’s just given you, you stare at him in silent shock and wonder.
“Bunny?” You whisper, after some time.
“My little bunny wabbit.”
You blush again and look down at his lap, feeling terrible about how badly your attempt to please him had gone. And then you notice there’s a bulge in his pants that wasn’t there before. Your blush deepens.
He smirks a little watching your reaction to him. Taking your hand and carefully putting it back where it was, he helps you squeeze him gently this time. You look up slowly to find him staring at you with an intensity that makes you think he wants to consume you whole, then he’s kissing you again, his tongue pressing into your mouth. Letting you carry on gently squeezing him on your own, he unzips his pants and then takes your hand and helps you wrap it around his length. He moves your hand up and down on him a few times and then lets go.
Burned by your earlier experience, now you’re too gentle and he can barely feel you at all. Continuing to kiss you, his hand wraps around yours again and squeezes it.
“Jus’ a little more, bunny,” he murmurs against your lips.
You nod and dive back into his mouth with your tongue, enjoying the way he tastes, peppermint with a background of something sweeter. He eases your hand up and down a little faster, and helps you rub your thumb over the tip, dragging precum down the shaft to lubricate him. He keeps his hand around yours although you’re doing all the work now, wanting to keep the contact, his other hand buried in your hair. Pleasure builds inside him and blocks out all other thoughts, he just feels your touch, your lips, the wetness of your tongue. You smell like jasmine and your body is comfortingly warm against him. His eyes closed, he encourages your hand to speed up again, letting out an involuntary moan as you do.
You feel his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling it a little, almost hurting you as you keep pumping him faster and faster. His body tenses and then you hear a little whine as his lips leave yours and his head tips back, making contact with the back of the sofa. You look down at the whitish fluid spurting out of his dick and his hand still around yours as you milk the rest of it out of him. Your hand slows down and then stops, and you lean forward to press kisses to his jaw. He sits there in bliss, eyes still closed, feeling and not thinking.
Your fingers knit together with his now your hand isn’t around his dick anymore. He breathes out a gentle sigh.
“Thanks Bunny. Ya made me feel 21 again fer a minute there.”
***
Taglist:
@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978
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famoussharkhairdoknight · 2 days ago
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Where Goodbyes Fade~Jude Bellingham
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The rain pounded against the car windows as I drove towards Jude’s house. We’d gone out to dinner for what was supposed to be the last time. After months of trying and endless discussions, we had decided to end things. It just wasn’t working anymore—or at least, that’s what we kept telling ourselves.
I parked outside his house. I sat there, hands gripping the wheel, staring at his front door. I should have just left, said goodbye, and moved on. But something held me back.
Finally, I sighed and got out of the car. Jude opened the door just as I knocked, and despite the grey sky and the tired look on his face, he had that faint, familiar smile.
“I thought you’d already gone,” he said, looking at me with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
“Yeah… I thought so too,” I replied, holding my breath as our eyes met. It felt like it had been ages since we’d looked at each other that way.
“What made you come back?” he asked, and I heard a note of hope in his voice, even though he tried to hide it.
I shook my head, unable to give him a clear answer. “I don’t know. It just felt like… something was missing,” I whispered.
He looked down and gestured for me to come inside. He closed the door behind me, and the silence in the room became heavy. I felt more vulnerable than ever. We looked at each other for a moment without saying anything, but there was so much between us that every word seemed unnecessary.
After a long pause, Jude stepped closer. “So… we should say goodbye, right?”
The words hit me, but I nodded weakly, trying to seem sure of myself. “Yes, it would be… better for both of us.”
“Better?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe that word. “God, do you really think this is the right thing?”
“I don’t know, Jude. We’ve tried so many times… we’ve been at this point for too long.”
He took a step back, running a hand through his hair—a gesture I knew well. “Maybe we’re just afraid to go all the way. Maybe we never allowed ourselves to truly surrender to each other,” he said in a low voice, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
I moved closer to him, looking into his eyes. “Jude, if there are things we haven’t said… it’s time to say them.”
He was silent for a moment, then moved his hand to my face, brushing a strand of hair aside. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered hoarsely, his words thick with an emotion I couldn’t ignore.
“Stop it…” I replied in a low voice, but without any conviction. My heart was pounding, as if it had been waiting to hear exactly that.
“Will you really miss me?” he asked, almost as a challenge, and I saw the determination in his eyes, that same spark that had made me fall in love with him.
“Every single day,” I answered, unable to hold back the truth any longer.
Suddenly, Jude stepped even closer, so close that our breaths mingled. I could feel his warmth, his familiar scent, and every fiber of my being cried out for him.
“Tell me you hate me, if that’s really what you want,” he whispered, his lips just a breath away from mine. “Tell me you don’t need me anymore.”
“I can’t,” I answered, and in that moment, all my determination collapsed. His hands found my cheeks, and the world seemed to stop.
Suddenly, his face was so close that he was all I could see, his lips finding mine in a kiss loaded with everything we had kept hidden for far too long. His arms wrapped around me, and I held onto him as if he were the only thing that mattered.
After a moment, we pulled apart, breathless, but he still held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear at any second.
“I can’t let you go,” he murmured, his face tense with genuine pain.
“Neither can I,” I replied, unable to hold back the tears. “Maybe we need each other more than we want to admit.”
He smiled, brushing his lips against mine once more. “Then let’s stay. Let’s put away every doubt and this time… really give it a shot.”
And in that moment, I realized that sometimes, even when you think you want to close a door, your heart knows the right choice all along.
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schemmentigfs · 1 day ago
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Sweetening The Deal. (part 3.)
Summary: Melissa reflects about the possible changes between the two of you that the sugar mommy deal bought. After spending the night at her penthouse, you have a weird dream about the redhead....
tags: @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @greencurlyhair @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic
Part 1. Part 2.
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Melissa groaned as the early morning sunlight pierced through the slits in the blinds. She rolled over, already dreading the reality of waking up. The events of the previous night—everything about it, from the dinner to the lingering almost kiss—played through her mind again, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and you. It was too soon to tell if it was a shift for the better, but it was certainly a shift all the same.
The redhead’s muscles protested as she pushed herself up, running a hand through her messy hair. It wasn’t like her to be so off-balance, but there was something about you that rattled her in a way she hadn’t expected. You were bratty. Unpredictable. A puzzle she was both annoyed and intrigued by. And despite herself, she found herself almost caring about the small details—like how you’d looked at her last night or how your voice had softened when you spoke to her.
She carefully slid out of bed, wincing at the stiffness in her back from the night’s sleep. She glanced over at the guest bedroom door, half-wondering if she’d wake you up with her movements. She didn’t want to disturb you, not just yet. You had seemed so vulnerable when you’d finally fallen asleep last night, and the thought of you waking up in a strange place made her feel protective—though she hated admitting it.
Slowly, the older woman padded to your room, peeking through the crack in the door. There you were, lying on your back, arm thrown over the edge of the bed, eyes shut in deep slumber. You looked so innocent, nothing like the woman who’d made her life so much more complicated in such a short time.
Melissa leaned down slightly, brushing a hand across your arm, feeling the warmth of your skin under her touch. She didn’t let herself linger long, though, pulling away almost immediately. She was a little surprised at how soft your skin felt. The woman she’d been dealing with for the past few days, who had given her nothing but trouble and attitude, was here now, looking almost angelic in sleep. She huffed quietly, stepping back toward the door.
“You’re so fucking bratty,” she muttered under her breath, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “And you’re making me care. I don’t like this.”
Before the redhead could react, you kicked the blanket and that’s when she caught a glimpse of your underwear—dark lace peeking out from under the hem of your oversized shirt. Green eyes widened briefly, her heart pounding before she immediately closed them, unwilling to let herself get lost in the distraction. Focus, Schemmenti. Focus. You can’t look at this little stinker like it is a meal. You are not a damn wild animal.
Opening her eyes and cleaning her thoart, she pulled the door closed gently behind her and tiptoed downstairs, hoping the solitude of the kitchen would give her a moment to clear her head. But she wasn’t alone.
Suddenly, the faint sound of clattering pots echoed from the giant kitchen again and again. Melissa let out a low groan, recognizing the noise immediately.
“Shit,” the woman sighed softly, already feeling the headache return. “Cavolo, stai scherzando.”
Descending the stairs, she heard Pearl, her elderly housekeeper and longtime friend, bustling around as if she were still on the clock. Despite being retired for almost a decade, she had made a habit of showing up unannounced, whether it was to check on Melissa, water her plants, or, as she put it, “make sure you’re not making a mess of yourself, piccola.”
The only problem about the sixty nine year old woman was that she was always early. The retired housekeeper-turned-mentor had an uncanny ability to show up before anyone was awake. She had taken care of the redhead for years, practically raising her as a daughter of her own, and now, even in her retirement, the older woman found ways to make herself useful—perhaps a bit too useful for Melissa Schemmenti’s liking.
The redhead tried not to wince as she descended the last step, her joints protesting as the smell of scrambled eggs and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the kitchen. Pearl was already busy at the stove, flipping pancakes with her practiced ease, the lines of her face softened with a contented smile as she worked. Melissa’s heart softened, despite her earlier irritation at being woken up this early. She couldn’t help but feel a warmth for this woman who’d cared for her all these years.
“Morning, Missy,” Pearl greeted, barely turning from her task. Using the childhood nickname that the heiress of the Schemmentis hated. “You look like you had a rough night.”
“Didn’t think anyone else would be awake yet,” the green eyed woman muttered, crossing to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would help shake off the lingering fog. “Especially you, coming so soon.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” the housekeeper replied with her usual warmth, her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. “Got up to make sure you had a proper breakfast. Since I know you aren’t eating properly due to menopause. And your night escapes to some bars.”
“You don’t need to act like my ma.” Melissa scoffs, rolling her eyes annoyed. Before she could answer again, she groaned feeling hot.
Pearl’s sharp caramel eyes glanced her over knowingly. “Forgot your medication, didn’t you?” she asked, her tone a gentle scold. “And don’t tell me you didn’t, Melissa Ann. I know that look.”
Melissa grimaced, rubbing her forehead. “I was just going to take it now,” she said, her voice defensive. She rummaged in the cabinet above the sink, pulling down a small pill bottle labeled with her name. The eldest raised a skeptical eyebrow as she uncapped it and dry-swallowed one of the pills.
Pearl set down her spatula and crossed her arms, her gaze softening. “Are you taking care of yourself, Mel? I know menopause isn’t easy, especially for someone like you who tries to carry the world on her shoulders.” Her voice held a rare gentleness, a tone reserved for the few times she’d allowed herself to acknowledge Melissa’s various struggles over the years. Some of those being her depression episodes, marriage trauma and family problems since her Nonna’s passing.
The forty-five year old’s shoulders slumped a bit. “It’s… it’s fine. Really. Just some hot flashes here and there. Dryness. And headaches. And—” She cut herself off, sighing as she realized she was about to list off all the symptoms she’d been dealing with lately.
“Mm-hmm,” Pearl replied, clearly unconvinced. She took out her own bottle of medication from her purse on the counter and handed it to Melissa, who dutifully placed it in a nearby drawer with Pearl’s name on it. “Now, what about you?” she pressed, her tone half-teasing but her eyes serious. “I didn’t expect to find a guest here this morning.”
She let out a sharp sign, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like that. She’s… young, yeah, but it’s different this time.”
“Oh, a young woman now,” Pearl noted, raising her eyebrows in amusement. “Not like that young man last time—what was his name? The one who didn’t know what he was doing in bed if it saved his life.”
At this, Melissa’s cold face twisted in a grimace, the unfortunate horrified memory flashing in her mind. “Don’t remind me,” she whispered, almost shuddering. She remembered that boy fumbling, more nervous than he had any right to be, and how disappointed she’d felt through sex. “This one’s different, though. It’s… a sort of arrangement. You could call it a sugar mommy and sugar baby thing, I guess.”
The brown haired gave her a look, equal parts surprise and amusement. “A sugar mommy thing? With all due respect, Melissa, you don’t have enough patience for that sort of thing.”
She crossed her arms. “She’s bratty, I’ll admit that. But she’s… I don’t know, she’s different. I’m trying not to think too hard about it.”
Pearl shook her head, her mouth set in a knowing line. “You know your family won’t like this,” she said quietly. “You know how they can be about anything that doesn’t fit the mold.”
“They already don’t like half of what I do. What’s one more thing?”
Before the housekeeper could respond, a soft whimper floated down from upstairs. Melissa hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the stairs. She’d heard you tossing and turning all night, the sounds muffled but constant, each soft shift catching her attention as she lay in bed. She’d even considered coming to check on you during the whole night, maybe sleeping on a armchair next to the closet but something held her back. Now, hearing your faint whimper, she couldn’t ignore the stir of worry creeping up.
“Poor thing was restless all night,” she muttered to herself, sighing as she forced herself to stay seated. “Couldn’t keep still for a second, that little troublemaker.” The nickname slipped out, soft but affectionate, as if the word had formed on her tongue before she realized it.
Pearl looked at her with a knowing smile. “Ah, so you were listening,” she teased, folding her arms as she watched Melissa try to feign indifference.
The Italian scoffed, shrugging in a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, well… couldn’t exactly ignore it. She was moving so much, I half expected her to fall out of bed.”
Meanwhile, you tossed and turned, trapped in a fevered dream that felt all too real. The sheets tangled around your silhouette, your breathing shallow as you tried to escape the sensations pulling at your mind. In the dream, Melissa was there, her figure pressed tightly against yours, the heat between you building as her green eyes locked onto yours with that hungry, predatory glint that always sent a shiver down your spine. Her auburn hair was falling messily around her shoulders as she leaned over you.
The redhead was grunting softly, her breath warm against your neck as she ground her plump hips against yours, pressing her chest closer until the friction between your clits was almost overwhelming.
“Mm, c’mon… just like that,” she whimpered, each word dripping with raw desire. “Feel that, huh? God, you’re a mess for me, aren’t you?”
You moaned, feeling the pressure grow, her words sinking into you, making every nerve in your body come alive. Her manicured hands gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as she rocked faster against you, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that had you panting while the bed cracked softly. “You like that? Can't even keep quiet, can you?”
“Please..”
“God, you’re so needy,” she mocked, her tone laced with a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. Her lips brushed against your ear, her hot breath making your entire body tingle. “When I’m done with you here. I’m gonna eat that pretty cunt of yours until you’re begging me to stop.”
She rasped, pressing harder.
Your hands clawed at her back, every inch of your body aching for her as she took control, her voice a seductive murmur that drove you wild. “You’ll be so wrecked, you won’t be able to think about anything else. Just Mommy.”
“Gonna make you cum, sweetheart?” She grabbed your neck, grinding faster and faster. The friction was driving you to the edge, and you could feel yourself trembling, every nerve on fire. You were so close, the sensation building until you thought you might break.
“Mommy— shit. I… I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, voice barely more than a whimper as your body arched beneath her, completely lost in the moment. Her strong hand tightened, grounding you as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, shuddering with pleasure—
Then, abruptly, you jolted awake, your breath catching as the remnants of the dream slipped away. Disoriented, you blinked at the ceiling, your heart pounding as the heat of embarrassment flooded your face. Shifting slightly, you felt the unmistakable dampness beneath you and glanced down, realizing with horror that you’d left a very obvious wet spot on the bed.
“Shit,” you whispered, mortified, scrambling to sit up, only for the sheets to tangle around your legs. You stumbled in your hurry, slipping off the edge of the bed and landing on the floor with a loud thud. “Oh, God—shit, shit!”
The noise must have been louder than you thought, because within seconds, you heard the footsteps rushing up the stairs. Before you could even process what to do, the door burst open, and there stood Melissa, eyes wide with alarm, closely followed by someone that you didn’t knew.
“What happened?” The older woman demanded, her gaze darting over you as you sat on the floor, cheeks flaming, trying to gather yourself.
Looking up, you gulped. Fascinated by the one and only Melissa Schemmenti in front of you. She’s wearing a bright, colorful outfit that combines a green and yellow floral-patterned cardigan over a teal top. Her pants are pink with a large floral design, adding to the bold color palette.
“Y/N?” she asked again, frowning. “What is wrong?”
You fumbled, not sure how to even begin explaining, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried to act casual—despite the very obvious wet patch visible on the sheets. “I—I, um, I was… I mean, I just—uh, bad dream! Yeah. Bad dream,” you stammered, trying to brush it off, but the redness on your face betrayed you.
The shorter woman arched a brow, her expression both amused and skeptical. “Bad dream, huh?” she quips, crossing her arms as she gave you a once-over.
You bit your lip, scrambling for any excuse that didn’t sound utterly mortifying. “Uh! Like… uh… giant spiders? Huge ones. They were all over the room,” you said, clearly flustered, and added, “Super terrifying. And I guess I, um, kicked myself out of bed.”
Melissa raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching like she was trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh. Spiders,” she repeated, clearly unconvinced.
You could feel yourself turning bright red under her gaze, every attempt to come up with a coherent explanation slipping away as you grew more embarrassed. “It’s… um… it’s complicated. You know, just… spiders everywhere,” you continued, waving your hand in a vague, desperate attempt to salvage your dignity.
The housekeeper shook her head, chuckling softly. “Looks like someone’s still half-asleep. Well, dear,” she said, turning to the redhead with a smirk, “seems your little friend had quite the night.”
Melissa coughed, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “Maybe you oughta get a handle on those… nightmares?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands, utterly mortified.
Noticing your discomfort, your sugar mommy huffed, pushing Pearl away. She turned to her old friend, fixing her with a pointed look. “You’ve done enough meddling for one morning, Pearly. Go get yourself a coffee or something—and don’t eavesdrop, alright? Come on, get out. I’m sure you’ve got something else to do—like… I don’t know, gardening or making some pasta?”
Pearl held up her hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it,” she spoke, casting a knowing glance before heading out, muttering something about the “privileges of the rich.” As she disappeared down the hallway, Melissa rolled her olive eyes and turned back to you with a reassuring smile.
“Pearl’s been around forever,” she explained. “She was practically my second mom growing up. A little nosy, but she means well.” With a shrug, she softened, her tone growing gentle. “But enough about her. I figured now’s as good a time as any to talk about you settling into your new place. I know moving’s a process, but we’re close. By the end of next week, everything should be ready for you to be officially out of that fucking apartment.”
You nodded, the tension in your shoulders easing as you let the idea sink in. You’d been living in a cramped, rundown place for far too long, and the thought of moving somewhere safer, somewhere luxurious, almost didn’t feel real. “I… I appreciate it, Melissa. Really.”
Melissa waved a hand, brushing off the thanks as if it were nothing. “It’s the least I can do. But I thought we’d get a head start on things today, get you acquainted with my place since you are going to stay here until the moving process is over. C’mon, let me give you the grand tour to your temporary home.”
She motioned for you to follow, leading you through the spacious, elegant penthouse. Every corner of the place felt like it was straight out of a magazine—the polished marble floors, the sweeping floor-to-ceiling windows with a stunning city view, and the sleek, modern furniture that seemed like it was made to perfection. She pointed out the essentials as you moved from room to room, each space more luxurious than the last.
“This here’s the kitchen,” she said, stopping by a gorgeous open space outfitted with the latest stainless steel appliances and a massive marble island. “Anything you need in here, just ask. I’ve got a personal chef who stops by now and then, so if cooking’s not your thing, don’t worry.”
You followed along in awe, nodding as she led you past the living room, that you saw yesterday which was filled with plush furniture and enough space to entertain a whole party. After covering every corner of the penthouse—from the extravagant master bathroom, equipped with a jacuzzi tub, to the private gym—Melissa finally turned to you with a satisfied smile.
“Alright, now that you’ve seen the whole place,” the redhead starts, resting a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder, “it’s time we get you properly settled. How about a little shopping trip to pick out whatever you need?”
You felt your cheeks warm as her hand lingered, the sensation grounding and reassuring. “Yeah, I could use some essentials… maybe a few things to make it feel like home. And I could use some new clothes..”
“Good. Then let’s get going. We’ve got a lot to cover, and I don’t want any more interruptions.” With a final pat on your shoulder, she led the way to the door, her presence steady and confident by your side.
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yan-randomfandom · 2 days ago
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Yandere!Ekko x GN!Reader Headcanons
a/n: i watched arcane in perfect timing cuz i didnt even know s2 was comin out the next week 😭
If there was anything else Ekko loved as much as freedom, it would be coming home to you.
You'd be there, laughing with the Firelights, completely safe from all the danger up above.
Ekko had vowed to protect you from the moment he saved you as kids. The memory of your desperate sobs and tight grip, pleading for dear life, was obsessively burned in his mind.
Behind closed doors, he's nothing but an absolute softie. As soft as he can be anyway, because for some reason, you can't seem to find him anything but endearing.
Always a smile on your face whenever you give him a hug. He'd return the favor every time. "Touch starved sucker," you'd tease, to which he just rolls his eyes.
He also started helping you train. To your annoyance, before he even agreed, you had to convince him quite a bit.
"Look, I can protect you myself—" You shook your head. This was unusual for him. "Ekko. Self defense, man?"
Hesitant. That's how he felt. He knew what you were feeling nowadays, and he only wanted to delay the inevitable.
Still, with each day he trained you, the closer you two became. It grew harder for him to ignore his overwhelming feelings for you.
"Food?" you smiled, offering him a bowl. "The kids helped me cook this. Better compliment 'em."
With a hum, Ekko held the bowl over as he leaned over the balcony, feeding himself a spoonful. You peacefully dealt with your own bowl next to him.
...Something's wrong. You're quiet. Ekko slowly stopped eating, choosing to watch you instead. His eyes twitched in uncertainty as he stared at you.
"Spit it out," he scoffed suddenly, licking his lips. "You want something."
You looked up and met his gaze. Ekko's gaze was piercing, his voice rough. For whatever reason, he was on edge.
"I want to join the missions," you finally answered.
... Ekko let out a short laugh. He knew it. This was the question he'd been dreading. Seriously. You? Up there? In that sad excuse of a dumpster? He couldn't imagine it. He really, really couldn't.
You always were a problem solver. Observant and quick-thinking, you helped him with certain missions even when you weren't present.
His stare on you intensified, thickening the tension in the air. A shiver crawled down your spine; it was rare to see him wear this expression around you.
Despite everything, freedom was something he valued the most. He'd agree to what you wanted.
But know this: you’re not allowed to leave his sight. It was imperative that you always stayed close to him. He would go to hell and back just to find you.
And if you ever came close to death? Rest assured, you’d never leave home again. No arguments.
"It's for the best," said Ekko. "You'll be safe here."
ekko being a yandere is pretty straightforward i fear
btw click on the gif creator to find ekko fluff if you haven't seen it already:3c
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allwaswell16 · 2 days ago
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[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]
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Iconic fics by ...
- disgruntledkittenface -
[1]
“So,” he says casually, looking from Nick back to Louis, “you and Nick didn’t come back to the bar last night.”
And the sentence just hangs in the air between them, like an accusation. Louis can practically see the effort Harry’s putting in to keep his face neutral, but the intense frog expression creeps its way back in. And suddenly Louis get it.
Harry is jealous.
He wants to laugh. It’s preposterous to think of, being jealous of Nick of all people. Nick who can see Louis’ feelings for Harry written all over his face and in everything he does.
“Yeah, after we went for a smoke, I just felt like going home,” Louis explains, biting back a smile. Knowing he’s not being clear enough, he continues, “Nick just walked with me, stretching those ridiculous legs of his, I guess, but Liam picked him up as soon as we got back to my apartment building.”
Harry is still glowering. It’s ridiculous. It’s so fucking cute. Louis is so fucked.
[2]
“I do! We do,” Harry says, looking at Louis, who smiles warmly at him. “I just always thought I would adopt, but I guess I see the issues here for, like… succession?”
“Yes, my successor has to be a biological relative,” Louis says gently. “Lottie wants no part of it, that’s why she was so eager to donate eggs. And I’m not sure if she’ll have children of her own.”
“It is actually a matter of state,” Hervé adds, not unkindly. “Securing the line of succession secures Monaco’s status as an independent principality. If there is no biological heir, upon the prince’s passing then the state would be absorbed by France.”
“Oh, fuck,” Nick mutters, summing up how Harry feels. Well, he wasn’t wrong when he tried to tell Harry what a big fucking deal all of this would be. 
[3]
“Sorry to bother,” he says lowly, dripping sarcasm. “But would you mind shutting the fuck up? You’re ruining the show for the rest of us with your passive-aggressive bullshit.”  
Harry automatically twists around to see the couple’s response; it looks like husband is gearing up for a retort, but there are quiet murmurs of agreement from the people around them, and the man on his seatmate’s other side even claps him on the back in thanks. Chagrined, the couple slump down in their seats, their lips unhappily sealed.
Harry turns to the man next to him, who’s already looking at him from under the smudge of long, dark lashes that frame his blue eyes. A slow grin overtakes Harry’s face as he meets the man’s steady gaze. For once his words don’t fail him, and he leans in just close enough so the man will be able to hear him as he whispers “thank you.”
[4]
“Is that another new tattoo, Z?” she asks, reaching out and gently turning Zayn’s arm to get a better look. “Oh, yin yang, right?”
Louis immediately squeezes Harry’s thigh, turning to her with wide eyes, but Harry’s too busy fishing for a thin slice of cucumber at the bottom of her glass to register what’s happening. Zayn is still holding her arm out so Liam can see the tattoo when she glances up and Louis pointedly looks from her to the tattoo and back again. Harry’s confused face is adorable, she looks like a disgruntled kitten trying to surmise what Louis is attempting to silently communicate. It takes a minute, but understanding finally dawns in her eyes and she claps her large hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
“What?” Zayn asks, throwing a dirty look at them.
“Nothing,” Louis manages in a strangled voice. “Nothing! Great tattoo. Harry? Shall we?”
- Answers Below -
[1] you came into my life
They stand around talking for a minute and then Jonathan starts to ramble, “Has there ever been, like, an unrequited gay love story in here? Like a Brokeback Mountain moment where, like, someone just fell in love and they didn’t mean to?”
Louis feels bile rise in his throat as Jonathan’s eyes sparkle, pleading for a yes. He manages to look around and see thoughtful looks on his coworkers’ faces before their heads shake no.
“Not here,” Liam says finally.
When the Queer Eye cast and crew sweep into Louis’ small town and fire station to make over his best friend and coworker Liam, Louis’ carefully constructed walls start to fall down and he has to face his fears – and the only guy he’s ever been able to see a future with.
[2] Darling, so it goes
Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong.
He just needs Louis to meet him halfway.
Grace Kelly AU.
[3] just one look (and i fell so hard)
Louis takes a small step back, breaking the moment first. “Well, I should–” 
“Do you want to come up?” 
The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’d even planned them, and he bites his lip.  
“Oh, thank god,” Louis laughs, stepping back into Harry’s space. “I wasn’t, um…” 
“Wasn’t ready to let go of you yet,” Harry finishes quietly, glancing up at Louis. 
“Yeah,” Louis nods, reaching up and twirling one of Harry’s curls in his fingers. “Yeah, exactly.”
Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.
[4] i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine
Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.
Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?
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majedgerbawi · 3 days ago
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To every kind heart, to everyone who carries compassion and humanity within them,
Today, I write to you as a father who lost everything in a moment of chaos and violence. It has been a full year since we lost our home—the refuge that once sheltered my family and embraced us with warmth and safety. Our home was not just walls; it was a part of our souls, a place where we wove our dreams, and where my children dreamed of a better future.😔
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In one harrowing moment, all those memories vanished under the rubble of bombing, and our home turned into ruins that took with it every cherished moment we lived. The destruction was not limited to our house; it extended to shattering the sense of security in the hearts of my children, who suddenly found themselves facing a harsh reality filled with fear and anxiety. They lost their childhood, their safety, and even the freedom to dream as they once did.🥺
Today, I write to you as a father, helpless before the needs of his children, yet holding onto the hope that my plea will resonate with your compassionate hearts. My greatest wish is to be able to secure a safe haven for them—a shelter that restores some semblance of the life they lost and erases a part of the pain they endured. I beg you to extend a helping hand to us, to be the reason that hope returns to my children’s faces, those who have known nothing but the suffering of displacement and the loss of dreams.🙏🏻🇵🇸🇵🇸
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Thank you for reading our story. Your kindness, no matter how small, can help rebuild the lives of children who deserve a chance at peace and happiness. Your generosity means more than words can say, offering hope and the possibility of a brighter tomorrow.🙌🏼💓💓
🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
https://gofund.me/abbc2759
Vetted by @allthecryingdragons @bilal-salah0
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fishsinsareacknowledged · 2 days ago
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"Honey I'm home", but you don't remember taking a lover for tonight. Everything's been hectic and a cults been stalking you down so-
"Honey I'm home", it calls again. Trying out the words in its tongue and its coming from your seaside window. A shadowing voice when you peer out no one's there and the voice quiets down just for a moment. A moment too long, its like the voice was always there, just louder now. Then it went. Absolute silence. Was it only you and the stars when you touch the window?
"Honey, I'm home", but its sick, twisted. Much clearer than you've ever heard it and its right behind you.
There's nothing there again until your eyes clear up and finally recognize it isn't the darkness of the room. Then suddenly everything blinded you, it was bright. 
"Is this a better setting, honey?", the word sounded wrong to your ears, like a needle made to dig under your skin so perfectly, removed then set back into place. A bleeding wound stopped and deepened.
"Who are you?", instictive human curiousity, it slipped out before you could process it. Of course you were curious on whoever broke into your cabin and held your arms by your elbows. A hold so gentle a hold nonetheless. You didn't want to look up. He was most definitely taller than you and you could already feel his stare on the back of your head. Like he could see your soul.
"Mine?", he said it so simply too as if it was meant to be. It wasn't an answer, a statement that chilled your ears. Arms in mindless unsynchronization moved up your elbows to your arms, sliding and feeling under the cloth. Pressing down your elbows and circling around and gentler to your neck. Featherlight yet all surrounding, like his skin couldn't ever part from yours,  "Mine", he said again feeling the word out. Like it was right, it fit into your mind like gloves to his hands. 
"I think you have the wrong person", you must be. you don't remember meeting anyone taller than you nor anyone at all, you've been locked up in the past few days.
"Is that so?, then why won't you look at me? Let me see you", he's torturing you he must be. Like a pawn in his circus. The only way out was to play. So you turn to look at him and everything's all dark again, you can't see anything but those killing eyes. Pin sharp to the surface of your skin and skinning the surface when his hands slide down to the very top of your ribcage.
"Ah that's right, you must not be mine", he says noncommitally, as if you were an insignificant being. He was in a way much more significant. A height that towered over you, you could count his eyelashes when they were backened by the whites of his eyes. His hands released you and you didn't even realize you were holding in any breaths until you were heaving, unrelenting voice in your mind to never show your back to him. 
"I'm yours", his hands clasp around you again like a vice, holding you by your waist. Firm, tight grip that feels up every inch of your body without moving. Pulling you closer by a hand that just feels right at the curve of your spine. Hugging you softly, gently and clutching onto you like you were the first gift he's ever gotten.
A voice brushes over your eyes like a spell that puts you steadfast to sleep. In a moment's notice your body's not yours anymore. Turned into a doll you can feel through while he pets your hair like one. 
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blueishspace · 2 days ago
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Hero, Villain, God 3
(Prev) (Next) (First)
*Grian's pov*
Being Poultryman was more fun then you thought it would be and that's saying a lot considering you already had high expectations. These last few days have been the most fun you have had in the last 10 billion years! It's just so different to actually be involved directly... People actually thank you for trowing eggs at other people.
And now you went one step further then just trowing eggs at criminala, you managed to fill mayor Ren's house with chickens! Every single room is filled witch chickens. Bathroom? Chickens. Kitchen? Chickens. Weird suspicious basement permeated with metallic scent? You better believe it, that's filled with chickens too.
You honestly can't wait for his reaction...
Thinking about it, it's weird how little surveilance the mayor has in his house... you got in without having to use any divine ability except for those that make up Poultryman's powers. And you would have gotten away with it too if it hadn't been for him.
"Stop righg there, scoundrel!" It's Hotguy to interrupt if it wasn't clear, you don't see why the hero association would send the number one hero after you but this is going to be fun. Any other god would have just smited him for interrupting but that would just be...so boooring. No, you are going to punish him in a much more... subtle way... ...Mentally.
"Hello there, Averageguy" You can see him process what you said in real time.
"It's Hotguy! Not ...that!"
"So narcisistic, no no no, you really need to chill down or I'll have to demote you to Mediocreguy"
"MEDIOCRE!? You can't just demote me!" Oh, he is fun, he's so sensitive to mockery.
"Too bad, you are Mediocreguy now, told you that you needed to chill down and you didn't listen".
At that he starts chasing you, took him long enough to remember his job is to catch you, of course you aren't going to be catched that easily. You are stil agod after all.
"I'll have you know I'm very chill you pesky bird!" Pesky bird? That's a new one.
"You are neither chill nor hot" You jump in the air and land behind him. "More of Lukewarmguy really".
Well, you could just lose him now but you wanna have a bit more fun before you leave.
"Come back here! You oversized chicken!"
Well now he's going to get egged, he brought it upon himself really- oh? One moment... You perceive a woman reporting for live television nearby... You suddenly have a devious idea and ou lunge towards her general direction.
*The following Clip was taken from Hermitopia Daily*
"-Shareholders predict that the new policy will be a strong step foward towards-"
*Suddenly a chicken themed man jumps in in the middle of the live recording*
"Hello there spectators! Sorry to interrupt!"
"P-poultry man!?"
*The man in the chicken costume turns towards the camera and takes out like ten 100 dollar bills*
"Hey mate, I'll give you these if you let me borrow that camera for a few seconds"
*The camera men speaks in the background*
"Huh...just don't break it? Please?"
"Thanks!"
*There is some shaking as Poultryman takes the camera and points it towards a very angry and tired looking Hotguy.*
"And there folks at home we have Loserguy."
"LOSERGUY!?"
"I know, before meeting you I thought you were cool too! Never meet your heroes they say, that's because they are very underwhelming."
*Hotguy jumps towards the camera, there's some more shaking and then the camera is pointing towards an Hotguy whose face is faceplanted onto the ground and who is groaning onto the floor*
"Well ... first of all, attacking me? That was rude. Second of all, if you are going to jump someone at least don't fall, It's just embarassing."
*Hotguy gets up with another frustrated groan and takes out his bow and arrow*
...
"Well, time to give back the camera to it's owner! Wouldn't want an arrow to break it after all!"
"You! Come back here!"
"Toodles Cringeguy!"
*The feed cuts for a few seconds, once everything is back online Hotguy is looking around like he's searching for something and Poultryman is gone... The reporter seems to snap out of her shock, the clip ends*
*Scar's pov*
You feel like a misbehaving child waiting for punishment, you are sitting in Cub's lab and he's frantically walking back and forth.
"It ... It wasn't that bad?" You don't know why you try to argue, you regret it immediately.
"Not that bad?! Scar- *sigh*"
Ok so maybe it was, but you can't stand the idea of Cub being mad at you... Or even worse: disappointed in you.
"I'll just...catch him next time! Yeah!"
"Not only did you fail you task, not only did you push yourself way too much AGAIN but you made a fool out of yourself on LIVE TELEVISION Scar. Do you even know how much respectability you lost because of this?"
Ok... Maybe It's better if you just don't speak...
"The screenshot of you laying on the ground is now a meme template! I don't even know how that has already happened since It's been two hours at most."
Still, you will catch that Pesky bird, no one calls you Cringeguy.
*Grian's pov*
...
You're the one that started the Hotguy template, you don't regret it one bit.
...
The internet is having a field day with it, Hotguy's pr team is definitely not.
...
This is so much fun already.
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