#and they make me cry with them EVERY TIME

[red-phantom-0]

Lone Warrior

summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

a/n : this story is a wip ( work in process )

Reader's POV

Beginning

Everyone knows biologically , a child needs a father and mother to come into existence . Growing up I had exactly that , a mother and a father . I had what many would consider a good childhood , a mom who brushed my hair everyday before I went to school , a mother who would have prepared meals and would have read me several stories . I had a father who would pick me up everyday and let me get a treat from the nearby parlor everyday after school. We certainly weren’t rich but we had enough to make do and I was content with it - I was content with my life until life struck.

My mother got laid off from her job - it was some run down mill cashier job at an old mechanics pit stop but it brought in money no matter how grimy the place was . I remember my younger self sat in front of the television when it was broadcasted - Joker , Prince of Gotham held three hostages at gunpoint in the shops and sadly despite Batman’s efforts , one hostage suffered a car falling onto their legs - crushing them instantly - the news anchor panned their camera onto the car and how it’s green front bumper was smeared in crimson blood.

Since then mom had been home while father went to work . It was fun at first , we had dinner earlier than usual , mom started back sewing and she even took up gardening since she loved planting tomatoes in our backyard garden . Everything was good but gradually - mom began feeling trapped like a bird in a cage . It started off slow - mum and dad arguing every night after dinner , sneering at each other as they walked past one another . It evolved into dad sleeping on the couch and mom sleeping in their bed . I was young and too naive - I assumed like the silly little girl I was , that mum and dad were just arguing about the dishes in the sink.

One day, it got extremely bad. It was a Tuesday morning and I had ran into mum’s arm’s , comb in hand, waiting for her to brush my hair like every other morning but instead she screamed at me to get out of her face . I ran away, of course, crying and brushing my own hair since then. Every day since that point had been utter agony - mother grew even more distant - began shouting , screaming at everything and everybody .Every day was a new struggle , she had no luck finding a new job, and there was no luck of her getting any better .

One day , dad just hugged me before he left out the front door . He kept muttering ‘sorrys’ and ‘i love yous’ and he kept weeping . I recall hugging him back , telling him it was okay, and he just smiled at me and left . He hadn't come back since. Mother grew furious that night, and for the first time - she screamed at me , blamed me , cursed me , cried about how I ruined everything, and then she choked me . I remember my young , frail body clawing at her tight grip desperately - pleading with her to let me go, but she didn’t let up . She kept squeezing me, and I remember going in between conscious and unconsciousness - I remember hearing police sirens blazing in front of our house.

I don't remember anything after that point . Memories were all a blur, but I recall a police officer handing me off to Mr. Wayne at his porch step. I remember the look of uncertainty, the look of pain and burden flashing in his eyes when he looked down on me . I remember him holding me by my elbow and guiding me through his foyer until he reached his butler.

I watched them both converse , the butler glanced at me every other moment. Eventually , Mr. Wayne leaves me alone with the butler and returns deeper into the mansion. The butler smiles down at me, though, and I just looked at him as he guides me down some halls and into a room.

It's been a full week , I've only ever known my room , the garden, and school. I haven't met anyone besides Alfred - the butler and my teachers. Alfred kept assuring me that I had brothers who would love to meet me and that my 'dad' , Mr.Wayne was busy, so I should bear him patience.

I hadn't really cared about Mr. Wayne's absence , as far as I considered my father, was out there somewhere and had left me, and I had no interest in having siblings. I hadn't told Alfred any of that, though - I had been silent since I had arrived here . Two weeks passed, and Alfred introduced me to someone named 'Ricard' , Mr. Wayne's eldest .

This Richard had given me a tight-lipped smile and a half hug that I didn't reciprocate . I could tell he felt uncomfortable and forced, and I respected his boundaries because I would of reacted the same way if I got introduced to my new supposed 'sibling' .

Alfred had told me that Richard lives away and visits when he can since he too has work . Since then, I haven't met anyone . Maybe if you count seeing Mr. Wayne walking in and out the foyer then maybe .

Months passed, and it's been the same process - I wake up , scarf down whatever Alfred makes , go to school , come home , sleep, and repeat. Now and again, Richard may perhaps drop by, but our meeting were just exchanging pleasantries before we go our own ways.

I was still mourning my parents. It's weird to mourn when they aren't dead. Today I had I.T class , meaning I had access to a laptop . Using what minimum sites I could , I dug up that my mother was admitted to Arkham asylum and was deemed ' mentally unstable ' . It's weird seeing her in that old , grimy straight jacket and her worn hands in silver cuffs . It's weird that she is the same person who used to bake me fresh cookies when I was sad and used to so attentively braid my hair everyday - It's weird to know that somehow my pure , kind mother somehow turned into what she is.

I hadn't found out nothing about my father - reports just suggested he moved to another city or somewhat - some speculated he manipulated her into the abuse - but I knew my father went far away to start a new life - a new life that hadn't involve me .

It stings every time I think about that, though , that my dad thought I was so much of a burden he had to leave me to start anew . A part of me loathes him - wants to tear him out , another part of me wants to cry and scream ' how could he ', but the biggest part of me has already grown numb to everything around me and has accepted the fact that it's better off being on your own.

Months continue to pass on - nothing really changed , I haven't 'bonded' with anyone at the mansion , Alfred keeps making excuses for their wariness and coldness. I discovered through him that recently, one of Mr.Wayne's children , Jason, had recently passed due to a mishap with the Joker . He hadn't gone into full detail, but I understood the pain and grief - the pain of losing your loved ones and having to bury them.

Days blurred into one another, but as recently, I have been seeing advertisements for a youth camp. It's new to be supposedly based in Russia and aims to teach children survival skills, and for some odd reason, it called out to me . I became further intrigued when on one particular evening , my English teacher pulled me across after class and handed me a pamphlet for it , I remembered her saying " I thought ...maybe you can use this Y/N maybe they can help you " . I remember taking it home and staring at it for a good while.

That same day - apparently we got a new member to the family named Tim , I saw him walk in the foyer , Mr. Wayne's hands practically draped over his shoulder with a proud 'dad' smile on his face . I exchanged pleasantries with both, but the Tim guy was giving me a dirty look .

After that night , after careful consideration, I decided to join this youth camp but in order to do so I would of course need money so that very nigh I applied to some jobs . A week passed since Tim and I didn't really get along . He kept glaring at me, and I just kept ignoring him .

Apparently he didn't like that and one morning when I was leaving for school he pulled me across and with a nasty snare said , " can't believe Bruce and I bust our asses every night protecting the city and people like you get to squander away - you know for someone who uses so much of Bruce's resources I don't understand why he hasn't gotten rid of you ".

I slapped him in response and walked out - I won't and don't tolerate shit - especially from someone so far up their ass . Alfred walked in on us in the foyer and began lecturing me on the spot, but I had a cold, hard look - challenging him . Alfred just tutted and carried us both to school.

Yes - apparently, this Tim person goes to the same school as me, and I had to listen to him nag Alfred about it on the way there . I rolled my eyes - seriously, he sounds like an entitled brat . Alfred dropped us off . The moment Tim stepped foot in school lots of kids approached him - probably because it was publicly known he was a Wayne , I on the other hand wasn't- hell I didn't even take his name I still kept my father's surname .

I left him and continued my day like normal, and after school, I went to my waitress job on the block. It's a quaint little cafe waitress job . It was nice and had good pay, so I wasn't too bothered. Of course, a week into my job and Tim had to already cause a scene .

The brat had to walk in with his group of little friends and had the audacity to demand I get them a table . I sat them down, took everyone's orders, and this man had to order some complicated shit with absurd add ins. Why order expresso and complain it's too bitter ?? Why order no flat decaf when decaf is already flat ? Why , when I explain to you , you snare at me .

The brat even had the audacity to say ' I was embarrassing the family by working here ' . I stepped on his foot, causing him to flinch and whispered to him , " Frankly I don't give a fuck what you or anyone thinks or has to say - you can frankly kiss my ass and see if I could care " and walked off .

He didn't leave a tip sadly and walked out of there with a nasty glare . I came home that evening and met Alfred, leaving out my dinner in my room , " Master Wayne restricts you joining dinner tonight since you are behaving too violent." I just gave him a look . For one pathetic of Tim to tattle to Daddy darest - another many reasons why I don't want siblings and secondly I've never joined anyone at dinner , I live and breathe in this room and unless the mansion is burning down I won't leave it to go anywhere unnecessary.

Months like this pass , Tim and I glaring at each other. Occasionally, Richard stops by to check on Mr. Wayne, or simply hang out with Tim and I was steadily saving money to go to this youth camp.

On my final day , I paid off for the youth camp registry and began packing my things - I simply began packing my clothes , I left behind any things deemed unnecessary like my record players , little nicks and knacks friends gifted me , the very painful photos of my parents and I and the home sewn clothes I once made in tech Ed.

Everything held very little value to me here , especially since I wanted a fresh start there . I packed my bags that night and left without a trace. Downtown Gotham was dangerous but had useful people for the wrong things. I carefully knocked on a banged up door and waited .

I heard a latch move itself and a wrinkly , obese man peers through at me . " What you want, kid?" he grunted . " A passport and a straightway ticket to Russia tonight," I say monotonous. He stared at me for a moment and left . Moments pass and he returns and slips me a passport and a ticket . I let our a small grun before slipping a $100 dollar bill in the latch before taking off in the night.

Training

Russia was cold - but for some odd , maybe sick and twisted way, I loved it . I loved the feeling of the cold nipping at my fingertips , I love the ghostly feeling when the cold air blows in you and I love the way it makes me feel alive .

The youth camp was a successful idea - marvelous even . Though many in my unit complained about how strenuous the training was , I enjoyed it . Every morning , from 4 am to 6 am , our mentors took us on a two hour long jog in the snowy forest of Cheremkhovsky .

It was hard at first , I had literally fainted on my first go, but as I eased into this , it became easier . After that jog , we had breakfast, and then we trained in our combat , hand to hand , handling weaponry such as guns and knives, etc.

My mentor , Kerry Lenz, took me under her wing when I joined . She saw my raw potential, my greedy need to feel alive and belonging . She had practically made me into what I am , a trained assassin .

While most of my peers were asleep in the dead of night , she took me out into the forest , regardless of whether it was snowing , raining, or a massive heatwave . There, under the start nights, she taught me the art of murder , she taught me how to effectively hide a body in plain sight and taught me how to read a person thoroughly , taught me how to stalk a prey and how to notice the tiniest details no matter how absurd .

She taught me like a mother hen would to her chick, and it made us closer. I came here to Russia at fourteen, and now here I am, graduating at eighteen into Russia's CIA program.

She kissed both of my cheeks that day and hugged me, and for once , I reciprocated it . " My beautiful rose , be the strong daring girl I taught you to be," She sobbed into my shirt . I smiled and hugged her , my eyes brimming with tears as I nuzzle into her shirt - her smell of rose scented perfume and Columbian cigar wafted into my nose .

" I promise to be that strong girl , mom," I promised her that day . She smiled at me and patted my shoulder . " hun , this life is a life you can't back away from , it digs its claws into you and keeps you hostage, promise me , you would not deter."

I nodded into her and tightened my hold on her . Since my graduation , I , out of the twenty five candidates at the youth camp , graduated into Russia's CIA task force . Our missions were never easy , every one we face the brutality of human nature - from sex traffic rings , child predators , serial killers to huge organizations abusing civilians , we were tasked to handle them all.

Every mission had its difficulty, a loss albeit one of our own or a victim, or maybe it's the mind-numbing pain of killing . Every mission had its fair share of shit but that didn't deter me one bit - I loved my job - I lived knowing that when I killed another child predator that I saved another child.

What's the use of arresting them in a system we're they are bound to be free and face no repercussions? Doing this job made me look at persons like Batman and his folk and a bit differently - he knowingly puts people like the Joker back into the Arkham asylum, knowing they'd break out and wreck havoc again.

Damian's p.o.v

If anyone told me that I of all people would feel out of place I would laugh at you . For my whole entire life - I've been a man sure of everything - down to the nitty things - I've been sure of everything.

I knew what I liked to eat , what shirt I wore with its specific pants , what show I like to watch , knew for certainty I wanted to be Robin but here - in this family I'm at a loss.

I'm always cleft confused and rather frustrated . My father's eldest , Dick , keeps lecturing me about how 'violent' my ways are , how I'm not suited to be Robin , that Robin is not 'violent'.

How is a boy supposed to believe the methods he's had instilled in him from birth are considered wrong - considered too orthodox. We both always argue - he always pushes me to my wits end . Today, though - today, he took it a notch further .

Today he involved father in our spat . It was a simple situation - a simple stake-out , a robbery being done in some small local supermarket , the robber noticed us before we noticed them and took off running and I had simply launched a batrang into his leg to stop him.

It led to the robber bleeding out in the road and almost dying, but wasn't the objective met ? Father and Dick seemed to think otherwise considering I was berated for it for fifteen minutes straight.

But what got me was when dick said , " You're a monster like your mother." I literally launched myself at him - almost prying out his eyes but father managed to pull me off and send me off to my room with a glare.

I didn't go to my room - I was far too angry, so I just roamed around the mansion . I have never been to this side of the mansion - to be fair, I don't even think Alfred ventures down here, but somehow - the quiet halls bring a bit of peace to me .

I walked down a hall and stopped at a door left abit ajar - weird I thought all doors in this house automatically closed . Approaching it , I carefully opened the door and peer in , inside - inside looked like a bedroom.

The bed looked like it was purposely shoved up against the window , it only had two pillows but frankly sat plush in-between them was a small plushie of a penguin. The room held minimum decor - whoever lived here may have been a minimalist or has long since moved on .

It had a quaint dark oak desk covered in dust and had several stacks of books that looked well used . Next to it was a wardrobe in matching oak that had a red,very worn , backpack hung on it's round handle . The room had a vanity , a cute miniature white one that every little girl must dream off , it held a simple comb and hair ties in a singular cup but the mirror was covered in old polaraid pictures.

So someone definitely lived here - but who ? I've seen Dick's room , even though he isn't here often Alfred cleans it and he has those stupid posters all over , it can't be Tim's either because his room is all dark and has a bunch of clothes strewn around , it's clearly a girl's so Cassandra? No she's too neat for this - steph ? No , I remember her decorating her room with pink frilly ribbons last Christmas- Jason? - no so then who -

" I see you've come across y/n's room " comes a sudden voice behind me . Turning around , I am met with Alfred, who looks around the room so - so sullen ? " Pennyworth, why such a cres- fallen face ?" I enquire . Alfred looks everywhere but me .

" This is y/n's bedroom " he says as he steps in. " y/n ?" I ask perplexed - father - hell no one has mentioned y/n to me ever .

[rafesbbdoll]

self help . drew starkey

warnings: smut warning, squirting, cream pie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, masturbation (fem receiving), soft dom!drew, NOT PROOFREAD

wc . 1.4k

you knew that drew was a busy man; being an actor, going to interviews, going to fashions shows, and so much more. but there were times when you missed him all too much, and today was no exception. today he was out of your shared apartment, attending the SAG awards. you had seen countless photos of him online, and god you were fighting the urge. the way the suit looked on him, his haircut, the piercing, just him.

it was around 7 when he had finally returned home from the awards, walking into the familiar scent of your shared home. however, when he did enter, you were no where to be found. he did though, hear a faint noise coming from the bedroom, whimpers and moans sounded as he got closer. creaking the door open a little, he found you laying so prettily on the bed, your legs spread as your fingers moved in and out of your soaking cunt. your free hand was pinching your nipple, attempted to add to your stimulation. tears were rolling down your cheeks, upset that your fingers couldn’t reach like drew’s did. when you opened your eyes, you found drew standing at the door with a small smirk on his face. “you okay, baby?”

you shook your head, a small pout forming on your lips. you didn’t even care that you were naked in front of him, too desperate for his touch. “saw your photos at the award show, and just got desperate,” you frowned. he walked closer to the bed, now standing over you, where you sat on the edge. your sticky fingers reached for his hand, pulling it down to your wet heat, allowing him to feel. drew groaned, his fingers running over your slit gently before bringing his fingers back up to his mouth and giving it a taste. “all this for me? my needy girl,” he said bringing his lips to meet yours.

you immediately kissed him back, desperately as your hands found their place on his shoulders. his arms wrapped around your waist, laying you down gently on the bed. his lips trailed down to your jaw, sucking marks gently. "missed me, baby? just couldn't keep your hands to yourself," he murmured into your neck. you whined in response, your hips jumping up a little for any friction. he tutted, pinching the skin on your bare hips, "patience, baby."

he laid you down on the bed properly, you looking up at him with wide eyes, already drunk off of him. he took your legs, spreading them to make sure he fit in between, before taking a small lick on your clit. your thighs trembled slightly at that, your hand reaching down to hold his. his free hand found yours, intertwining the two before he sucked on your clit. your back arched as he continued his ministrations on you, he hand squeezing yours every time you whined out his name.

"you just needed daddy, isn't that right? so wet and it's all fa' me?", he said into you, moving his free hand to your opening. you shivered as you felt one finger pushing in, his hand that was holding yours moved to your hips to keep you still. you nodded at his words. "needed y-you so bad," you cried out, looking down at him as he added a second finger. his fingers knew all the ways to make you tremble beneath him, your thighs threatening to close as you got close.

his fingers found your g-spot with every thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. "i'm gonna cum," you whimpered, your eyes meeting his as his other hand moved to rub your clit. "come on, let go for me. you got it, princess," he responded.

he watched in awe as your body shook from your orgasm, squirting on his fingers as his pace didn't slow, making you whine. once your hand moved down to hold his wrist, he knew you were spent. he sat up, leaning over you to look at your fucked out expression. your eyes were glazed over, hair a mess, sweaty, but you still looked up at him with the sweetest gaze ever. "how you doing?", he asked gently, moving one of your hairs behind your ear. you nodded at him, one of your hands resting on his bicep. "good. still want more", you mumbled, tugging at his navy blazer. he nodded, kissing your cheek before sitting up fully.

he removed his blazer and dress shirt, revealing his toned body, making you blush every time. even though you and drew have had sex multiple times, he still makes you nervous. he removed his pants and boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, bobbing as it was released.

he crawled back over you, removing your shirt that still lingered on your frame, kissing your neck once it was gone. "prettiest girl ever," he murmured into your skin. you sighed, your fingers moving to his shoulders. he sat up on on elbow, his free hand moving your leg to get the position right. moving from your leg, his hand moved to his cock, pushing it closer to your entrance. "remember to breathe for me, alright?", he said, looking down at you. he knew you struggled with him on the first initial go, so he always took things slow for you.

you nodded, looking up at him. he began to pushing in slowly, your breathing coming out staggered as you looked into his eyes. "there you go. there you go, baby. breathe," he said, holding eye contact with you. you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix. he leaned down, kissing your trembling lips to calm you down, his hand rubbing your thigh gently. "doin' so good," he said on your lips.

you gasped when he moved his hips slowly, the sound of skin slapping gently filled the room, making drew moan in your ear. you whined, moving your hips up to meet his thrust. drew chuckled lowly, watching your desperate act. "calm down, princess. i'll give it to you, but you know i have to go slow," he said. you hummed, "please, i need it." you wiped your teary eyes with your hands, your emotions taken over by drew as his hips picked up in speed.

your thighs trembled gently around him as his tip kissed your g-spot every time, making your back arch up to him. "you like that, baby?", he rasped, his pace faltering a bit when your walls clenched around him. you nodded, your nails moving to scratch his back, making him hiss. "yes, yes, yes!", you cried out. drew moved his hand down to your clit, making your shriek as his fingers pinched the bud. you attempted to move away, but he was stronger than you, keeping you in place as his pace quickened.

"nuh uh, take this cock. you were all desperate for it, now you're running?", he gritted through his teeth. you felt the tight knot in your tummy tighten as you gasped, blinking up at him. drew's eyes met yours, knowing that you were nearing your end, your eyes rolling back for a second. "gonna cum? cum on daddy's cock, baby," he said looking down at you. and with his words you did.

you tried to keep eye contact with him, but you failed, your eyes rolling back as your second orgasm hit.

your walls were gripping his cock like a vice, riding out your orgasm. you squirted again, for the second time that night, making your back arch off the bed. you knew he was coming close, the way his hips stuttered against yours. "f-fuck," he groaned in your neck as he painted with walls with his sticky release.

by the end of it, you were spent. thighs trembling, left over tears on your cheeks, but your satisfaction was fulfilled. you must've knocked out right after, you waking up in a warm bath with drew behind you. you blinked your eyes open, tilting your head back to look at him. "good morning, sleepyhead," he joked, kissing your forehead. you smiled gently, humming in response, "hi."

you were still a bit dazed from earlier, but you were content. "i take it you enjoyed the award show?", he asked after some moment of silence. you nodded, your hand playing with his." you just looked so good. i couldn't help myself," you simply said.

who wouldn't help themself?

HE LOOKED TEW GOOD I COULDNT

[notlongtolove]

in my dream, i'm fixing your crutch

most nights, spencer wakes to the sound of your sniffles—unlike most nights, he doesn’t have to ask why. the reason is visceral, tangible—staining the sheets when the wound dressing wasn’t tight enough, seeping and pooling right between the both of you where an ocean of your guilt already lies.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: flangst hurt comfort

content: many mentions of wounds and blood. bc spencer was shot. jesus reid woo! established relationship spencer and bau!reader deal with the aftermath of spencer taking a bullet for her

word count: 2.8k

note: based on this ask! for my jesus reid sassy man apocalypse flangst fight and make up lovers... this ones for you! i actually loved writing this sm @esote-rika u wonderful genius u!!! inspired by this poem that she sent me! might be one of my new favorite fics ive written

a line: In the bad dreams, over and over, you’re saying you’re sorry. In the worst dreams, he’s saying he forgives you. 

“I’m sorry.”

Those were the first words out of your mouth when Spencer had woken up in the hospital. Before that, you'd been running on adrenaline, too focused on talking the unsub down. So certain—so sure—that he wouldn’t pull the trigger. That you’d be fine. That the father would be fine. And you were, mostly. 

Because a hard shove sent you both tumbling to the ground. No broken bones, no bloody wounds—Just a bullet in Spencer’s leg instead of yours.

He held your hand through the tears, fingers gentle as they stroked through your hair while you wept against the edge of his hospital bed. Told you I’d take a bullet for you, honey. Spencer always joked about that. Romantic once—now, not so much. It is not an honour you ever wanted to hold.

Crutches for a month. You’d been right there when the doctor ordered it, nodding, asking questions, voicing concerns. The two of you make do, as you always do. You move into his place, helping him with the little things. Because loving someone means loving them in health and in sickness. During the good times and the bad. Two sides of the same coin—But intimacy wears many faces. 

You don’t think you’ve stopped crying since you saw the blood soaking into the grass. 

You try to smile more when Spencer’s around. He says it helps—just as much as the medication, maybe more. So you do. More cuddles than usual. Coffee, just the way he wants it, because come on, the man took a bullet for you, the least you could do is not criticise his sugar intake.

But when he’s not there, the tears come. In the shower, where the water washes them away before you can. Waiting for the coffee to brew, blinking them back so they don’t salt the mug.

You whisper I’m sorrys into his hair when he falls asleep after the Doctor Who reruns, as many as he wants. Hope he feels it in the way your fingers card through his curls, lathering shampoo carefully. Hope he tastes it in the spoonfuls of breakfast you lift to his lips, even though his hands work just fine. Everything served in bed, of course, because that’s where he is.

Because that is where he has to be. 

I’m sorry. You don’t think you’ll ever stop saying it.

Most nights, Spencer wakes to the sound of your sniffles—Unlike most nights, he doesn’t have to ask why. The reason is visceral, tangible—staining the sheets when the wound dressing wasn’t tight enough, seeping and pooling right between the both of you where an ocean of your guilt already lies. 

Still, every night he does wake, he cups your cheeks with warm hands as he murmurs it’s okays. 

He’ll say it again at 2 am, when he’s inevitably forced to rewind the bandage himself because somehow, you never seem to get it right. Another tally mark on the growing list of ways you’ve failed him. 

And again at 4 am, when you shift too close in your sleep, bump against him, and wake to a sharp, stifled wince. Then the tears resurface, and the cycle repeats. God, you’re just a walking Murphy’s Law, aren’t you?

“Do you blame me?” you’d asked him one night, voice meek in the dark.

“You were in danger. I acted. I could never blame you.”

You replay that conversation more often than not. You love Spencer enough to believe that he means it—that in his mind, it’s the only truth that exists. The only truth that could ever exist. 

But you don’t think you love yourself enough to believe it, too.

You move to the couch after the first week. Couldn’t take another night of accidental touches, of hearing his breath hitch in pain and feeling—remembering— that you’d put him there. Spencer had protested, threatened to order an air mattress just to sleep beside you, but you’d won in the end. He needed space. Comfort. Proper rest to heal.

Mostly, you just didn’t want him to see you crying anymore.

The couch isn’t so bad. Smells just enough like him to let it lull you to sleep. Has pillows that are fluffy enough to clutch in your grip when he insists on showering alone for the first time. The couch is close enough to hear the bottle of shampoo hit the floor and the pause that follows when you both realise he can’t bend down to pick it up himself. It’s also far enough away that you hear only the muffled curses that escape him when he tries to dress himself after—Spencer hardly ever swears.

And again, the couch is far enough away that he can’t see you cry.

Intimacy is familiarity, carved deep.

It is not synonymous with love, nor does it innately mean romance. It is a vulnerability between two people, a connection that forms through time, a trust that builds upon circumstance. Intimacy is a blade that cuts through flesh and bone, never to be used lightly. It sees everything—what you are, what he is, what the two of you have always been. 

It’s the chaste kiss you press to his lips before leaving for the jet, van waiting down in the lobby. The long list of instructions, medications, emergency contacts scribbled onto paper—handed off to Garcia. The unanswered calls that drain your battery, each one landing in his voicemail. 

When you’re away, you dream of Spencer. You’re steadying his crutch, rewrapping his wounds, pressing gentle kisses over healing scars. 

In the bad dreams, over and over, you’re saying you’re sorry.

In the worst dreams, he’s saying he forgives you. 

Intimacy is something etched into the marrow of you, amidst the flesh and bone, through the ache and the aftermath.

“Spence?” you call from the doorway, one hand braced against the wall as you toe off your shoes. “You in here? Garcia said you decided to head home.”

A muffled shuffle from his office draws your attention. When you step inside, you find him perched in his desk chair, one hand gripping his crutch, the other stretched toward a book just out of his reach on the bottom shelf. 

“I didn’t decide to head home,” Spencer mutters, still not looking at you. “Garcia sent me home.”

You have to bite back a smile. “Garcia sent you home?” you echo, amused, crossing the room to retrieve the book from the shelf with ease. He returns your kind act with a heavy sigh even as you set the book on the table beside him.

“She was rearranging her case files. Said I was in the way.”

“Aw honey,” you coo, reaching out to fluff his curls. Normally, he’d lean into your touch, eyes going all soft with adoring affection. But tonight, there’s nothing. Your hand falls away, neglected. 

“Have you eaten?” you try, hoping hunger is to blame for his mood. He barely acknowledges the question, offering only a curt nod. 

“What’d you have?”

“One of those instant meals,” he mutters.

You frown. “I thought you hated that stuff.”

Spencer scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m in any position to cook now, am I?”

The window is shut but the study is ice cold. You knew he was upset when Hotch forbade him from coming along on the case. He had told you just as much, his frustrations only thinly veiled in the few text messages he’d sent. But whatever this is, you don’t understand why it’s suddenly being directed at you tonight. 

“Did something happen while I was away?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” The sarcasm that drips in his tone pools together at your feet. 

Most people work to live. Your boyfriend is not most people. He lives to work. The time he doesn’t spend solving cases is spent preparing for the next one—reading, researching, gathering knowledge for the inevitable moment it might be needed. You of all people know he hates being unoccupied. He’d explained it to you once, how much he detests idleness, the feeling of time slipping through his fingers with nothing to show for it.

And now here he is, sidelined. Left behind—with nobody else to point the finger at but you. 

Not Garcia for shoo-ing him out of her Batcave. Not Hotch for being a stickler for the doctor’s orders. Just you. 

“Is that it? You’re upset because Hotch didn’t let you come on the case?”

Spencer doesn't answer so you’re the one to take a step forward—both physically and metaphorically. 

“Spence, talk to me. What’s gotten into you?”

The laugh that leaves Spencer doesn’t really sound like him at all. It comes out sharp and humourless—Empty, essentially. 

“What’s gotten into me?” He exhales, shakes his head. “You mean other than a bullet?”

The breath you were holding slips from your lips, and for a moment, it feels like the bullet never left. It might as well have buried itself hilt deep, slicing through you and back out. Right now, you almost wished that were the case.

A bullet in your boyfriend is not a cross you ever wanted to bear but it is a cross you’re tied to carrying all the same. 

Maybe it had been easier in the beginning. In the holding of hands in the ambulance, in the moving of mugs to accommodate yours. But in the wake of skin and gauze, of antiseptic burning raw and sheets gripped in clenched fists—What is there to thank god for? 

Just a bullet. 

Just a wound. 

Just a bed too small to carry the hurt of two people. 

“Spencer.”

For a man with a limp, he moves fast. The bedroom door slams shut behind him and you’re left to stand there by yourself, guilt seeping into the floorboards under you. Thank god for the couch. 

You don’t dream of Spencer tonight. You don’t sleep at all. Which is why you hear it—the crutch slipping, the clattering against the wood of the floor. You tiptoe to the bedroom door, nudging it open.

“Hey, everything alright? Need your meds? Water? I can get—”

“S'fine,” Spencer says. His sigh is as heavy as it is exhausted as he bends down to retrieve his crutch. 

“Oh. Okay…” You hesitate, lingering by the door. “Goodnight then.”

“Sweetheart—” Spencer exhales, soft and uneven. “I—I… wanted to talk.” 

You swallow. “Talk?” 

“What I did—how I acted just now—that wasn’t okay. And I’m sorry.”

It sounds weird coming from him. Wrong, almost. A man who took a bullet for you shouldn’t be apologising. A thousand sorrys from you wouldn’t even come close to enough, and you’re certain you’ve already said more than that.

“You don’t need to apologise, Spence, you—”

“I do.”

He tries to stand. You’re at his side before he can, pressing him back down with a gentle hand against his shoulder as you take a seat by the edge of the bed too. 

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was frustrated. At Hotch, at Garcia, at myself. And I took it out on you.”

You nod silently, trying to understand.

“I’m not used to this,” he admits. “Being taken care of. Needing to be taken care of. It’s... hard. What I said before I left the room… I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Spencer isn’t one to dance around words. He thrives on specifics. Tonight, he doesn’t need to name it. 

What’s gotten into me? You mean other than a bullet? The words have been reverberating in your skull since he said it. 

“Do you—” Your voice sounds hollow in your throat, shaking as it leaves you. “Can you forgive me?” 

Spencer’s seen you cry before. But the sight of you wiping away your own tears is not one he’s is used to. He’s used to holding you through it, with soft hands, with light kisses. So, he takes your hand first, then coaxes your gaze up  to meet his. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile since you’ve gotten back. 

“Angel,” he breathes, “there’s nothing to forgive. I don’t blame you. For any of it. Do you remember what I said the first time?” 

“I—yeah.”

“You were in danger. I acted. Simple as that.” 

In theory, it is simple. Bullets move at roughly 2,700 feet per second. To reach you first, Spencer must have moved at 2,701. 

It is not a lifetime of love of reflected in a single split second. It is a lifetime of love refracted, redirected—Love forced onto a different path the moment the bullet entered his body. Two sides of the same coin, wild violence amidst the intimacy. You see it day after day in the blood that trickles down his leg, in how his skin splits open in millimetres, in the way his body punishes itself for what his heart decided. 

It is agonising to see how softly he hurts. 

“I just—I’m so sorry, Spence. For this. For everything.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “do you trust me?”

Your head jerks up. You sit straighter, wiping at your nose with the sleeve of your sweater. “Yeah, of course, Spence, I—”

“Then I need you to believe me when I say this.” He shifts, taking both your hands into his. He winces slightly but doesn’t let it stop him. “This? This isn’t your fault. Not at all. I need you to know that, baby. Okay?” 

You’ve never been one to hold back or stay quiet during arguments with Spencer. Especially when he’s the first to admit he’s wrong—And, being Spencer, that hardly ever happens. More than you’d like to admit, he’s usually right. But this is different.

Because Spencer is wrong. He shouldn’t have said it. But “shouldn’t” doesn’t make it untrue.

Spencer was shot. Fact.

You weren’t. Fact.

And you weren’t shot because Spencer took the bullet for you.

Fact upon fact, stacking too tall, pressing down hard, choking you out. 

“But it is though,” you whisper, though it comes out as more of a cry. “Spence, if it weren’t for me—”

“Honey, there is no version of events where I would’ve ever let that bullet touch you.” He gives your hands a light squeeze. “None.”

There is an intimacy in knowing love, at its core, is a kind of violence. It is a body rashly moved by instinct before the mind catches up. It is the sacrifice of flesh before the heart has even finished deciding, of stepping into the line of fire before you’ve even realised that you’ve moved. 

With his heart, mind and body—That is how violently Spencer Reid loves you. 

Spencer has always been fast. Faster than the bullet meant for you. Fast to love, quicker to comfort—He presses a kiss to your cheek where the last tear falls. “I mean it when I say that there is nothing you could’ve done, or Hotch could’ve done, or the Unsub could’ve done that wouldn’t have resulted in me taking the bullet for you.”

“Well,” you start, voice still sniffly from the remnants of your tears, “the unsub could’ve just... not shot.”

Spencer blinks. For a second, he’s still caught in the weight of his emotions. Then, his lips twitch, a knowing smile breaking through as he rolls his eyes.

“Smartass.”

A small giggle bubbles out of you. You lift your joined hands to press light kisses into the spaces between his fingers, into the cracks of him that you can reach. He lets you. Spencer doesn’t remember the last time you touched him like this—Not careful, not afraid. Not like guilt kissed your fingertips before they ever touched his skin.

“Baby,” he mumbles.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Spence.”

For the first time in weeks, you’re looking at him the way you always have. Not like a martyr you never asked for, carrying the weight of a sacrifice you never wanted him to make.

For the first time in weeks, you’re looking at him like it’s just him, and it’s just you. 

No bullet. No blood. Just him. Just you.

“Will you sleep in here tonight?”

You freeze. He feels it immediately. 

“Spence, I—I don’t know, I don’t want to hurt—” you murmur, blinking down at your interlocked fingers.

“You won’t,” he’s quick to reassure. “I just want you next to me. The sheets don’t smell like you anymore and I never sleep well without you. I wake up, and you’re out there, and it feels wrong. I just want to hold you. Please? It’s been days.” 

You’re helpless when he speaks like that. Besides, the man took a bullet for you—how could you ever say no to him again, for as long as you live?

So you nod, shifting closer, barely hesitating before crawling into bed beside him. After some readjusting, you hear Spencer exhale, feel his arm curling around you, slotting you against his side like muscle memory. For the first time in days, you let yourself be held.

His lips brush your skin as he whispers, “thank you.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: savior complex by phoebe bridgers inside your mind by the 1975

[arcanetrivia]

[Image description: Screenshots of many posts from this thread on Threads, from February 18, 2025.

alimilne, thread starter: I recently saw a TikTok where a woman asked 'girlies: what are some things you do to be more whimsical. I love knowing about cute little habits.' And I've never loved a comment section more. Some of my faves:

thebloggess: A friend made me joyous taxidermied raccoons out of roadkill and I create happy scenes of them on adventures using American Doll props (to the continued bafflement of my cats and husband). This post contains two photos of the said taxidermied raccoons on small pink motor-scooters, mouths open as if they were smiling and front paws posed in the air like they're having a great time.

Grace: I wear matching pajamas every time I change my sheets so I can have what I call fancy sleep

Kaitlyn Hunt: I hold "office hours" every Tuesday at a local coffee shop, which means I sit on the couch and order drinks for 4-5 hours while various friends and acquaintances visit me to yap abt books and gossip.

rene.egg: if I want to have negative thoughts about myself I have to think them in a cockney accent

leaturnerholt: I call my to do list my TA DA list and do jazz hands as I tick things off.

lawlessmcgee: I wash dishes by candlelight, listening to Medieval tavern music, and pretend I'm a tavern wench.

unabashedlyerin: I teach the dog how to do things either to make them more interesting for me ("Let me show you how to start a load of laundry") or just to make him feel included ("Do you remember how to make coffee, or should I walk you through it again? I know it's hard to remember since you can't practice without thumbs.")

candymandingo: When I leave the house I always tell my dog "no parties while I'm gone!" And then laugh so he knows he is 100% allowed to throw parties if he wants.

caitlincc7: Oooooh love these! I'll add one: whenever I buy something online and it asks "is this a gift?" I write a little gift message to myself, usually along the lines of "you are awesome and deserve these little treats."

Tessa: listen to french music in my headphones while I grocery shop. Makes it more romantic and less mundane feeling

Kat: I tell my hamster not to answer the door for anyone before I leave

Car: I like drinking water at night out of small wooden bowls. It makes me feel like I'm being nursed back to health by spirits

skinnyminnow: Whenever I drop or fuck something up when I'm alone I bow & say "and scene" instead of getting frustrated. I've done this for so long that I literally no longer get annoyed by my own mistakes & laughing is my first instinct anytime anything goes wrong lol

s y d: I say 'my lady' whenever i walk by a mirror

oi dipshit: "can you hold this please" when i set my purse on an inanimate object

Lexis: I tell my dishes it's bath time

Josie: I say "well good thing no one overreacted" out loud to myself after a good cry

/end description]

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part15

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: Arguing. (tell me if I should add more I’m really bad at this.)

Selly's note: I'm sorry. Pls don't hate me💗

previous - next

Waiting was hard. Especially when someone told you they’d come. Every knock on the door had you looking up. Every single one, you thought it was them. 

After all, a promise had been made—to be there. 

But when they didn’t show, the disappointment stung. If you weren’t going to come, why say you would? Why give hope? 

If they’d said they were leaving, fine. It would hurt, but at least you’d know. But when someone says they’ll come, you wait. Even if they don’t say when, you wait. 

And then they don’t show. 

Their messed-up life, their thoughts, their world—so damn important that they can’t even pick up the phone to say, “I’m okay.” They just leave. Just like that. Like you meant nothing. Like you were a stranger. 

Should you be worried or just pissed? You weren’t even sure. Your mind kept running through scenarios, wondering if something happened. Maybe that’s why you didn’t call. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. 

They just didn’t. 

If they wanted to, they would have. 

And knowing that hurt the most. 

Lily and JJ. That was everything. Your world revolved around them. You spent every day together. And now, he was just… gone. Like he hadn’t been by your side for years. Like you had never been in his life. 

There was so much anger bubbling inside you that even stepping outside for air didn’t help. Even when Liliana came to talk about JJ, you struggled to keep your answers short. Every time she asked where he was, you had to bite your tongue to keep from saying, “rotting in hell.” 

Especially—especially when he left you alone at a time when maybe, just maybe, you were starting to feel something for him. Was no man reliable? The first chance he got, at the first sign of trouble, he ran. If you couldn’t even trust JJ, then who the hell was left? 

Screw love. He was your best friend. 

And sometimes—friendships mattered more than feelings. You would’ve pushed everything else aside just to keep him in your life. 

If you couldn’t trust him, then who else was left? 

You had called Rafe a coward before, but wasn’t this the same damn thing? 

The first chance he got, JJ was gone. No one knew where he was. Three days. And nothing. You didn’t even know if he was coming back. 

At night, after Liliana fell asleep, you’d lie awake. You’d cry, or you’d just stare at the ceiling, torn between waiting up for JJ and giving up on him entirely. 

But you waited. Like an idiot, you sat in the living room, waiting for him to walk through the door. How much lower could you sink? Sitting there, waiting for a guy who promised to come and never did. A guy who swore he’d always keep you safe but ran at the first real fight. 

And god, the worst part was, you had feelings for him. 

Your best friend. 

You pulled a pillow into your lap, hugging it close as your eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen. You weren’t even processing anything. Your mind was a mess. 

As if all this wasn’t enough, Rafe was still waiting for your answer. As if you had one. 

It wasn’t easy. This wasn’t something you could figure out in just a couple of days. You had five years of raising Liliana without him. And before that, you had years of being with him. How were you supposed to weigh nearly seven years of your life in just three days? 

But still, you had to decide before leaving for Asheville. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Everything was too much. You hated how everything was piling up at once. Without thinking, you grabbed your phone. Even though you were pissed at JJ, making a decision about Liliana on your own felt wrong. 

Your fingers found Rafe’s number instead. You hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. Then, before you could overthink it, you hit call. 

You should’ve just stayed in Asheville. 

The phone barely rang before it was answered. Your brows shot up. You hadn’t expected him to pick up that fast. Taking another deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak, but Rafe beat you to it. His voice was slightly breathless. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” Your voice was flat, the exact opposite of his. You weren’t in the mood to sound happy, let alone pretend you were fine. You just wanted to get this over with, to cross one thing off your list of a million things weighing you down. 

“How are you?” Even though you were the one who called, Rafe took the lead in the conversation. And that felt… strange. He wasn’t the same guy he used to be—you could tell. But every time he spoke, you could still picture the version of him you once knew. 

Like he was someone else entirely. 

And you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

You inhaled deeply, trying to find your voice. When you finally spoke, you hoped it sounded somewhat normal. “I’m fine.” 

If you had been face-to-face, even a stranger would’ve known that was a lie. When silence settled between the two of you. You hated phone calls. Especially when you didn’t know how to start them. 

Realizing you hadn’t even asked how he was, you spoke first. “You?” 

“I’m… good, I guess. What are you doing?” Rafe’s voice was quieter now. He wasn’t as excited as when he first picked up—he sounded calmer. His breathing had slowed. Maybe he’d picked up on the exhaustion in your voice. You didn’t know. 

After all, Rafe wasn’t someone you knew anymore, and you couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his head. 

Your eyes wandered around the room. Liliana’s toys were scattered in a few places, but the house was mostly tidy. You sighed. “I’m at ho—” 

Rafe cut you off, quick and eager. “Is Liliana with you?” His previous excitement was back, and you could tell from his voice that he was smiling. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No… No—she’s asleep.” 

“Oh… Got it.” 

“Great.” You replied dryly. The conversation hit another dead end, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you had even called. The silence stretched between you two, tense and uncomfortable, but it didn’t last long before Rafe spoke again. 

“Do you remember Topper—Of course, you remember Topper. Shit… Well… He’s having a birthday party. June 29th, I think. If you wanted to come—” 

You didn’t need to hear the rest. You were only curious about how he’d finish the sentence. 

“No.” 

The two of you weren’t close. You and Topper, especially, were never close. Being there wouldn’t just be weird—it would be unbearable. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the mood for parties or loud places anymore. At least not right now. 

Rafe exhaled. “Okay.” There was no disappointment in his voice, just acceptance. And you were relieved. You weren’t friends. You weren’t going to pretend to be by showing up at some party. 

“And yes, I remember him. Four years isn’t that long to forget someone.” You ran a hand over your face. You knew he was just stretching the conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. 

“Yeah… it’s not.” Rafe went quiet. You had a feeling you knew what—or who—he was thinking about. So, you stayed quiet. 

You weren’t old friends reconnecting after years apart, and you never would be. That’s why you had no interest in casual conversations. You wanted this to be short and to the point, yet somehow, both of you kept dragging it out. 

“So… I don’t want to pressure you, but have you thought about what we talked about? Or was this just… kind of your way of questioning if I even deserve it?” 

At his words, you sat up straighter on the couch. Did he deserve it? You had no idea. You hoped he did—if there was any chance of him being in Liliana’s life. 

“That’s why I called you. I—I know I said I’d think about it, but Rafe—Jeez, I don’t trust you.” You didn’t really trust anyone these days, but Rafe was at the top of that list. He didn’t just hurt you. He shattered you. And now, years later, he wanted to come back, claiming regret? 

It was disgusting. 

“I get it.” His voice was thick, almost strained. Maybe the old you would’ve felt bad for him. But he wasn’t there when you needed him. 

“No matter how much I try to be objective, at the end of the day, the person I’m gambling on here is my daughter.” And when it came to protecting her, there wasn’t a line you wouldn’t cross. Even if it meant running to the ends of the earth. 

Rafe said nothing. 

“I don’t want to say no. I don’t want to take that right away from Liliana. But I’m not saying yes either. I just… I don’t know if it’s the right thing.” 

“I completely understand. I—I’ll wait as long as you need. Whenever you decide to let me see her—if you ever do—I just… I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get close to you. Shit, I suck at these kinds of conversations. I screwed everything up. Not just us—my whole life. And I don’t want to keep living like that. If there’s even a small chance that I can be better, I want to take it.” 

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But it was hard. Especially because you knew him—who he used to be. 

It felt like the hardest decision you’d ever have to make. Because this wasn’t about you. It was about Liliana. The moment you introduced them, it would be over. She’d know her father was back. She’d want to see him. 

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I’ll think about it.” 

You weren’t ready to give him a straight answer. Maybe you never would be. But you would think about it. 

“And I’m grateful for that.” The second those words left his lips, it felt like a punch to your stomach. You leaned back into the couch, sinking into the cushions, taking a deep breath. 

You didn’t want words of affection from him. You didn’t want soft reassurances. 

He would be in Liliana’s life. Not yours. And he needed to understand that. If he already did, then he needed to remember it. 

“I have to go.” You didn’t want to say goodbye. You weren’t friends. You never would be. 

“Okay,” Rafe said. 

“Okay.” You echoed him. 

“Take care.” Those were his last words before you ended the call. 

You weren’t friends. 

You didn’t want his thoughts on your life. Not even one. 

This was only for Liliana. That was the only reason you spoke to Rafe. The only reason you called. 

“Are you done?” 

The sudden voice snapped you back to reality. Your eyes flew open, and your body reacted faster than your mind, making you jolt upright. One hand clutched your chest as you turned toward the doorway. 

JJ was standing there, his expression unreadable, a not-so-friendly smirk tugging at his lips. He dropped the grocery bag in his hand onto the floor, shaking his head.

Did he really have the nerve to stand there and smile at you like nothing happened? Had he lost his mind? 

"I asked you a question, you know? Are you guys done talking?" JJ tossed his keys onto the couch. There was almost a smirk on his lips, but it was clear it wasn’t out of happiness—just pure mockery. As if he had any right to ask you anything. 

You wanted to yell at him, but you held back, keeping your composure. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. He was already dense enough at the moment; you didn’t need word games. "Yeah. We're done." 

JJ let out a dry chuckle, staying right where he was instead of stepping closer. "What’d you tell him—actually, wait. Never mind. Forget it. I— I just wanna drop this. Do whatever you want, just don’t tell me about it." 

Your eyes squeezed shut. One hand went to your forehead, the other lifted as if you were trying to stop yourself from doing something reckless. You had no idea what the hell had gotten into JJ lately, but you wanted to rip it out of him and shove it so far up his ass that he’d finally cut this crap. "Stop doing that." 

"I'm literally not doing anything," JJ said, laughing right after. But there wasn’t a single trace of amusement in his voice. 

"I'm done playing games." You forced yourself to stay calm. He was the one who walked out of this house and didn’t come back for three days. And now, the moment he steps back inside, he thinks he’s the one who gets to act like this? 

JJ started moving toward the couch, pulling off his jacket as he went. "Whatever you say." He tossed the jacket onto the couch and leaned back, making himself comfortable. You clenched your fists, trying to keep yourself together. 

Liliana was upstairs, and yelling was the last thing you needed to do. You were not about to fight with JJ in front of her. Ever. 

You took a deep breath, swallowing down everything bubbling up inside you. Just one more try. If you could just get through this one last time, you could leave it all behind. Of course, you had every right to call him out for disappearing for three days, to be pissed at him, but you wanted to fix things, not burn them down. "If you're willing to sit down and talk to me like a normal person, I want to have one last conversation with you. No yelling. No arguing." 

JJ stopped. When he turned around a few seconds later, the smug, cocky attitude was gone. His expression had completely changed, his face unreadable. "Why?" 

"What do you mean, why? Don’t play dumb, JJ. I’m standing right here, trying to be a rational adult and talk to you." It was exhausting. 

JJ took a step forward, his brows slowly pulling together. "Are you seriously gonna make me repeat myself? I told you to do whatever you want. You’re her parent—" 

That was it. You shot up from where you were sitting, cutting him off before he could even finish. "One more time—just one more time you say that, and I swear to God, I will punch you in the face." You tried to keep your voice steady, but you already knew you’d failed. Your tone had gone sharp, louder than you intended. 

Not that JJ cared if you raised your voice. It wasn’t about him. It was about Liliana. You didn’t want her to hear this. 

"What do you want me to say?" JJ shrugged as he walked toward the couch, his tone infuriatingly indifferent. "I said it’s your decision, I’ll respect it. You get what you want." 

He was never going to understand. He only heard what he wanted to hear—he wasn’t even listening to what you were saying. "I don’t want to ‘get what I want.’ I want us to sit down and figure this out together." 

JJ rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. You felt your patience snap. If this were Liliana, everything would already be resolved by now. But JJ? He was worse than her. More stubborn. More childish. "Jesus. I’m telling you, this decision is yours. I won’t interfere. What do you want, another fight like last night?" 

You couldn’t take it anymore. "Who even are you?" 

You watched as confusion flashed across his face. JJ took a step back. "What?" 

You didn’t stop. "Who the hell are you?" 

JJ’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, he had no idea what you were getting at. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Tell me what role you see yourself in Liliana’s life." 

JJ swallowed. His mouth opened, then closed, and his hand went to his hair like he was trying to figure out what to say. "I— isn’t it obvious?" 

You shook your head, fast. You didn’t want to be angry anymore. "No. Clearly, it’s not. We’re not on the same page. Tell me how you see it, and I swear to you, I’ll act accordingly. The way I see your role in her life and the way you see it yourself—they’re not the same." 

Whatever answer he gave, you would accept it. If he saw himself as an uncle, then fine, you’d treat him like one. If he saw himself as nothing more than a stranger, so be it. A brother? A parent? Whatever it was, you just needed to know. 

"I—" JJ started. 

"You what?" 

JJ spread his arms, looking at you like this whole thing was ridiculous. "This is bullshit." 

"You can’t even say it— You know what, JJ? Maybe, for the first time in five years, you actually disappointed me. And I really wish I didn’t have to feel that." 

It was never going to be simple, was it? He just had to fight back, had to shut you out instead of just facing it. You raised Liliana together. And yet— 

You didn’t even want to think about it. You tried to shove down the overwhelming urge to just walk away from all of this. JJ was the one person in your life you trusted the most. For the past few years, he had been. And you couldn’t wrap your head around how it was all unraveling in just a few days. 

If someone had told you weeks ago that you’d be standing here, questioning everything, you wouldn’t have believed them. You would’ve laughed and said, "JJ would never do that." 

But here he was. Doing it. Every word, every move—breaking your heart, little by little. He wasn’t JJ anymore. Not the JJ you knew. He was turning into someone careless. Someone indifferent. 

"Feeling’s mutual," JJ’s voice came sharp, dripping with sarcasm. You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry. Not in front of him. 

It hurt like hell. Not being able to be vulnerable, even with the person you trusted the most. Not even feeling safe enough to cry in front of him. 

Your eyebrows lifted, a bitter laugh threatening to spill. "That so?" 

"Yeah." JJ didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice. He knew exactly what he was saying.

The words slipped from your lips before you even had time to think. You didn’t mean to say them out loud. But deep down, you knew they were true. 

"Maybe we're starting to hurt each other." 

And maybe you were. 

You couldn’t help but look at yourself, at the way you felt tangled up in emotions that never seemed to settle. It wasn’t just about what you felt for him—it was also about the way he made you feel. 

JJ’s lips twitched slightly before a dry, humorless laugh escaped him. 

"Maybe." 

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to so badly—except, no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t hate. It was disappointment, frustration, an ache that sat too heavy in your chest. 

"It’s been three days," you said, hating the way your voice wavered. You hated how weak you sounded, how obvious the tremble was. 

And this time, you didn’t give him the chance to speak first. Maybe he wouldn’t understand, but for once, you wanted to open yourself up. You wanted to believe that if you said the right words, if you explained it in the right way, something—anything—might change. But you also knew, with a sinking certainty, that it wouldn’t. 

Because JJ was too damn stubborn. Too damn stupid. And you already knew exactly how this would go. 

You looked at him, searching for some kind of reaction, some acknowledgment that he was hearing you, that he was here with you. But he just stood there, staring at the ground. Silent. Avoiding your eyes. 

"You said you’d come," you finally said, voice quieter now, like maybe if you didn’t say it too loud, it wouldn’t hurt as much. "And I—" You swallowed, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "I waited for you all night. Almost all night. I waited for that door to open, but you never showed up." 

You could still see it—the way you sat there, staring at the door, holding onto the stupid hope that any second now, he’d walk in. That things would be okay. That maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. 

JJ still didn’t lift his head when he spoke. His voice was so flat, so emotionless, that it almost felt like a slap in the face. 

"I'm here now." 

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing as you stared at him. Was he serious? Was he actually standing here, looking you in the eye, and acting like that made up for anything? 

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. You searched his face for any sign of regret, any hint of an apology, but he wouldn’t even look at you. 

You couldn’t believe this was the same person you had known for years, the person you had spent so much time with. He looked like a stranger. 

"Fuck you," you said, voice sharp and bitter as you turned on your heel. 

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand here and look at him, not when he was acting like this. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest it felt like it was trying to break free. It physically hurt. 

You stormed toward the stairs, desperate to put distance between the two of you, but his voice stopped you in your tracks. 

"You don’t remember anything, do you?" 

There was something different in his tone now. It wasn’t flat, wasn’t distant. It was shaking. It was the first real emotion he had shown since he walked through that damn door. 

You turned back, brows furrowing. He was still standing there, shoulders slumped, eyes glassy. He dragged a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. 

"What?" you asked, confused. 

JJ didn’t look up. His hand pressed against his chest as if that alone could steady him. 

For a split second, you thought he was in pain. But then the memory of the past three days came rushing back, and all you could feel was frustration. Because if he was hurting, if something had happened, he sure as hell wasn’t letting you in on it. 

"I cared about you," he said, voice cracking slightly, as if the words themselves were painful to say. He wasn’t even talking to you at this point. It felt like he was talking to himself, as if he was saying it out loud for the first time. 

Something about it made your stomach twist. 

You hesitated, then slowly started walking back down the stairs. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded. Maybe it was the way he wouldn’t even look at you. Maybe it was the fact that despite everything, despite knowing better, you still wanted to understand him. 

"JJ," you said cautiously, searching his face. "What are you talking about? What don’t I remember?" 

You hated how lost you sounded. 

JJ finally stopped pacing. His body was tense, like he was holding something back, like if he said it too fast or too loud, the words might actually destroy him. 

"You really don’t remember," he said, mostly to himself. Then he let out a shaky breath. "For three fucking days, all I did was think about the last five years of my life. About you. About Liliana. About us." 

His voice broke slightly on the last word. 

"About the life we had together," he finished quietly. "And it fucking destroyed me." 

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach. 

JJ finally lifted his head. His eyes were red, and for the first time, you couldn’t tell if he was just exhausted or if he was actually about to break right in front of you. 

Where the hell had he been for the last three days? What had happened to him? 

You had spent so much time being angry, being hurt, that it hadn’t even occurred to you to wonder what he had been doing. Where he had been sleeping. If he had been eating. 

And the worst part? The first thing he did when he walked through that door wasn’t explain. It wasn’t apologize. It wasn’t reassure you that he was okay. 

No. 

He came in, looked you in the eye, and started a fight. Because that was what JJ did. That was all he knew how to do. 

You swallowed hard, watching him carefully. His lips parted like he wanted to say something else, but he hesitated. He looked wrecked. His body, his face, everything about him screamed exhaustion. 

He needed sleep. Maybe food. Maybe something stronger than that. 

But despite everything, despite how much he had pissed you off, how much he had hurt you, you still— God, you still cared. And you hated it. 

He wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the JJ you knew just days ago. He was looking at you like you were a stranger, like the past didn’t exist. But even after all that, even after everything he had done, if he asked for your help, you knew you would give it. 

Because you were an idiot. 

And because if there was even a small chance he would go back to the person you knew—the person you trusted—you would do whatever it took to bring him back. 

But you already knew how this would end. JJ had disappeared for three days after your first real fight. 

What the hell would he do the next time? 

When your eyes finally met his again, he swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw clenched. He took a step toward you, but there was still so much space between you. 

"I need you to tell me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember, or are you just pretending?" 

There was almost a glimmer of hope in his eyes—you could see it. But you struggled to understand what he was talking about. He kept asking you about something you didn’t even know. No clues, no hints, just vague words. 

How could he expect you to remember something you didn’t even know existed? 

“How the hell am I supposed to remember something you never told me?! What am I supposed to remember?” 

You stepped down a few more stairs, closing the distance between you. Your stomach was tight, knotted with frustration. You were impatient, and it showed. You were sick of JJ’s cryptic bullshit.

Clear and direct. That’s all you needed. 

"You don’t remember." 

JJ shook his head. The moment his eyes drifted away from you, something inside you snapped. Whether it was anger or sadness, you weren’t sure, but you had reached your limit. 

"JJ. I need you to be straight with me right now. What the hell are you talking about?" 

Your voice rose without meaning to, and you shut your eyes tight, pressing your lips together. For just a second—just one second—you had forgotten that Liliana was upstairs. 

You turned your head, glancing toward the staircase, checking if she had heard or if she was coming down. But then, you heard a chuckle. Your brows knitted together. You had hoped—really hoped—that it wasn’t what you thought. But of course, it was. 

You turned your head sharply, eyes locking onto JJ, and of course, he was the one laughing. 

Of course. 

You had no idea how much more frustrating this situation could get, but you were about to lose your mind. JJ clearly needed some sleep. Otherwise, you’d be the one knocking him out and forcing him to rest—with a punch. 

Taking a deep breath, you kept your gaze fixed on him. JJ was staring at the floor, muttering almost to himself, "I’m an idiot. The biggest one." 

The moment you saw him move toward the stairs, your heartbeat picked up. You hated the way your body reacted to him getting closer. Even after the argument. 

He couldn’t just walk past you like nothing had happened. You weren’t going to let that slide. Not a chance. 

As he moved to step around you, the clean scent of him hit your nose, making your whole body tense. So, he hadn’t been outside all night. He had stayed somewhere. He had fresh clothes on. That feeling deep in your stomach made you shut your eyes tight for a second. You didn’t know where he had been. You didn’t know whose place he had stayed at. And— 

Screw it. His life. 

You grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t resist, didn’t try to move past you. It was like he had already accepted whatever was coming. "Tell me what you mean." 

JJ didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed on the edge of the stairs. He took a slow, deep breath. "A promise. You made me a promise. That no matter what, we’d always be there for each other. That’s it." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he tried to move again. You stepped back quickly, blocking his path. This time, you were directly in front of him, but his eyes still refused to meet yours. You placed your hand on his chest, stopping him. "No, that’s not it. You’re lying. I know you." 

"Let it go." 

JJ shifted to move past you again, but you stepped in front of him once more. His chest brushed against yours, and for a second, your breath caught. He was standing on the lower step, yet he still towered over you. 

He could push you aside so easily. You both knew it. But he didn’t. 

Then, he lifted his head. The moment his eyes locked onto yours, you nearly stumbled. You felt like you should step back. Like you had to. But you didn’t. Not an inch. 

"JJ—" 

Your words died in your throat when his cold fingers touched your cheek. Your voice vanished. Unlike before, this time, he was looking directly at you. And you were certain—he was reading your mind. 

"Let it go," he murmured. "Like you said, all we do is hurt each other now." 

Hearing those words from him wasn’t the same as when you had said them. You were angry. But he—he was calm. Like he actually meant it. 

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. Before you could process it, the warmth between you vanished. Your hand, the one that had been resting against his chest, dropped to your side. 

JJ averted his gaze, stepping down one more stair. The distance between you suddenly felt like miles. Neither of you looked at each other. 

"I’m gonna check on Liliana. I promised her a beach day tomorrow." 

You let him walk past you.

As the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, a light breeze swept across the beach. The waves lapped gently against the shore, mingling with the cheerful shrieks of children playing in the sand. JJ dusted off his thin t-shirt as he stood up, rubbing his eyes with his fingers before calling out to the small figure in the distance. 

“Lily! Come on! It’s getting dark,” he shouted. 

Liliana ignored his voice for a moment, carefully placing the final touches on her sandcastle. Her tiny fingers delicately lined up seashells, completely focused on making her towers perfect. Her face held a sweet kind of determination. But JJ wasn’t in the mood to linger much longer. Something restless and heavy stirred inside him—an unease that had been lingering for days now. 

Ever since that fight with you. It had messed him up more than he wanted to admit—left him feeling like he just wanted to disappear. 

He didn’t realize how much he had hurt Liliana until he walked into her room that night. The way she ran up to him, eyes wide and desperate, shattered him. And it wasn’t just because of her. It was because of you, too. Because of the second fight. 

He never wanted to start a fight, but those stupid feelings—those goddamn feelings—had him all twisted up. 

And if there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head, it was kissing you. 

And then you had to go and mention Rafe, like it was nothing. Like it didn’t matter. Like it hadn’t been less than 24 hours since— 

Without even realizing it, he had brought Liliana back to the same beach where he had run into you. Only, this time, it wasn’t quiet. It was summer now, and the place was packed. Back then, it had been fall. Every time he glanced to the right, he could hear your voices in his head, replaying that conversation over and over. Every time he looked at the water, all he could see was the way you had laughed, the way you had splashed him, the way you had made him feel—light. Maybe that’s when it started. Maybe that’s when he started falling for you. He wasn’t sure. 

There had been other women since then—if you could even call them that. A handful, maybe. Dates that led to kisses that led to nothing. Nothing like what he had felt when he kissed you. 

You were water, and he was a man dying of thirst in the desert. 

For five years, he had taken other girls out on dates when it should’ve been you. It should’ve been you. 

But of course, you were drunk. JJ was just letting his mind run wild. You hadn’t been with anyone for five years, and people had needs—just like everyone else. Maybe, in that moment, he was just the most convenient option. You didn’t even remember. JJ had figured that out real quick. If you had, you would’ve said something. You would’ve reacted. 

But you just looked at him with those empty eyes, and it made him feel like absolute shit. 

He regretted it. And yet, he was grateful for it. It had pulled something out of him, something raw and real—something that probably should’ve stayed buried. 

He regretted it. He shouldn’t have done it. But he still wanted you to remember. 

No matter what happened, those moments shouldn’t have been just his to carry alone. 

Starting a fight had never been his goal. Swear to God. He just… hadn’t known how else to react. The kiss. You not remembering. And then Rafe. Like a slap in the face. 

He hadn’t wanted to leave, either. At least, not deep down. But if he had stayed, things would’ve just gotten worse. More fights. 

Was he sorry? Yeah. But was he angrier at himself than anything else? Also yeah. 

He ran a hand down his face and straightened up. As he watched Liliana keep working on her sandcastle, ignoring him completely, he took a deep breath. It was getting late. The sooner they got home, the faster she’d be asleep. 

He had just stepped forward to get her when a familiar laugh made his stomach drop. 

“Oh my God, are my eyes deceiving me?” 

JJ tensed. He knew that voice. Turning his head slightly, he saw three figures walking along the beach. He recognized them instantly—Topper, Kelce, and… Rafe. 

A punch to the chest would’ve been kinder. His hands curled into fists before he could stop himself. He hadn’t expected to see him again anytime soon. 

Kelce, always the cocky asshole, tilted his head with a smirk. “Man, you still alive?” His grin stretched wide, all teeth and mischief. 

Topper rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too. “We seriously thought you were dead. Swear to God.” 

JJ took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This was not the kind of run-in he was equipped to deal with right now. He glanced back quickly, checking on Liliana—still playing. Good. He let out a slow exhale. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Rafe muttered, turning to the others with an unimpressed look. His voice made JJ’s skin crawl. 

JJ’s gaze flicked over Rafe. He had changed over the years, but not enough. The same arrogant posture, the same cold stare. It took everything in him not to let the anger boiling inside spill over. It wasn’t just personal hate—he hated everything about Rafe. Every. Damn. Thing. 

Except for one. 

Liliana. 

“As you can see, I’m alive,” JJ said, his voice surprisingly steady. Even he wasn’t sure how he managed it. 

It wasn’t like he had any real grudge against Topper or Kelce. He just couldn’t stand them. But Rafe? 

He loathed his entire existence. 

Kelce raised an eyebrow, pointing his beer at JJ with an amused look. “Just outta curiosity—not that I actually give a shit—but where the hell have you been for the last four years? There was a time when people were saying your dad straight-up killed you.” 

JJ clenched his jaw but forced a smile. Funny. He never thought he’d be someone people speculated about. 

He had just left. 

For you. 

And he had thought about coming back. So many times. But then he saw Liliana. He saw you. And that made it impossible.

You could’ve handled everything on your own. He knew you would succeed no matter what. But you didn’t have to. You would’ve been fine alone—you would’ve found a way. JJ knew that. But forcing you to do it? That wasn’t really his style. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d walk away when he could make things easier for you, when he could help. 

Right now, his emotions were all over the place. His heart and mind weren’t on the same page. Especially when his brain kept screaming that he was going to lose you and Liliana. He was trying to pull himself together, but the second he got close to you, every logical thought in his body bailed on him. 

“So, since I’m standing here, I guess you figured out I didn’t do it. I was busy.” JJ cut straight to the point. There wasn’t much to explain. Especially not to them. 

Topper let out a loud laugh, stumbling as he nudged Kelce with his elbow. “I’d bet money he was out being a gigolo. The ladies’ favorite, right?” 

JJ rolled his eyes, annoyed. Same old dumb jokes, same pointless jabs… It was like time hadn’t moved at all. Like Topper was still that same kid from five years ago. 

How was it possible that while everyone else grew, evolved, added something to themselves, this guy was still stuck in the same childish loop? Had he seriously never done a single thing to improve himself? 

“Can we cut the crap?” Rafe muttered, eyes on the waves. He took a step back and sipped his beer. 

JJ realized just hearing his voice irritated him, so he quickly ducked down and kept gathering his stuff. The sooner he got out of here, the better. Especially after listening to these three run their mouths. 

Kelce grinned and turned to Rafe. “Come on, man! You don’t miss the old days?” 

“No. When are we getting on the boat?” 

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Kelce grumbled, glancing around. They were still standing in the same damn spot, as if there was nowhere else to be. 

JJ sighed, shaking his head. He really couldn’t stand them. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with it. Straightening up, he grabbed his bag. “Yeah, yeah. Seeing you guys was terrible. Have fun.” He moved faster now, desperate to leave. 

But then Topper tilted his head, smirking. “Not even gonna say ‘happy birthday,’ Jackson?” 

JJ’s fingers clenched around the strap of his bag. He inhaled sharply, then turned to glare at Topper. The old him would’ve fired back with some sarcastic remark. But not now. Now, he just wanted to be done with this. “Happy birthday, Topper.” 

Kelce’s grin widened as he stepped closer. “Be honest—you started escorting, didn’t you?” 

This time, JJ actually laughed. If he weren’t living with you and Liliana, maybe he would’ve. He could’ve made some serious cash. “As tempting as it is to be a millionaire with this face—no.” He picked up his pace, avoiding eye contact, pretending Rafe wasn’t even there. 

“Same old ego—” 

And then Liliana’s voice cut through the air. “Why didn’t you look at my tower?!” 

JJ’s head snapped up. Her voice hit him like a bolt of lightning, sending a jolt of panic straight through his chest. And then he saw it—Rafe standing right next to her. 

His blood ran cold. 

Rafe was focused on Liliana, standing just a little behind her, but watching her intently. They shouldn’t be that close. No. 

JJ moved instantly, stepping in front of Liliana like a human shield. He reached out and gently placed a hand on her hair, making sure Rafe couldn’t see her clearly. “I did look,” he said quickly, keeping his tone even, trying to act normal. His heart was hammering in his chest. He needed to leave. Now. 

But Rafe… Rafe was already staring at her. Of course, he’d seen you and Liliana before. And of course, he remembered her. 

Shit. 

Liliana turned toward her sandcastle, pointing at it with a tiny hand. “Can we take it home?” 

JJ tensed. He cleared his throat and shook his head. Normally, he would’ve found that adorable. But not now. Not in this situation. He couldn’t even react. He just needed to get the hell out of here. “No, sweetheart. It belongs here.” 

And there it was—the thing he hated. Talking to Liliana in front of Rafe. Living through this exact moment. 

Goddamn it, he should’ve never come to the beach today. 

“But—Mommy would love it,” Liliana said. 

JJ swallowed against the lump in his throat. He took her hand and pulled her back slightly, reaching for the beach bag. “Mommy will help you build a new one when she gets back. Come on, grab your bag. It’s time to go.” 

“A kid?!” 

Kelce’s voice rang out, full of shock and amusement. “Damn! Holy shit. So that’s it. That’s why you’ve been so busy? Jesus.” 

JJ clenched his jaw. He didn’t want him talking about Liliana. He didn’t want any of them talking about her. 

“Shut up, Kelce,” Rafe muttered. 

JJ hadn’t meant to, but his eyes flicked to Rafe—and what he saw made his stomach tighten. 

Rafe looked… off. His expression wasn’t just shock. It was something deeper. Confusion. Anger. A kind of helpless frustration. 

It was all tangled together on his face, like he was trying to make sense of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His gaze kept bouncing—from JJ to Liliana, then back to you. Over and over, like he was connecting invisible dots in his head. 

Like he was trying to put together a puzzle. His lips parted slightly, his brows furrowed. And then JJ realized. 

Rafe didn’t know. 

Rafe had only ever thought about you and Liliana. Just the two of you. Not you, Liliana, and JJ. In his mind, it had never included JJ. Because— 

You’d never told him. 

You never told Rafe that JJ was in your life. 

And now, standing there, he was staring at you like a complete idiot, his face frozen in stunned disbelief. JJ felt his chest tighten, anger bubbling up. He wasn’t even sure who he was mad at. 

But underneath that anger, there was something else. 

A dull, aching kind of hurt. 

How could you not tell him?

Were you really coming to JJ for his opinion on Rafe meeting Liliana… but couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him you had someone in your life? 

JJ couldn’t help it—he felt hurt. He didn’t know if you were a family, but you had shouted at him that he was Liliana’s parent. You had said it, whether he liked it or not. And yet—despite saying it to him—you hadn’t mentioned him to Rafe. 

Fuck. 

Rafe took a step forward, and JJ swallowed hard. God, he hated him with every fiber of his being. 

“What’s her name?” Rafe’s voice was ice-cold—just like his expression. 

JJ’s fist clenched. He pulled Liliana a little closer as he spoke. “None of your damn business.” 

But Rafe stepped toward the little girl. “What’s your name?” His voice was steadier this time, more certain. He already knew—he had figured it out—but he needed to hear it. He needed confirmation, and JJ knew that all too well. 

Still—no matter how much he despised Rafe, he wasn’t going to lose it in front of Liliana. 

The second Rafe moved in, JJ dropped the beach bag and stepped right in front of him. Their chests nearly collided, the tension between them sharp enough to cut through the air. 

Rafe didn’t take his eyes off Liliana. 

JJ, on the other hand, stared straight at him. 

Kelce and Topper immediately went on high alert. Topper even grabbed Rafe’s arm, giving it a small tug—but Rafe didn’t budge. Not even an inch. 

“Back the fuck off,” JJ’s voice was lethal. 

When it came to Liliana, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. 

Liliana, sensing that someone was talking to her, tilted her head up and answered sweetly, “Liliana! But my family calls me Lily.” 

JJ squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t want to do this in front of her. Fighting in front of Liliana wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he took a step back. 

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Kelce yanked Rafe’s arm harder this time, his face full of genuine confusion. 

Rafe staggered slightly, running a hand through his hair. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

His eyes kept darting between JJ and Liliana, his breaths coming out sharp and uneven. He was standing right by the ocean, in the open air, but somehow—it felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

JJ didn’t waste another second. He scooped Liliana up effortlessly. “Come on, Lily.” He grabbed the beach bag and turned. 

Then, just as he was about to leave, he glanced at Topper. For half a second, he debated whether to say anything at all. But in the end, he just sighed. “Happy birthday, Topper.” 

Liliana, ever the mimic, waved her little hand at him. “Happy birthday, Topper!” 

JJ walked off, moving fast. 

Meanwhile, Rafe stood frozen, stomach twisting, head spinning. He felt sick. He didn’t even know why—just that he couldn’t stand being here a second longer. And sure, it was Topper’s birthday, but right now? He couldn’t care less. 

What the hell was that? 

“What the hell was that, man?” Kelce echoed his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed. He was trying to make sense of what had just happened, but it wasn’t clicking. 

Rafe shook his head, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m not in the mood. I’m heading home.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t even look back. 

Topper let out a slow whistle, mumbling under his breath. 

“The fuck was that?”

When JJ slammed the door shut, the sharp sound echoed through the house, thickening the already tense air. His shoulders were tight, his fingers gripping the door handle for a brief second before slowly relaxing. 

Running a hand through his hair, he let out a tired breath. His shirt still carried the salty trace of the ocean breeze, clinging to him like the weight of the day. He tugged at the fabric absentmindedly, fingers reaching up to rub the tension from the back of his neck—until a noise from the kitchen caught his attention. 

The soft clang of a metal spoon against a pot rang through the quiet house, making it sound even louder. 

Without rushing, he made his way down the hallway. When he reached the kitchen doorway, he saw you. 

Your back was to him. You had the lid of a gently simmering pot lifted, stirring the contents with steady, deliberate movements. The steam rose, hitting your face, but you didn’t flinch or pull back. Your expression was blank as you stared into the pot, but the way you stirred—rough, almost aggressive—gave you away. 

JJ knew you’d heard him come in. 

The slight tensing of your shoulders. The momentary pause of the spoon in your hand. 

You knew he was there. But you didn’t look up. 

Of course, you knew he was home—but after that argument? You had decided you weren’t acknowledging him just yet. If he was going to act like an ass, you could too. 

“Where’s Lily?” you asked, frowning slightly. You would’ve heard her by now if she were home. 

“With Cleo,” JJ answered, voice even. He didn’t look at you either. 

Your brows knitted together. Liliana being at Cleo’s didn’t make sense. Why would she be there? You followed JJ as he headed toward the living room, still not sparing you a glance. 

“I thought you were at the beach?” you said, stepping out of the kitchen. 

“We were.” His voice was devoid of emotion. 

God, that attitude was pissing you off. He was still acting like this because of your fight? Really? Like a damn child. 

You took a sharp breath, trying to rein in your irritation. 

“Then why is Liliana with Cleo?” Your tone had an edge to it now. You weren’t letting this slide—he owed you an explanation. 

JJ dropped onto the couch and, for the first time since he got home, finally turned to look at you. “Because we need to talk, and I can’t do that with Liliana in the house.” 

Your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway, lifting a brow. “Oh? Thought you made yourself pretty damn clear this morning.” 

The memory of how he’d spoken to you earlier sent another wave of irritation through you. 

“And I don’t want to argue with you while Liliana’s home,” JJ continued, voice steady but tight with barely contained frustration. 

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So we’re gonna fight, huh? That’s what this is?” There was a mocking lilt to your tone. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you—fighting seemed to be all you two did lately. 

JJ let out a dry chuckle. “Not exactly out of character for us these days, is it?” 

Despite the sarcasm, you could hear the undercurrent of resentment in his voice. He was sick of this, just like you were. But neither of you seemed to know how to stop. 

You exhaled slowly, rubbing your temples. This was exhausting. The constant tension, the biting remarks, the thick air of resentment clinging to every room you shared. “What are you mad about now?” you finally asked. 

JJ laughed—but there wasn’t a single ounce of amusement in it. 

“The beach,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “We were there. And then, out of nowhere, your boyfriend shows up.” 

Your posture stiffened instantly. The fuck was he on about now? 

Your brows pulled together, irritation spiking. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

JJ’s smirk disappeared, face darkening. “Rafe. He showed up.” 

Your jaw clenched. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

He was acting like you had personally invited Rafe there, like you had orchestrated the whole thing. As if you had any control over where Rafe went and when. As if you even wanted to see him. 

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel, heading straight back to the kitchen. “You’re ridiculous.” 

JJ’s footsteps followed behind you almost instantly. 

You shook your head to yourself, already regretting even engaging in this conversation. You didn’t want to keep this fight going, didn’t want him following you, but you knew he wasn’t about to let it drop. 

“You really think I’m making shit up?” JJ’s voice was right behind you now. 

You grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring, refusing to look at him. “I don’t have time for your bullshit, especially not when you’re accusing me of stuff that makes no sense.” 

You heard the shuffle of his feet as he stepped into the kitchen. Your grip on the spoon tightened. 

“Oh, so I’m lying?” JJ’s voice dripped with mockery. “You two haven’t been talking again? What do you call that, then? A little romantic reunion, lovebirds?” 

Oh, he was doing this on purpose. You slammed the spatula down onto the counter, planting your hands on the marble. “For the love of God, will you just shut up?” 

JJ let out another humorless chuckle. “So this is where we’re at now?” 

Finally, you spun around to face him, leaning back against the counter. “I seriously cannot stand you right now. You show up just to pick a fight, then storm out like it’s my fault.” 

JJ spread his arms, smirk still plastered on his face. “So I’ve gone from best friend to unbearable? Great. That’s real fucking nice to hear.” 

That was it. Your patience snapped. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!” 

You were done. Done with the endless bickering, the passive-aggressive jabs, the way he kept pushing you for no reason. 

JJ’s smirk vanished instantly. His jaw tightened as he jabbed a finger in your direction, voice rising to match yours. “You! You are my fucking problem! You and whatever the hell you’ve been doing lately!” 

The room fell into an eerie silence. Your breaths were shallow, your heart pounding. JJ exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. 

You pressed your palms against the counter behind you, gripping it tightly. 

This wasn’t him. Not the JJ you knew. 

“I don’t understand you anymore,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve tried—but I just don’t.” 

JJ didn’t say a word. He didn’t even lift his head.

When you exhaled sharply, shaking your head, frustration tightened your chest. "I don’t understand you anymore either." 

You had always been upfront with him. Always. But he was leaving you hanging in this weird limbo, refusing to give you clarity while demanding it from you. He had no right to say that. You had never done anything to make things uncertain between you two. 

"I’ve always laid my cards on the table, JJ," you said, voice steady but edged with irritation. "If you don’t get me, it’s because you don’t want to." 

"Oh, sure. Of course," JJ scoffed, voice laced with sarcasm. He turned to leave, but then—he hesitated. And when he turned back, there was something unreadable in his eyes. 

"He didn’t know about me." The words slipped out so fast, they caught even him by surprise. 

"What?" You frowned, already preparing for whatever cryptic nonsense he was about to spout next. 

"Rafe," JJ clarified, jaw tightening. "He didn’t know about me." 

The realization hit you like a slap. So that was what this was about. 

You stared at him, waiting for him to say he was joking. Because surely—this had to be a joke. 

"You didn’t tell him about me?" JJ asked, his voice so serious it made your stomach twist. 

Your lips twitched slightly before you could stop them. A chuckle bubbled up, unbidden. You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to contain it, but it was no use. Laughter slipped through, soft and incredulous. 

"You seriously think I spend every second talking to him?" you asked, amusement cutting through your exasperation. "I’ve seen him, what, twice? And neither time lasted more than ten minutes." 

JJ’s expression darkened. He didn’t seem amused in the slightest. "And yet, you didn’t mention me. You didn’t think to tell him that I’m a part of Liliana’s life?" 

Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, so now you admit you have a say in Liliana’s life?" 

Because just this morning—hell, three days ago too—he had been going on and on about how he wasn’t her parent, how he had no claim over her. And now, suddenly, he cared? What, had a flower pot fallen on his head since the last time you spoke? 

You never knew which version of JJ you were going to get whenever he walked through that door. It was exhausting, trying to keep up. 

JJ opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but then he hesitated. You caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. 

You tilted your head, a little too entertained now. You knew him too well—knew this wasn’t just about Rafe. JJ was mad, sure, but there was something else underneath. Maybe even hurt. You had never really seen him like this before, but still, you knew him. Knew him down to his core. 

"You were practically screaming this morning about how you’re not a parent," you mused. "So what changed?" 

JJ rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Don’t twist my words." 

You scoffed. "Oh, I’m twisting your words? That’s rich, coming from you." 

His refusal to just talk to you like a normal person was pushing you past your limit. What was so hard about explaining himself? Why did he always have to turn everything into a fight? Did he really think you wouldn’t understand? 

You shook your head. "That’s your thing, not mine." Your voice was sharp now, laced with frustration you couldn’t hide. 

You hated this—hated fighting with him like this. It felt wrong. It felt like something was breaking. And all you wanted was to put it back together. But every time you tried, it just—fell apart again. 

JJ let out a dry, humorless laugh, looking away. "Unbelievable." 

You couldn’t read his expression anymore. And you hated that. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth before giving you that half-smirk, the one that usually meant trouble. Your eye twitched. Was he seriously about to keep this up? He was standing here, acting like the victim, when he was the one who disappeared for three days without a word? When he hadn’t even bothered to explain himself? 

You didn’t want to compare him to Rafe. You really, really didn’t. But right now—he was acting just like him. 

Your patience snapped. 

You took a step forward, pointing a finger at him. "You’re the one who’s unbelievable." Whatever amusement you had before was gone. "How old are you, JJ? Because you sure as hell don’t act like a grown man. You don’t talk like one. All you know how to do is run away and leave me to figure out your mess." 

JJ’s jaw tightened. He shook his head, like he refused to accept what you were saying. "Don’t. Just—don’t." 

You arched a brow, taking another step closer. 

You never thought it would get like this between you two. JJ had been—everything. Your best friend. Your partner in crime. The one person you could always count on. And yet, here you were, standing inches apart, breathing heavy, anger crackling between you like a live wire. 

"Oh, what? You don’t like what I’m saying?" You let out a bitter laugh. "What’s next, huh? You gonna throw all the things you’ve done for me in my face? Or maybe, this time, when things get too hard, you’ll just leave for good? You’ll walk away from me and Liliana—" 

A hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off mid-sentence. 

JJ had moved fast. Too fast. His eyes burned into yours, inches away, his palm firm but not forceful against your lips. His other hand—when had that landed on your waist? 

His voice was low, steady. "I would never do that." 

He held your gaze like he needed you to believe him. Like he was silently daring you to contradict him. His eyes flickered between yours, searching—pleading, even. 

But JJ was a liar. 

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, prying his hand away. He let you. He didn’t fight it. He moved with you, like he was mirroring your actions. Slow, controlled. 

"I don’t believe you," you said, not even hesitating. 

Maybe he wouldn’t leave. Maybe he really meant what he said. But you wanted to hurt him, just like he had hurt you. And for the first time, you saw it in his face. The flicker of something breaking.

Just as he stepped back, ready to retreat, the grip around your waist tightened. You couldn’t move.

JJ wasn’t going to let you have the last word. His gaze stayed locked onto yours, pupils blown wide. “I’m not that kind of person. You know that.” His voice was a low, angry whisper.

You swallowed hard. His breath fanned across your face. A part of you wanted to slap him, to take out every bit of pain and frustration from the past three days. You wanted him to pay for walking out on you, to shove him right back into whatever girl’s bed he had been crashing in.

You shook your head, eyes narrowing. He had no right to say this. Not after leaving you waiting by the door for three days straight. The JJ you knew—if he said he was coming back, he came back. He didn’t leave you staring at the door, wondering if he ever would.

“I don’t think I know you anymore.” Your voice was just as quiet as his, but you felt the sting of it in your own chest.

You hated the effect he had on you. Hated that he could still make you feel like this. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You were used to people walking away, used to getting hurt, used to betrayal. But JJ? You had leaned on him. He was supposed to be different. He had never let you down before.

And you know what? That made it hurt even worse.

JJ exhaled sharply, shaking his head. A bitter smirk ghosted his lips. “But you do,” he murmured.

You weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself.

“I don’t think so.”

You knew him better than anyone. That’s why you lied. Because deep down, you knew that if he just talked to you—if he just explained what the hell was going on—you wouldn’t even be fighting right now. But JJ was stubborn. Too stubborn. And you knew he’d never do that.

JJ took a half-step back, but his hand never left your waist. His brows lifted slightly. “So what now? What’s your next move?”

You shrugged. That wasn’t your problem. He was the one who needed to explain, the one who needed to apologize. Were you going to sit around and wait? No. You’d go back to Asheville alone if you had to. But he needed to say something. If this was how it was going to be, maybe your time as friends had run its course.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if you had just talked to me instead of throwing baseless accusations around, we wouldn’t even be here.”

JJ sucked in a sharp breath, stepping closer. His frustration radiated off him. “You drive me insane,” he muttered, his jaw tight. One hand ran through his hair, eyes squeezing shut.

You stared at him in disbelief. Oh, sure. Like this was your fault.

Before you could stop yourself, you shoved him—hard. He didn’t budge. If anything, the force just brought you closer to him. But you didn’t back down. You jabbed a finger into his chest.

“Oh, I drive you insane?” Your voice rose, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s making me lose my mind!”

How the hell was this getting turned around on you again? How did he always make it seem like you were the problem?

JJ opened his eyes, calm now, which only made your anger burn hotter. He tilted his head slightly, watching you. Everything about him irritated you in this moment. He didn’t even have to speak. Just existing right now was enough to piss you off.

His indifference. The way he had yelled at you earlier. The way he walked out, promising to come back but never did. The thought that he had been God-knows-where for three days, probably in someone else’s bed. The fact that when he finally returned, he acted like you were the one in the wrong. The never-ending fights. The accusations. The way he could still compare you to Rafe—

Your stomach twisted with disgust. Not just anger. Disgust.

How dare he? After everything, how could he act like this was just some normal breakup? Like you were just going to go crawling back? You almost lost the baby, for fuck’s sake. You spent four years suffering, and he was the first person to see that pain firsthand.

You trusted him. You—you loved him. And the first chance he got, he threw it back in your face like it was nothing.

Fuck him.

He had left you. He had made you wonder if he was ever coming back. And now? Now you were the bad guy? Again? Just like when you were pregnant and chose not to go through with the abortion? Just like every other time when somehow, it was always your fault?

Fuck that.

“You never listen to me,” you snapped. “I came to you for this decision, but you—”

You tried to explain yourself. Again. Even though you shouldn’t have to. You should just tell JJ to go to hell and be done with it. But here you were, still trying to make him understand.

Your voice faltered. Because you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But God, you wished you did. It would hurt a lot less if you could just hate him.

But before you could say anything else, JJ moved.

His hand caught yours, gripping it tight. Before you knew what was happening, he tugged you forward. His other arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer—

Then he dipped down, and before you could even register what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

For a moment, your brain blanked.

It didn’t last long.

Your free hand instinctively moved to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. You weren’t thinking. Every sound in your head shut off.

JJ’s hand tightened around your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles against your skin. The kiss deepened, urgent, like he was making up for every second he had spent away.

He guided you backward. You took a few steps before your lower back bumped against the kitchen counter. You barely even noticed. JJ made a quiet sound against your lips when you pulled him in closer by the nape of his neck.

His hands slid lower, fingers gripping at your hips. Your heart pounded. A warning, maybe. But you ignored it. You didn’t want to think about right or wrong right now.

Because this—this was right. JJ’s hands on you. The way your bodies fit together effortlessly. The way every movement, every kiss, felt like second nature.

Like you were made for this.

JJ’s hands moved, gripping beneath your thighs. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the counter. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, your hands flying to his shoulders.

Now you were eye level. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you in again, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You both pulled back at the same time, gasping for air. When your eyes met for just a second, something stirred inside you. JJ closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours, your uneven breaths the only sound filling the space. 

His hands stayed on your hips. As you tilted your head up slightly, his lips brushed against yours again. Your hand instinctively reached for his cheek, but this kiss was shorter than you expected. JJ turned his head away, breaking it off, and you licked your lips absentmindedly. 

Slowly, his hands slid away from your hips. His gaze was somewhere else as he cleared his throat, rubbing his head like he was trying to shake something off. 

"I'm sorry. I— I shouldn’t have done that." 

The words hit like a punch to the gut. 

Standing there, you felt completely exposed, like he had stripped you down to your very core. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears while your hands had turned ice cold. 

Had that really just happened? Had you imagined it? Because once again, JJ was acting like it hadn’t. 

Was he regretting it? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Right? 

Had you crossed a line? 

You didn’t know what was happening, why he had suddenly pulled away, but there was a burning sting at the tip of your nose. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

You moved to step down from the counter, his name on the tip of your tongue—but JJ took another step back. His eyes never once met yours. 

"I should go. I— I don’t know what I’m doing. I wasn’t thinking. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry." 

Then, without so much as a glance, he walked out of the kitchen. 

You stayed frozen where you were. The sound of a door closing echoed through the house moments later, making you flinch. 

He had left you again. Left you alone in this house, only this time, with even deeper wounds. 

You had no idea what would happen next—you weren’t a fortune teller. But what you did know was that the real question wasn’t about the future. It was about how you were ever supposed to trust him again. 

Because JJ had just erased five years of your past like they meant nothing. 

He had been the one to protect you, and the one to hurt you. The one to kiss you, and the one to walk away. 

And you? Where did you fit into this story? Were you always just the one left behind? 

There had to be a reason. A justification for why he had snapped, for why he kept pushing and pulling, for all of it. But the worst part? 

You weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it anymore. 

Your lips trembled as you shut your eyes. 

Five years later. Same island. Same feeling of being abandoned. 

Only the names had changed. 

Your mind replayed the image of Rafe walking out the door the moment he found out about Liliana. 

You had called Rafe a coward, hadn’t you? He was. But what about JJ? 

JJ was just another coward, just as fucked-up as the rest of them. Maybe the real mistake had been trusting anyone more than yourself in the first place. Maybe that’s what these last few days had been trying to tell you all along. 

Pathetic. 

You had trusted him more than you had ever trusted yourself. And for what? 

For him to run the first chance he got—just like the last one. 

Turns out, five years hadn’t changed a damn thing. Five years ago, you were an idiot. And now? 

Still the same damn fool.

[muchosbesitos]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME.ᐟ.ᐟ— featuring G. SATORU & G. SUGURU

cw: 18+ content, MDNI. threesome, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), consensual recording, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, etc.)

the first thing that they did when they heard about your breakup was laugh. not at you, of course, but rather at the situation. laugh at the tears you’d shed over a man they didn’t even deem worthy enough to look at you.

over the man who’d tried to buy you a soda from the dollar value menu when it was thing, only for his card to end up declining.

and the second thing that they did was take you out to the mall—buying you an expensive gucci necklace in the process.

not because of the brand itself, no, but rather the emblem on the necklace—the two intertwined g’s coated in swarovski crystals. crystals that glistened with even just the slightest sliver of light.

and now crystals that were glistening underneath your phone’s flash. the very same two g’s bounced off your chest with every thrust of satoru’s hips against your own, pushing your mouth even deeper down suguru’s cock—serving as a reminder of who exactly was making you cum now.

but it wasn’t enough for the two of them that there was a slight possibility your ex would see you with the necklace, they had to show him just exactly what he was missing out on.

“come on baby, look up at the camera f’me. tell your ex how it feels,” suguru cooed, using his thumb to wipe off some of the drool leaking down your parted lips. you moaned against his cock, looking up at the camera with tear streaked eyes. “so good, sug-fuck!” your words came out muffled, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“yeah?” satoru didn’t miss the opportunity to goad him on, one of his hands gripping your hip. the other moved to the small of your back, making you arch even further. “feels soo much better, huh? poor pussy’s been neglected, huh?”

you simply nodded, digging your nails into suguru’s thighs. even though you hadn’t responded, your cunt was more than happy to. loud squelches echoed throughout the room with every rhythmic plap! plap! of satoru’s thrusts, pussy dripping over his cock like a running faucet.

satoru took the phone from suguru, focusing the lens on where your greedy cunt was practically swallowing his cock inch by inch. “did he even make you cum, sweetheart? or did he just make you cry?” he taunted even further, rubbing small circles onto your hip with his thumb.

“n-no,” you turned your head back to look over at satoru, “said something was wrong with me.” suguru clicked his tongue, taking your chin and bending down to your level. “nothin’ wrong with you, angel. just everything wrong with your taste,” his hair tickled the sides of your face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against your own.

you went back to slobbering over suguru’s cock, hollowing your cheeks out in an attempt to take him further with each time satoru fucked you into it. satoru took the hand on your back, rubbing at your engorged clit with two fingers. “come for me, we got you. gonna take care of you, yeah?”

your legs shook with your impending orgasm, your nails practically digging into suguru’s thighs. “‘toru, fuck fuck, gonna cum, make me cum, please, plea-” incoherent babbles left your mouth before your orgasm washed over you like a wave. the release had your toes curl and your tongue loll out from the corner of your mouth, cunt dripping over satoru’s bedsheets.

“look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” satoru clicked his tongue, scooping up your essence with his finger before sticking it in his mouth, “tastes so sweet, so good. and you didn’t wanna put in the effort.”

“not like he’ll ever see her like this again,” suguru retorted, taking the phone to capture your fucked out expression, “you think she’s gonna be satisfied after she had us?” he tossed the phone to the side, sliding his cock out of your mouth.

you weren’t sure why you’d thought they’d be like your ex, when they’d proven to be nothing like him, but you still found yourself surprised to see that they were up for another round. nothing like the five minute quick and done that you’d grown.. regrettably accustomed to.

“come on, we got a year of orgasms to make up to you, pretty girl,” suguru eased you onto your back, the two of them kneeling in between your legs. he dipped his tongue into your hole, lapping up the mixture of satoru’s cum and your own.

“lemme get a taste,” satoru took suguru’s chin, facing him before their lips crashed together into a sloppy kiss. the exchange between the two was more spit and tongue rather than passion, pure desperation and lust filling them. droplets of spit (who’s? you weren’t completely sure) landed against your skin, the scene in front of you enough to have you pressing your legs together.

satoru licked his lips when he pulled away, glancing back over at you with a cocky smile on his face, “keep ‘em open, sweets. we didn’t forget about you.”

you didn’t even remember why you’d cried so hard over your ex by the time the night was over.

a/n: should prob stop writing w just my pussy ngl

[neovillains]

househusband!gojo cries every time you have to leave for work. gets on his knees practically begging you to take the day off. "you work so hard. you can spend one day not having to worry about a thing."

"'toru, baby," you giggle, leaning down to give him a peck on the lips. a peck will never suffice. "i called out two days in a row already for you. i can't just ditch work everyday because you need me."

"and, why not?"

househusband!gojo that makes sure to have all your meals ready on sunday morning. each bento box prepared with a different dish each day and makes sure to abide by your diet, if you have one. he preps them so nicely, always leaving a note that you have to hide away from your nosey coworkers. they think that the tall man is such an angel, but today's note says, "can't wait to have you bent over, my love. let me empty that full mind of yours."

househusband!gojo that makes sure to take you out on dates every friday afternoon because you're let off early. he uses the cash from his own account ── because he's rich, too ── and always does something extravagant, even if it's something down the road. if there's a will, there's a way.

househusband!gojo who stays true to his word in his notes to you. this time, he has your legs pressed to your chest, cock glazed over in your arousal and his pre. your eyes are glossy in tears, sobbing out in pleasure. "i can't take it anymore, 'toru. 's too much!"

he grits his teeth, "you can work more than forty hours in one week, but my pleasure is too much for you?"

a thumb presses down to your clit before leaning down, applying more pressure to your aching legs. a sickening smirk graces his features and in a moment, you believe he resembles the devil as he bucks his hips deep inside. his tip kisses your cervix, making you cry out in ecstasy. "don't be so dramatic."

( subscriptions. ) @r0ckst4rjk @blcknebula @tojirin @clqxuds @dreamingoftomorroww @s-1-xx @lotuslovers @mutsu422 @twinky-wink @levkuna @des-todoroki @for-hearthand-home @nanasukii28 @paintingchoso @strawberriesrule @w2twoo @stargirl-mayaa @ratedrrrr @gojoswaterbottle @princess-vibes25 @ravenbc @inzanekillian @saik-k @sukunaspillow @serendippindots @iveivory @explodingkittensss

[slapmeshigaraki]

biiig stretch

♡ pairings: rafayel, caleb x reader

♡ warnings: spit, condescension, slight dumbification, dirty talk, uhhhh caleb is a little grosser than i intended in this, both boys are pretty mean, feet, daddy, fingering, pussy eating, crying but like in a sexy way, mentions of overstimulation, one singular pussy slap, begging, barely proof read i wrote this shit at like 1am

♡ summary: how they handle a 'tight fit'

♡a/n: uhhhh these are a little mean so i apologize,, i was feral when i wrote this idk. also y'all pray for me for my midterms,, it's not looking too good rn lmaoo. enjoy lovelies xx

୨୧ rafayel ୨୧

"Angel, if you don't relax, it's not gonna fit." The mans voice was a soft whisper into your ear, his hot breath gently caressing your skin as his wandering hands explored every inch of your insides. Two of Rafayel's fingers were jammed into your drooling pussy, your juices soaking his palm with every movement that he made past your entrance. You were gripping him so tightly--too tightly now, your entire body tensing up as he tried to slide another finger inside of you.

"Don't be nervous--'m gonna take good care of you, yeah? Just gotta stretch this sweet little pussy open a bit before she can take my cock, right? You trust me, don't you?" Your thighs couldn't help but to weaken as you felt him place sloppy, wet kisses against the crook of your neck, his saliva dripping across your flesh as he toyed with your aching clit with his thumb.

"Y-yes, I trust you."

"Good. Then calm down for me, okay? Show me you can be good--let me inside." You could feel his soft lips form a smile against your skin as he squeezed a third digit inside of you, reveling in the way your body took him in so nicely. His free hand made its way to your mouth, two of his fingers tapping against your cheek, signaling for you to part your lips as he whispered into your ear once more, "Open up this hole for me too--fuckkk, good job, baby. Taking all of my fingers so well. You look so pretty when you get filled, does it feel good, angel girl?" All you could manage was a few muffled moans against his fingers as he jammed them further into your throat, matching the same intensity as the digits inside your other hole now.

"You gonna cum on my fingers again already? That's okay, don't hold it back. This pussy's gonna be so lubed up for me, making so many sweet juices. That's it cum for me, it's okay. I got you--" With no more than a couple pumps of his fingers inside of you, slamming against your g-spot with ease, and his filthy words fogging up your brain, your were cumming. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth, desperate to hear your moans uninhibited. The way you sang for him--god, he was so hungry to hear it again.

"Good fucking girl, so good for me, making a mess all over my fingers. You wanna try that on my cock next time, hm?" A fithy squelching sound rang in your ears as he slid his fingers out of your cunt, cream coating his hand as he readjusted himself, lining his wet and aching tip up with your hole.

"Wanna cum on your cock, but I don't think it's gonna fit." Your voice quivered as you felt Rafayel's hot flesh pressed against yours. You raised your head off the pillow a little, attempting to look down at the scene, but you were quickly interrupted.

"Shhh..." A soft kiss was pressed to your cheek, his hand gripping the side of your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Don't look down. Eyes on me, pretty girl. It's only gonna hurt for a second, okay? Just a little while and then I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good. I promise, angel." He was painfully hard, the wetness from his precum coating your lips as he slowly slid himself against you, brushing against your clit with every motion. He wanted nothing more than to force himself inside of you, to feel your gooey walls milking him, to hear the way you whined against him as he muffled your noises with his lips, forcing you to moan into his mouth--but he restrained himself.

"It's gonna hurt more if you don't relax a bit for me, baby. You don't need to be scared, you're already stretched open, remember? It's just the tip right now, but you gotta' tell me you can take it before I try to push it in." His other fingers, still coated in your cum were back on your clit now, slowly working your pussy just the way you liked as he continued rubbing his thick length against you. You'd seen it before, felt it through his pants, had it in your throat countless times, but this was different. You could barely fit him in your mouth for weeks, the feeling of taking him to the back of your throat brought tears to your eyes every time, so the thought of having to take him, all of him, inside of your cunt had your stomach in knots...but you wanted to feel him so bad, to see the way his angelic face contorted as he sung your praises, to have your hole clenching around his cock, to feel the warmth of his cum dripping out of you after he'd stuffed you full.

"Yes...want you to put it in. Promise I can take it." His lips met yours finally, pulling you in for a deep kiss, his tongue forcing yours into submission, desperately trying to keep you focused on anything other than the stretching sensation of his grithy cock squeezing between your walls. You whined out against his mouth, the pleasure of his fingers on your clit mixed with the subdued pain of his mushroom head inside of your tight cunt was enough to make you squirm beneath him. You had this man's mouth watering, your nimble fingers clawing against his back, leaving reddened marks on his skin as you softly moaned out his name. He'd never felt anything so good--so warm, so fucking wet in his entire life. He pulled his mouth back from yours, forcing your eyes to flutter open and lock with his once more, your lips swollen from the earlier attack.

"You took that so fucking good...my sweet girl." He kept playing with your clit, leaving little moans to slither out of your mouth as his other hand forced your leg down against the bed, the weight of his body leaving you completely exposed. "Now you have to trust me again, yeah? I'm gonna put the rest in now and you just have to take it okay...you promised me you would take it for me."

"Wait--no no I can't--"

"I can't wait any longer--fuck--I gotta feel this pussy wrapped around my whole cock. Just take a deep breath for me, okay?" You had no time left to protest before the stinging sensation overtook your body, the stretch bringing tears to your eyes, as the man whispered in your ear, "Biiig stretch...sorry angel, but look, you took it so good--like you were made to take my fucking cock. My perfect pretty girl."

"Feel so full, Rafayel," you whined and whimpered as he slowly rocked his hips back and forth into you, giving you time to adjust to his length after shoving it all in so brutally.

"I know baby, I know. No more tears...just feel good for me now." He continued pressing sloppy kisses onto your skin, his thumb sliding back down between your bodies, finding your clit with ease as he slowly rubbed tiny circles, his entire hand sticky with your wetness. You were back to moaning his name in no time, begging for more.

"See, angel...I told you I'd make it better, yeah? I'm sorry I had to hurt you. Now close your eyes and let me show this pussy some appreciation...she opened up so fucking well for me. It's the least I could do."

୨୧ caleb ୨୧

"Come on baby, give me one more. Let me taste you again." His voice was low, groaning as he looked up at you from between your plush thighs, his big rough hands kneading your flesh as his fat tongue cupped your pussy.

"No more, please just fuck me."

"Wow, you get fucking nasty when you wanna cum, huh? What's wrong, mama? You don't like my tongue?" You didn't answer, the overwhelming pleasure clouding your brain as your hole clenched around nothing, forcing more and more juices out and into Caleb's mouth. He knew just how to make you cum, and he had been mercilessly utilizing this skill for the last hour, the stimulation had been bringing tears to your eyes as he softly sucked your clit, lips latching onto your sensitive nub as his muscled arms pinned you in place.

"Answer me when I ask you a question." Without warning Caleb's grip on your thigh was gone, the warm feeling of his tongue against your cunt soon replaced by a harsh smack to your clit. You screamed out, the surprise of the stinging pain effortlessly catching you off guard.

"Fuck yes I like your tongue. Just--I just wanna feel you...please Caleb."

"Can't fuck you if you can't listen when I'm talking to ya'. Gotta focus for me for just a little longer, okay? Just need you a little bit wetter, wanna see this pussy dripping all over the bed." Caleb was fucking mean when he got like this, pupils dialated, mouth salivating at the taste of you, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as he shoved his tongue past your tight entrance as you cursed under your breath. It took no time for you to cum again, hips rising off of the mattress, bucking into Caleb's face as he used his weight to press you back down--not wanting to give you the chance to escape his tongue before he was ready.

"Fuckkk you taste so good--so fucking sweet, I could eat this pussy all day."

"No no no please I need to feel you inside of me. I want your dick so bad." Caleb was elated, violet eyes widened in surprise at the disgusting words that were coming out of such a pretty mouth--he'd corrupted you and he liked it.

"Yeah? You want me to stretch that little pussy out, hm?" He couldn't hide the sinister grin that was slowly spreading across his lips as you moaned and begged for his dick inside of you, it made his balls ache just at the thought of watching you try to take all of him inside...he'd dreamed of this moment a million times before.

You watched him, subconsciously biting your lips as he slowly slid his fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down, letting his thick cock spring free. He was so hard, you could practically see his length throbbing as he reached for your hand, placing your delicate fingers around his shaft. "Don't be scared of it, mama. It's not gonna bite--just stroke it for me, okay? Get used to the way it feels in your hand first." You were immediately taken aback at the sheer size of his dick. You'd never seen it before, only felt it through his pants when he'd tell you to come sit on his lap after a long day or when it'd press against the small of your back while he rubbed himself into you as you two cuddled in bed. He was so responsive to your touch, his toned abs tensing and shivering each time he felt your thumb run across the sensitive tip of his cock, relishing in the way his precum was soiling your fingertips as you fisted his length. "Shittt...your fingers are so fucking soft. Wait wait wait, hands off--fuck" The sight of Caleb quivering beneath your touch was intoxicating, his sweaty body glistening, lips still wet with your juices as he licked and bit his bottom lip, desperately trying not to let any moans escape; it only made you want to touch him more, faster, harder. A few more seconds and your hand would be covered in his cum, but just before he was about to lose all composure, you felt him grip your wrist, snatching your fingers away from him.

"When I say hands off--" He was gripping you tightly now, pushing you back down onto the bed, forcing your arms above your head as he growled into your ear, pressing his full length against your soft tummy, "I mean take your fucking hands off."

"Are you that big of a whore that you can't follow instructions? Just want my cum any way you can get it, huh? Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll give you what you want." His big hand effortless held both of your ankles together, pressing your thighs into your stomach, folding you in half and giving him a full view of your soaking heat. You couldn't help but to moan out his name as he slid himself between your lips, his thick cock brushing against your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, coating himself in your juices.

"Say my name..." It was a plea, a desperate request moaned out above the sound of your whines.

"Caleb...please."

"Nuh uh, you know that's not what I want to hear. Come on pretty girl, lemme hear you say it. Beg for me. I fucking need it." You knew exactly what he'd wanted and under any other circumstances, the embarrassment probably would've made you hide your face in your hands, cheeks burning from the humiliation, but you were so fucking wet and needy that it hurt--you'd do anything, say anything just to feel him.

"Please daddy... I want you inside of me." He took a sharp inhale as the words left your lips, groaning in pleasure, shutting his eyes tightly to keep himself from cumming on the spot. You soon felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, slowly forcing itself inside of your hole, but it was a much tighter fit than you'd initially thought. He wrapped his arm around your legs now, biceps flexing, veins enlarged, forcing your soft thighs against his chest, exposing your clit so his free hand could spread your lips apart, giving him an even better view.

"Baby...you're too tensed. I'm not gonna be able to get inside if you don't loosen this pussy up for me a little bit. You gotta' relax for daddy," You couldn't even respond before you felt a streak of wetness across your leg, his tongue licking from your knee all the way to your ankle.

"I'm gonna try something, yeah? Don't freak out, okay? Just let it feel good. Be a big girl and trust me for a second. Daddy promises it's gonna feel so fucking good. Just close your eyes." You did, and almost immediately, a wave of pleasure washed over you as you felt that same wetness swipe across the sole of your foot, one of your manicured toes being gently sucked into the man's mouth. The second he heard a gasp leave your lips, he pushed the tip in. "Good girl... so fucking sweet for me. That's it--i'm gonna put the rest of it in, okay, just keep feeling good for me and I'm gonna rub your little clit faster." The pace of his fingers quickened, his mouth continuing to lick and suck on every inch of your foot as the vibrations from his moans tickled your flesh. You opened your eyes now, meeting his gaze--you both looked fucking filthy, covered in each other's sweat, bodies entangled as he forced the rest of himself between your tight walls. "Fuckkkk there we go...biiig stretch, shittt. You look so pretty like this, sweet little hole sucking my dick so good. I'm gonna be still for a second, yeah? Let you get used to it." He really did want to give you time to adjust, but he just couldn't stay still, every subtle shiver or twitch of his body made you wriggle around beneath his grasp until you just couldn't fucking take it anymore.

"Daddy... please. I need you to move." A sigh of relief fell from his lips... a minute longer and he would've came inside of you without warning. He wasted no time rocking his hips into you slowly, stretching you with every small movement. He placed his big hand on your stomach, admiring the way he could see his bulge through your flesh.

"You feel me right here? I'm so fucking deep inside you--you're taking it like a fucking champ. My pretty girl... I swear I'm gonna get you fucking pregnant."

[luvrsluxe]

IN TOO DEEP - JEY USO

Summary: A short while after making things official, Jey learns a little more about his gym girlfriend's past - which leads to a not so pleasant secret being revealed.

Pairing: personal trainer! jey uso x black! fem reader

Word Count: 9.23k (...finale for a reason... also not perfectly proofread!)

Warnings: 18+/NSFW under the cut, fluffy headcanons (i gotta be nice, first), kissing, mentions of marriage & pregnancy, ANGST, backdooring (we hate carmelo), breakup, timeskip of a month, a lot of crying (both), arguments, make-up sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f! receiving), slow n sensual (lovemaking if you squint really hard) multiple positions, cliffhanger (i would say i'm sorry... but I’m not).

Author's Note: pls grab a box of tissues... that's all. i luv them, and i appreciate you guys for being SO receptive of this concept. it's not the end for them, but they'll be gone for a minute after this.

(p.s.: u can always request standalone stories unrelated to this timeline - personal trainer! jey is so special to me and i'll always be happy to write something about him). happy reading luvs.

Inspo:

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

Part 3 is here

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

personal trainer! jey uso is the boyfriend who's ensuring his girl's always well pampered between workouts. Be it that he's the one providing a deep tissue massage, handing her the black card for a new lululemon set to add to her cart, or simply cuddling with her in the warm suds of an epsom salt bath, he's intentional on making sure she relaxes and can reset properly.

"Did so good today, baby. You're a natural; m'so proud of you."

personal trainer! jey uso is the boyfriend that helps you set up your new space in his house, clumsily getting tangled up in fairy lights and lifting every single box into your new room. He can't afford to not spend time with you - and besides, it saves you a long and often lonely commute to his home gym.

personal trainer! jey uso is the boyfriend that falls in love with the version of you outside the gym workouts. Having lived together for about three months, he's keen to help you cook in the kitchen, usually chopping up meats or vegetables, and almost always stealing the first bites when doing a taste test. He loves and learns your favourite recipes, taking time out of his schedule to do ingredient runs while you're away in classes. On one particular day, you arrive after a long study session with your friends and immediately, the smell of a warm, homecooked meal floods your senses.

"Thought you'd want something from home. Y'told me your mom taught you this recipe." He says with the softest of grins, almost sheepish - he's hoping it does her recipe justice.

personal trainer! jey uso is the boyfriend that is so head over heels... so incredibly head over heels in love with you - that when he finally says those three words, he's all choked up. Someone who'd once been noncomittal, and nonchalant about getting into a serious relationship had seen himself change in a matter of months. 8 months to be exact. And when he hears you repeat those same three words, it feels like he's been dipped into a cool, refreshing stream - a new path carved for the two of you to navigate the sweet love that had been building up in the last little while.

"M'thinking... I might marry her uce, just maybe." He'd said to Jimmy, and his older twin quite literally jumped for joy. "I love her... she loves me. We're growing together, man."

personal trainer! jey uso is the boyfriend that puts in work, constantly spoiling you to the point you'll cancel a meeting just to spend a little more time with him at home. After that night in the jacuzzi, he can't ever get his hands off of you. From delicate feather-like touches whilst running errands to raw and primal pleasures consumed in the bedroom; you had the best of both worlds with this man.

"I wanna spend forever witchu, baby girl." He said sleepily after one particularly intense night together. It'd become a routined thing for him to say, reaffirming he was only for you and wanted nothing else that the world had to offer.

"I'd like that. And I want it just as much, Jey."

The two of you were so happy, so in love... so at peace with each other.

For now.

-----------

"I'm hoooooooooooome!" You sang out, slinging your bookbag over your shoulder, the sight of your boyfriend casually lounging in the living room causing your smile to widen only further.

"Yo' cute ass is finally home.... thought I was gonna die without you bein' back." He said, pulling you into the warmth of his chest. His hand finds yours, an immediate reflex that had become part of the routined touches shared between the two of you.

You squeeze it, his slightly calloused fingers interlocking with your slimmer ones. It felt like home - safe, sound, and secure.

"How was work, baby?" You quipped, resting your head against his chest. He sighs, a deep rumble vibrating through you. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, chuckling softly as he answers.

"Same old... new patrons, new trainers to coach...and we're opening two locations in Florida and in California. Jimmy and Solo gon' manage them while I'm here witchu, livin' that 'domestic' lifestyle." He teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He noticed the coils sticking out of your bun, and reached back gently to undo the hairstyle.

"You so gorgeous, ma." He husks, squeezing your hand again. The rate at which he complimented you wasn't a new thing as of late, but it always caught you off guard.

"You're one to talk, Jey." You chuckled, pulling back to grab a snack from the fridge, but he tugs you right back into his chest. The sudden movement has you squealing, and he hugs you tight, making it impossible to leave his affectionate embrace.

"Boy... whatchu doin'?" Your voice is muffled by his bicep, evidently bigger since he's been working out consistently. "M'hungryyyyyy..."

The soft whine makes him grin, baring his gold grill as he looks down at you. "I know but you gon' sit... I made you something." He whispers, guiding you to the sofa. He jogs back to the fridge, grabbing a couple of side plates and a tray of what appears to be homemade cinnamon buns, topped with sticky sweet frosting.

"Surprise, mamas."

He smirks as your eyes widen - they're freshly made, the frosting coating each pastry intricately. You'd always known he was good with his hands, but there was something so romantic and sweet about him wanting you to relax and indulge in the sweet things he had to offer.

"Are you kidding, baby? These look incredible." You mused softly, watching him put the plates and tray of sweet treats down on the coffee table. "Fuck, you spoil me way too much. Part of me feels like I don't deserve it at all."

"How many times am I going to repeat myself, huh? You changed me f'the better, alright... you and me forever." He murmurs, taking a seat beside you. "You made me a better man, mama. M'gon' be doin' things for you whenever... but m'gon' spoil you all the time too."

The two of you sat hand in hand, and he cuts out a piece, holding it in his hand. You lean in, taking a bite as he watches. There’s a certain twinkle of mischief in them; partially because he knows he’s mastered the art of making your favourite desserts… and the other part being that he’s aware he owns another treat you’ve grown accustomed to getting multiple times a week.

“Makin’ babymaking facial expressions while eating dessert, hm?” He jokes, taking a bite of the cinnamon roll in turn. “Baby making… man, if you don’t stop playin’!” You giggled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. “Not that I’d be opposed to being a mama in the future, once I’m working and married.” You added, snatching the snack from his hand and finishing it off.

"You'd make such a good mom, sweetheart." He whispers, grabbing a second cinnamon roll. He notices a little frosting on your bottom lip, and he carefully brushes it off with his thumb. "Any man would be lucky to have you take care of his kids...and damn, if we stay growin' together... m'puttin' a ring on that finger and we're makin' a football team." He teases, taking a bite of the treat as you burst into a fit of giggles.

"Is this your way of saying you have wedding and baby fever, Jey?" You quip, laying your head on his chest. He tears off another piece of the dessert, handing it to you as you listen to his heartbeat. He gives you a knowing look, chuckling softly as the two of you finish off the rest of the pastries in a comfortable silence.

"Maybe I do... Maybe m'seein' we got a forever thing going on, ma." He finally replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. It's a soft, sincere little peck - one that leaves you giddy and wanting more in the moment.

The tender moment stops however, when he gets a phone call.

"Ay, I'll be there. I gotchu, I'll be there, uce."

The call is short, but you wouldn't miss that voice anywhere. Jimmy was the one who'd called him. When he disconnects the call, Jey stands up, squeezing your hand once more.

"Training Team Debrief tonight... y'wanna come with me?" He says, pulling you to your feet.

"Is everyone going to be there?" You quip back, arms crossed against your chest. IT didn't necessarily matter that the team was there, but Jey's brow furrowed at the question.

"Does that matter? We've been public for some time now, mamas. Nothin' bad s'gon happen to you if you go and socialize."

You nod your head, playing off your nervousness. He notices, stepping forward to wrap you in a warm hug.

"Carmelo's going to be there. I'd suggest steerin' clear of him, hm?" He advises, pulling away to grab his gym bag, leaving you in the living room with a head full of neverending thoughts.

More specifically, a ridiculously large pit of dread.

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

Upon arrival at the gym, Jey's quick to interlock his fingers with yours, squeezing softly as he led you inside. The usual bustle of trainers, machines, and eager patrons created the perfect harmony of a busy gym night. When you both scan your cards in, you're greeted by a very smug expression, worn on the face of one of the newer hires - Leila.

"Took y'all long enough; you've been gone for nearly three months." She scoffs, giving you a look so vile, you nearly thwack her in her jaw.

"If you cared so much about my whereabouts, you would've called me." You snap back, pushing past her angrily. Jey shoots her a glance, and she can't help but bat her eyelashes in return.

"Spent all those months fucking her... and you don't even know the truth about her, Jey." She purrs, causing Jey to freeze up. The fact that you weren't there to defend yourself in the moment worsened the blow, but a part of him wanted to hear what Leila had to say. She was a silent observer, after all.

"Why do you think your little girlfriend hates me, huh? Think about it, Jey. I'm Melo's best friend... I knew her before you knew her." She began, and Jey shrugs, clearly unbothered.

"What's Carmelo gotta do with y'all bein' friends?" He says, the slight clench in his jaw causing Leila to caution her tone. "What, did he do somethin'?"

"We can't talk about this out here. Just... come this way." She whispers, leading him to the usual offices he worked in at the gym. Upon entry, she shuts the door and sits across from him, tapping her pink nails on the table.

"I swear if this is a waste of my time, Lei...." Jey mutters, but she silences him immediately.

"Oh believe me, it isn't a waste. She's wasting your time by not being honest with you." She retorts, pursing her lips as he taps his foot impatiently. She whips out her phone, airdropping him a voice message that had been left behind by you.

It was from a few months ago... about 11 months, to be precise. Two months before you'd signed up for his training sessions.

"Press play, Jey." Leila chuckles smugly, leaning back in her chair.

He does.

"I'm so over this shit, baby. So over it. Y'keep askin' about the damn gym, askin' about who I'm with. Whole time, I been yours. Provided you solace, comfort, compassion - fucked your doubts outta yo' damn head."

The voice belonged to Carmelo Hayes.

Jey tensed, saying a silent prayer that it wasn't you on the other end of the phone. The way he addressed you - rash, unbothered, and somehow over you.

"Melo... how long are you going to keep getting mad at me? I can't worry about my boyfriend and how fucking suspicious you've been. You were supposed to be my confidant, but you run amuck talking shit and fuckin' someone else."

Your voice on the call was shaky, as if you'd been crying. The tremor made Jey's heart sink, and he clutched onto the phone a little tighter.

"You said you wouldn't let go of me, Carmelo. You....lied. Gosh, you're so..." Your voice breaks, and as Jey listens to Carmelo berate your reasonable doubts, he can't help but be puzzled at Leila.

"She ain't cheating, uce. He treated her badly." Jey says quietly, sniffling briskly to calm himself down.

"No... this is contextual, dumbass. Go to the next one." Leila chuckles, a hand over her mouth as Jey clicks the next one. The date on it... was one week after Jey had started training you. As in, one week after the steamy moment in the sauna. The beginning of the hiatus, before the two of you had made up in the Escalade.

"Thought we were working on us, babe. I get it, you needed a distraction in that damn trainer... but he doesn't put it down like Melo does, you know that."

"Believe me, I... it's temporary. Jey's great, like really fucking great... but.... we both know where home is."

The former tremor in your voice is gone - laced with venom instead. The audible smirk on your lips causes Jey to curse under his breath, scoffing bitterly.

Leila leans forward, noticing the somber expression on Jey's face. At this rate, he's fighting not to get emotional. At the time, it was noncommittal - he was noncommittal. He wasn't ready for a relationship, but you'd changed him.

"We made up after all this, Leila. Sure, it stings a little bit but..." He began, only for her to cut him off.

"She never confirmed or told you that she currently works with him, spends days with him on campus, and that they're partners on a major project right now, huh? She leaves early in the mornings because he picks her up, spoils her, and brings her home to your doorstep. He's still important to her, and if you actually considered the clear hints... you wouldn't have gone too far. His hand was around her waist when she came back to the gym, Jey." She adds, and Jey's fists clench involuntarily.

"M'gon' need you t'leave, Leila. Please."

His chest hurt, hearing the truth. It made him question the whole purpose of the workout sessions - was he the other man? Did Carmelo even know how deep things were for you both? Not to mention, he helped you move into his gigantic penthouse, gave you a beautiful room tailored to your preference, and his puppies had grown fond of their new mama.

What's more, is he talked about wanting to marry you earlier. To raise a family together - it gutted him that only a month ago, he'd told Jimmy he was planning to pop the question soon.

Leila smirks softly, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "She ain't for you, and until you realize this whole charade was a ruse to break your noncommittal mold and use you to her advantage, you're a lost cause."

When the door shuts, Jey fists his pocket - his soft hand enclosed around the soft velvety box. The very box that held that very ring - the very ring he wanted to propose to you with.

He takes it out, opening the small box in a swift motion. The clear cut diamond, the pretty silver band; fit for a princess.

The perfect fit for you. But clearly, it meant nothing now.

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

An hour later, you've finished your workout and are all washed up. Your skin shimmered, as it always did but was concealed under sweatpants and a compression shirt that highlighted your midriff, the soft glint of your bellybutton piercing catching Jey's eye. He steps out, somewhat angry - the expression on his face was unreadable.

Your heart sinks, unaware of what had transpired while you worked out.

"Are you okay, baby?" You whisper, slipping your smaller hand into his. He nods, but his frame remains rigid, stoic, frozen.

"M'fine. Rough night s'all... let's go home." He says, the quieter baritone in his voice slightly unfamiliar. Just as you grab the door, Carmelo steps out of the office, grinning smugly.

"S'bout time he knew the truth about us." He grins, and tears spring to your eyes. He paces forward, only for Jey to step between you and Carmelo, your former ex.

“Yo’ ass ain’t serious, uce. Runnin’ them gums gon’ get you in trouble.” Jey grits out, shoving him forcefully before stepping out of the gym, not looking back at you. Your eyes sting, tears brimming as you take one pitiful glance at Melo, who's holding onto his shoulder.

If looks could kill - you would've vanished into thin air. The pure distaste with which Melo sneered rendered your knees to feel like heavy cinder blocks. Your chest heaved, shaky breaths being taken to calm your quiet sobs. Jey hadn't gone too far, and he when he turned to see where you stood, it was as if the happier halo that he often saw around you had been extinguished.

It hurt like a scar, sustained from emotional turmoil. He still loved you, he could never not. But until he could come to terms, he had to figure out how to give the two of you some space.

Rather than loiter much longer, Jey comes back into the gym, socking Melo in the jaw hard enough that the man falls back onto the ground. He wanted to throw another punch - perhaps engage in a fistfight, but it wasn't worth it.

"Yo' ass is banned from my gyms, and you can go ahead and let Leila know she's fired. If I catch y'all again on my property... or in my gyms in Cali or Florida... ay, man. Tread lightly."

He turns to you, his dark brown eyes appearing sad and downturned. "C'mon mama, s'been a long night."

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

The drive home was quiet, save for the soft sobs you tried so hard to muffle in your jacket. Upon arrival, Jey let you go in first while he stopped by to check on his three pitbulls, who were sound asleep. He wrapped his fist around the soft velvet box in his pocket, sighing as he silently decided his proposal was going to be put on hold.

He'd booked tickets to Florida and California to show you the new gyms and get his brothers to meet you, eventually ending the one month trip with a family dinner and him getting down on one knee.

That plan however, was now scrapped. He'd been trying so hard not to break down, but when he opened the safe where he'd kept the ring out of sight, tears stained his cheeks. Part of him wondered if he fucked up, if he wasn't clear about how he felt, or if he needed to do more to convince you that he loved you beyond understanding.

His sobs are quiet, but they're interruped when he hears a soft patter of paws across the floor. There was something special about his dogs, as they were his usual companions before you came along. He turns, meeting three pairs of equally sad, downturned eyes in his pups, and they waste no time in comforting him.

"Mumble, Jax, and Pongo...." He says softly, petting each of their heads as they surrounded him. He stays with them for a while, appreciating the affectionate time spent with his dogs before he has to send them back to bed. He too, needed to sleep on the huge reveal - and consider what steps to take next.

Once the three pitbulls are back in their dog pen, Jey makes a beeline for his room, noticing you'd shut your door. This was new to him, as the two of you often reminisced about the day and chatted for hours on end before going to sleep. He was hoping tonight would've been a special night; a step closer to the 'forever' that he'd dreamed of with you.

You sat quietly in your room, knees huddled to your chest, sobbing uncontrollably. You had no clue what had transpired, but you knew that the secret was out. What you didn't know was that only part of the story had been shown - through Leila. Leila had not mentioned that after the night in the Escalade, you'd cut things off with Carmelo, besides the work partners part. That was beyond your control.

The carpooling was convenient, but it only lasted a month - and that was because Carmelo had stopped being serious about the project altogether, causing you to do all of the heavy lifting. Every time you came back to Jey's house out of breath, it was from taking one bus, to a train, and a short walk to his part of Atlanta. You could drive, but you didn't have a car.

Leila never mentioned to Jey that she was also a good friend to you, before the entire Carmelo situationship happened. She never spoke on how well the two of you got on, as if you were sisters. It was clear she set out to ruin your reputation, misrepresent the entire nature of the relationship, and drive a wedge between you and your boyfriend.

Jey leaned against your door, listening to the soft hiccups of your sobs. He wanted to talk to you, hold onto you, reassure you that this was just a bump in the road. But again, you didn't deny any of the voice messages he had heard.

"I was right when I said I didn't deserve him." He hears you mumble faintly, and his heart sinks. He darts away from the door, slamming the door to his room. His hands tug through his mullet, and he slumps, sitting on the carpeted floor in disbelief.

"How could I be so fuckin' blind, huh?" He mutters, staying there for a few moments, letting the messages replay in his mind. "She knows where home is, huh? Funny, 'cause I know where my home is too."

He gets up, grabbing his travel bag and suitcase, sending his brothers a series of messages. He needed a break.

A break from Atlanta, a break from work, and a break from...

You.

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

The night was lonesome, and when the sun finally rose, you rolled over to see a big pair of round eyes peeking at you from the duvet.

Pongo.

"What's goin' on, bub?" You murmur sleepily, only for Pongo to bark softly. That's when you hear the slight jangle of keys, meaning Jey was downstairs already. Usually, if you two weren't sleeping in the same bed, he'd bring you a coffee to your room, kiss you until you were a blushing mess, and sometimes, if he knew you weren't going to work early, he'd settle between your thighs and make up for lost time.

This was different.

You pulled on one of his YEET hoodies, a pair of shorts and slippers as you rushed down to see him. It gutted you to see how good he looked.

He'd grown fond of wearing different hats as of late, opting for a black knit beanie atop his curly, brownish mullet. The entire outfit was the usual black Nike cargo pants and a compression hoodie. No hint of a grin was on his lips as he tied his Panda dunks.

"J-Jey."

He flinches.

"Mornin."

No petname, no quick squeeze, nothing but that two syllable greeting.

"Yo-You're all packed up...?" You quipped softly, noticing the packed luggage. He nods, standing up to face you.

"M'gon' be gone for a month, mama. I... learned a lot of shit yesterday - shit I wished you told me. Not Leila, not Carmelo. You." He began, and his voice betrayed the tough facade he was trying to maintain.

"You're leaving...because of some bullshit that happened MONTHS ago? When you were noncommittal, when we hadn't made up. C'mon now, Jey." You plead, hanging your head as you look down at your slippers.

"I would've wanted to be told he was driving you to work, to campus...I would've appreciated if you had let me know the history was beyond flirty DMs on Instagram when you ditched the gym. You told him you loved him, ain't you? Y'let him see parts of you that I've seen... that I've taken care of. You tore your walls down for him and built them up when it wasn't fuckin' convenient for you, huh?"

As he spoke, he tilts your chin upwards, and the tears fall. A neverending stream of sorrow, splattered onto your cheeks. His thumb is an instant reflex, brushing them away delicately.

"Can we just talk about this, please?" You mumble, the soft request echoed by Pongo's quiet pants as the pup sat at your feet. "Things happened, yes. But... gosh, baby. I mean it when I say that I only want you."

Jey felt his heart nearly seize, and he knew if he stayed any longer, he'd fall back into old habits, rather than give the two of you some space to grow apart and decompress.

"We'll talk when m'back. M'not gon' kick you out of here, though. My mama ain't raised me to be disrespectful. You can stay, and the pups will be here to keep you company. M'gon' be gone awhile." He mutters, brushing one more tear away from your cheek. "Right now, I can't be with you. So m'takin' a step back for myself, and do the right thing for us both."

You nod, and he continues.

"This whole thing," he resumes, straightening out his shoulders. "this shit is done."

Tears stream down his cheeks and you instinctively cup his cheek, brushing them away softly. He wanted to give into the tenderness, the familiar feeling of your hand on his cheek, but he pulls back, wiping the rest away with the back of his sleeve.

The one thing he does, which makes the split sting a little more is take your hand once more.

"I wanna... nah, I need to remember this feeling before I go." He says quietly, and you squeeze his hand. He returns it once more, pulling away to grab his things and head for the Uber waiting for him.

"Jey."

"I'll be safe. Y'ain't gotta worry 'bout me anymore, alright. M'cool."

When the door shuts, your heart practically shatters. Pongo whines as you sob again, the throbbing headache comprised of the night's prior instances and now, a breakup.

No more boxing lessons, no more giggles before bed, no more sweet treats - just the bitter sting of a split.

Jey was gone - and given his known impulsiveness, you knew he would be petty while in Florida and California. He'd be back in his hoochie shorts soon enough, and the bond you two had built together would be meaningless in due course.

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

3 WEEKS LATER

"Aye man, explain this to me again. She was with Carmelo, at a time you two weren't even labeled as an item?"

Jey's jaw tensed as he sat alongside his brother, Solo, at an In-N-Out burger spot in San Francisco, a short drive away from their childhood home. He nods, gnawing on a fry as his younger brother chuckles.

"Yo' ass crashed out over the fact she ain't tell you that? I get that jealousy can fuck up your understanding but -"

"Uce, she been hangin' with 'ole boy on her campus. They fucked two nights before she came back to the gym, and she told me nothing disclosed was a lie." Jey said bitterly, and Solo nods.

"You still love her, don't you? You can’t bring yourself to admit it right now, but you love her… right?"

Jey tensed, a soft smile on his lips when he remembered you. He wondered what you'd been up to, but couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"I do. I don't be checkin' on her though - the space is needed, uce."

Solo smirks at that, crossing his arms. He could see right through his brother’s rebuttal. "Even if it is, yo' ass gon' crack first... she been active on Instagram with Pongo, Jax, and Mumble." He then hands Jey his phone, and sure enough, you've posted a selfie with each of the puppies, captioning it as "mama on duty."

He didn't drop the phone right away, noticing that in the two weeks he'd been away, the gym had been seeing you. There was a renewed confidence on your face, the very same one he'd encountered nine months ago. The usual coils you'd worn in a bun were blown out in a silk press, and you sported one of the lululemon sets he'd bought you a few weeks prior to the split.

"She's beautiful, man. And the pups love her, uce. There's somethin' special about her - I didn't even wanna leave when she'd pleaded for me to stay." He confessed, sniffling quietly before handing Solo his phone.

"I get it. And I think y'gotta hear her out, sooner or later. She obviously has some things she didn't get to explain. She heard you out on your past; it's time you let her do the same, uce."

Jey nods, finishing up his fries as Solo spoke. His younger brother wasn't entirely wrong - the two of you hadn't spoken before he left. When they're done with their meal, they head to the gym.

Meanwhile, you were busy at home, drafting a report for the project that Carmelo had ultimately left in your hands after you cut him off. The last three weeks had been decent, having been productive in your various ventures and spending time with the puppies. Pongo had been running back and forth between your various projects, bringing Mumble and Jax with him whenever food was being prepared. Despite their company, you still felt empty.

You missed him.

The no contact period was nearly completed, meaning he would be in Florida soon and then back to Atlanta. Back to the house, the pups, and the gym.

Back to you.... you weren't so sure.

As you put together the final revision of your project, your phone lights up.

uceyjucey added to their story

"...Oh." You whispered, clicking the notification after a brief moment. The photo was of him, Solo, and Jimmy at the gym location in San Francisco.

You sigh quietly, placing the phone down - only for it to buzz again.

uceyjucey sent a message

______________

"I think yo' ass is a little worried she got somethin' with Melo, uce." Jimmy said, as Solo spotted Jey's bench press workout. Jey bared his teeth, lifting the weights effortlessly as Solo stood at his head, arms outstretched in case Jey needed assistance.

"I definitely was; still tryna wrap my head around it all. I'm less mad at her - Carmelo though... he gon' get this work." Jey scoffed in response, finishing his final set as he wiped his brow. His twin nodded, arms crossed.

"You texted her, ain't you?" He chuckled, and Jey nodded. "Knew yo' ass couldn't maintain the no contact."

"I asked about the puppies and if she needed a card top up, uce. Nothing about me coming back." He muttered, and his brothers scowled angrily.

"...You're impossible, Jey. Pick up that weight again, man. Two more sets."

By the time Jey was done, he felt exhausted. The sweat on his skin formed a thin sheen, and he was exhaling loudly. "Damn, man." He mutters under his breath, grabbing a towel to wipe his face.

Upon checking his phone, he'd received a number of notifications, some of them from his various social medias, and one particular text message from a certain Creative Director.

Sure, the Florida trip was meant for him to see the gym and reconnect with his family and friends. But it was also the location of the WWE Performance Center. Jey had taken time off to manage his businesses, and there were only three months left until he'd return to the ring. The meeting with Hunter was to set out a timeline, determine his schedules, and given his popularity - allow him to carve out a new return unlike anything he'd done before.

"She don't know about yo' plans with WWE, uce?" Jimmy mutters, snapping Jey out of his trance. "She ain't know you were wrestlin'?"

"Nah she knows, uce. I told her awhile back, and it's on the website too." Jey retorts, exhaling angrily as he clicks his phone off.

"Listen.... this meeting ain't set for another month. I'll dish off this damn report right now. The gym's great, thanks to me and Trinity takin' care of things, uce. The staff is performing at a peak standard, and Zilla takes care of things when I'm on SmackDown."

As Jimmy elaborates on the gym operations, Solo places a hand on Jey's shoulder. "Flight takes off first thing tomorrow morning. Go and get your girl back, uce. Seriously."

"Alright. It's settled."

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

4AM, ATLANTA

You were snuggled up in your room, Pongo at the edge of your bed as you flicked through old photos of you and Jey on your phone. The soft bass of Rihanna's voice echoed out of your speaker, filling up the empty void to a reasonable extent. Just as you adjust in your bed, Pongo barks, darting to the door.

"Wait... Pongo, hold on." You hissed, sliding off of your bed and running out to see what had alerted the eager pitbull. Once in the hallway, your breath hitches.

Pongo was curled up near his feet, and Jey had crouched to pet him. "Hey Pongo... s'been so long, hasn't it, huh?" He coos, and the pup barks eagerly in return. You noticed his leg tattoos appeared touched up - sharper than the last time you'd seen them.

When he stands up, his eyes soften at the sight of you. You were in plaid pajama pants, and one of his shirts that you'd cropped out of boredom, as well as your fuzzy socks. It took you a moment to scan him over, noting the black hoochie shorts he'd worn, along with his usual Air Force One sneakers and one of his cropped muscle tanks under an unzipped hoodie. The look - a callback to the first night you two met.

"You're home early." You finally said, leaning against the wall. You wanted to be nonchalant, but you loved him way too much to pretend that you weren't excited he'd returned a week earlier than he said. "How was the trip, Jey?"

"Fine. Stayed in Cali with my brothers, ma." He husks softly, stepping closer to you. "You and the boys held up well, right?" He quips, clenching and unclenching his jaw as you averted your gaze.

"They enjoyed their time with their mama, I'll say that much." You whispered, stepping back from him.

"Y'ain't answered my message."

"There was nothing to say. You checked on the dogs, Jey. Obviously we were in a no contact period, so why would I engage with you? You said it yourself, we're done." You say harshly, making a beeline for your room. "Leftovers are in the fridge, alright. M'goin' to sleep."

Jey let you get a head start, following you after a few minutes. He stops at your doorway, only to walk to his room and drop off his bags. He takes a couple breaths, reminding himself of the advice his brothers relayed to him.

Let her speak. Let her clear her air. And if all else fails, they'd figure out where to go from there.

He changes briefly, replacing the shorts with his usual black sweatpants, the glint of his cuban resting on his bare chest. When he's done freshening up, he takes one more breath, shutting his eyes and remembering the one thing that grounded him.

The memory of squeezing your hand before he left, and you returning the gesture was engrained and on replay. You were his person - you had made him a better man. It was now up to him to actually be that better man, and give you an opportunity to clear the air once and for all.

He walks quietly to your door, knocking gently. From the inside, you sit up, eventually giving him a chance to speak to you.

"Door's unlocked, baby."

Jey's chest caves at the familiar term of endearment, echoed sleepily as he walks in. The soft glow of the LED lights form a halo around you, something like that of an angel.

"You wanna talk?"

You turn to look at him, noting how the light hits right on his cuban, the gleam of his tanned skin, and his gold grill as he asks the question you've waited to hear for nearly a month.

"Let's talk."

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

When he sits across from you on the bed, you can't help but smile. It feels like old times being renewed, and he beckons you into his arms.

"C'mere, baby." He pleads, yearning to feel your head on his bare chest. You scoff slgihtly, shaking your head.

"Lemme just... get this shit off of my chest. Alright?" You began, shuffling to shit beside him instead of across from him. "I completely get why you felt the way you did, okay? Especially after the fact you reassured me, explained your noncomittal track record to me, and confessed that... you wanted a future with me. But I was scared, Jey. Scared to get shut out, disparaged, and berated to the point of not wanting to try again. And as for that bitch, Leila... she was a good friend to me. Like a sister. Y'know how you are with some of the guys, like Bron or Damian... homies."

He listens intently, wincing at the sound of Leila's name. The one responsible for driving the two of you apart in the first place.

"Yes, the messages were me. It was how I felt in the moment with Carmelo. After all, he was my first relationship after my shitty ex. I joined the boxing thing to get back at him - not the first ex, no. But Carmelo... we were in a rocky on and off situation the first time I cut him off." You whisper, taking a deep breath to calm the boiling agitation in your chest.

"I should've said something, Jey. I... after the day in the sauna, I left because I still loved Melo at the time. I did."

Jey shifts, stroking your forearm as you continued to explain things to him. He never fell in love when he was casual and noncomittal. He wouldn't have understood the gravity of your scenario if you'd told him so soon. But you taught him how to love; how to give himself to you in a way so intimate that it sometimes left him puzzled in a way he could accept.

"I hear you, mama. M'still listening."

You move your arm from his grasp, taking his hand in yours instead. His breath gets caught up at the gesture, and you squeeze immediately.

He squeezes back, reaching up to brush a stray tear from the bridge of your nose as you resume speaking. "I feel like such a fucking idiot, Jey - two days... before the night in the parking lot, Melo and I got together....we fucked. It wasn't good, given he was there for a quickie. He'd said he had something with WWE going on, and wouldn't be able to stay long." You mumble, and Jey's thumb rubs soft circles on your hand as you carry on.

"Leila sent me a message the night after the Escalade; after I said I was yours. All I gotta say about what was sent, was that Carmelo wasn't shit. He got with her, is currently dating her and had been cheating on me with her the whole time." You added, and Jey shakes his head in disbelief.

"So yo mean to tell me.... Leila's his girlfriend with the child?" He quips, and you nod.

"After the Escalade night, I knew I didn't want a relationship with anyone that wasn't you. Sure, you rendered me unable to walk for a good week or two, but besides that... there was passion, a serious attention you exuded that I couldn't get enough of. You cared about me... and still do now. I got to workout here, have sleepovers, bond with your puppies.... and then... the night at the club, when Melo tried to make you jealous and... fuckin' hell, Jey... I'm just so sorry I didn't say anything sooner."

Jey doesn't say anything as he mulls over everything, and you rest your head on his shoulder. You're drained from the stress caused in such a short period of time, wanting nothing more to turn back time to when Jey had taped your hands for the first time, and taught you how to punch, jab, and uppercut in record time.

"I want you to know that if you're completely done with me... I understand. I get it." You added, and he tsks, muttering a "hell nah" under his breath.

"I told you that I loved you, mama. That still stands. Regardless of what fuckin' happened."

Your heartbeat quickens, and you finally look up at him, meeting the big brown eyes you've grown so fond of. They're more dilated under the soft fairy lights in your bedroom, twinkling slightly as if he's torn between smiling and crying.

"My brothers gave me clarity, and updates on you every now and then. I wanted you to have your space, rather than bombard you with questions and make you feel bad. The way Leila painted only half the picture broke my heart, mama. It did. And shit, maybe it's because I love hard. I don't play about my family, and I don't play about my woman either."

He struggles to keep speaking, letting the tears fall onto his cheeks. "I can't afford to let you go; you're a part of me I cannot lose. And I mean it when I say that I'm sorry I wasn't patient enough that night to hear you out."

You nod at his words, squeezing his hand. He returns it, and you brush his tears away. Seeing him so vulnerable and open tugged at your heartstrings in a way different from the usual conversations.

"We're good, I promise." He mumbles, and you look up at him, the weight in the air lifted almost instantly.

"Yeah, we are." You whispered, pulling him into a hug. A full body hug - the kind where heartbeats seem to blend into one perfect melody, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. His signature scent of vanilla, coconut, and amber feel like home.

When he pulls back, he presses his lips to yours briefly. It's careful, tentative, and in a way, Jey's unsure if he should have proceeded with it. He stands corrected however, when you return the favour tenfold, kissing him back in a way unfamiliar to him. It's not meant to be quick or frantic. He pulls you into his lap, his soft hands gripping onto your clothed thighs, helping you roll your hips slowly as his tongue gently parts your lips with every kiss exchanged between the two of you.

The quiet yet unmistakable plea from your lips is like music to his ears, and he groans softly when you find a slow pace that teeters along the lines of teasing. His hands continue to guide your hips, eventually sculpting every bit of your torso, noting mentally how every inch of your body felt under his hands. When he reaches the cropped shirt you're wearing, he lifts it off gently, pulling away from the kiss for a moment to admire your body.

"You're breathtaking, baby girl. So damn beautiful."

You could cry, growing shy as he squeezes your supple breasts through your sports bra, wasting no time in taking it off. "M'never goin' to get over how perfect you are, y'know that right? He mumbles, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your sternum as you tremble in his lap.

"Mm..." The incoherent whine drives Jey to carry on with his praises, as he presses another wet kiss to the swell of one of your breasts. He then takes it into his mouth, looking up at you dangerously, the other hand occupied with kneading your other breast deliberately.

"Jey, baby...please." You whisper, barely audible as he sucks on your skin, the sound echoing in your ears. On a particularly sharp suck, your back arches inwards, and your manicured nails find his nape, tugging at the curls as he pulls off, baring his bottom grill.

"Y'just so fuckin' sweet, mamas." He husks, dragging his tongue sensually across your chest. When his lips find your other breast, you squeal softly, grinding against his hips at the slow, dragged out pace.

All you want with him in that moment is to feel.

"Fuck, Jey."

He smirks, dragging his fanged grill teasingly across your skin before meeting your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue finds yours, and he kisses you deep, wanting to blot out every doubt either of you had about the very relationship you had built over the past few months.

The gentle rut of your hips has him tightening his grip on your hips, and he bucks up; the exact same way he did on the hip thrust bench when the two of you had first met.

"Modified version, huh?" You giggled, alluding to that first time together. He smirks back, increasing his pace.

"You actin' like I forgot about this." He teases, bucking a few more times into you before he lays you on your back and kisses the pretty silver pierced jewel on your bellybutton.

"Could never forget about this... could never ever let you go, sweetheart." He purrs softly.

He's gentle, taking the time to untie your pajama pants, slinking them down your thick thighs. His mouth waters at the sight of you sprawled out, and all he wants to lavish on you until dawn.

"You're staring, baby." You say softly, disrupting his thoughts. He grins, settling on his knees and presses a kiss to the center of your black lace panties, eliciting a needy moan from your lips.

"I'll stare at you all day, ma. How could I not?" He hums, stretching your panties until they're tight against your clit. You buck immediately, the friction caused by the lace sending you into overdrive as he watches you intently. "You just... don't see what you do to me." He whispers, licking his thick tongue against your partially covered pussy.

"F-fuck-" You wail out, tossing your head back when he laps your folds slowly, stopping to tug your panties off. He pockets the lace with a smug grin before placing his palms on your inner thighs. He places his thumb on your clit, causing you to whimper his name delicately.

"You ready f'me?" He asks, tugging your lower body a little closer to him.

He knows you're ready. He could read your body language like an encyclopedia, able to see what made you quiver, squirm, and shudder in pleasure. Regardless, he wants to make you aware that all he needs is you, in this present moment.

"Always."

When his mouth returns to you throbbing clit, it's at a slow pace. Like he's trying to devour you at a pace - he doesn't want you to forget a damn thing.

Your jaw slackens, and your hips buck up once, twice, three times before he pins your thighs down. "Just feel it mama. Just let me take care of you, the way you deserve."

The slight scrape of his beard, the brush of his soft nose against your pussy, and his ravenous mouth combined for a messy sensory overload, and all you can do is beg for him not to stop. He complies, suckling your clit until your eyes rolled back, much to his delight. When he feels you push his head a little more, he tosses each of your legs onto his shoulders, but it isn't enough.

You want more.

"So sweet, pretty girl. Just so fucking sweet f'me." He chuckles, spreading your folds apart as he dips his tongue into you, and your thighs trap his head. He groans at the change in position, the vibrations pulsing against your pussy and causing arousal to pool in your lower belly.

"So damn deep, baby. Fuck me, just like that." You garbled out, each word dragged out due to his neverending ministrations. Your nails tug a little harder when you feel that familiar coil of pleasure snap, and he notices almost instantly. He lifts his head up, meeting your eyes as he rubs your soft mound with his index and middle fingers.

“Gon’ head mama - you earned this.” He urges, trapping your clit between his thick fingers, sucking your folds once more as you shook uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me. “

His low timbre voice has you feral, and cling onto the sheets for dear life as he drinks every last drop you have to offer. At a point, it’s too overwhelming, but it feels too good for you to want him to stop. “P-please…Jey.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” He whispers, leaning up to look at you. His lips, beard, and chest gleam with remnants of your sweet mess. “Tell me whatchu need right now, aight?”

You struggle to form a sentence, simply pulling him on top of you. His Cuban dangles, and you tug on it to bring him closer to you. “Y-You. Just you.”

In a swift action, he sheds his sweatpants and boxers, his thick length smacking the ridges of his lower abs. He pumps himself twice, given he’d already grown so aroused from eating you out. His tip glistens with precum, evidently eager to be sheathed between your legs.

He taps your pussy with his tip, causing you to jolt up onto your elbows, and he uses one hand to grip your hip, guiding both of your legs to wrap around his hips as he pushes in. He’s so big, and it’s reflected in how you squeeze him in, causing him to growl under his breath.

“Shit, that’s it, baby. Just take it, one inch at a time, ma. Wanna fill you in every sense of the word.” He grunts, and you pull him into a lazy kiss, sighing in pleasure as he completely bottoms out. His other hand finds its way around your neck, not to choke you out, but just to keep you in place. When he thrusts the first time, it feels better than the last time the two of you were intimate.

“It’s so…good, daddy. So fuckin’ deep in me.” You whispered against his lips, and he giggles softly, which in turn gives you butterflies. As he finds his pace, the sound of skin against skin drowns out every doubt you ever had about the future with him. If anything, it ascertains that you were both made for each other.

“Such a pretty pussy, ma. She knows where home is… and damn, I do too.” He admits, pressing kisses down your neck and holding onto you tight as you welcome him deeper into you. His tip finds your cervix in due course, and your wanton moans only drive him to keep going. “Mm, there you go baby, just hang onto me. Hold out f’me.”

You can’t help but clench around him like a sweet vice, and he curses under his breath, knowing how close you are to your orgasm. He looks down at your pretty face, whispering sweet nothings meant only for you. The sight of his darkened eyes, the droplets of sweat rolling down his chest, the swift exhales of his breath as he thrust deeper into you, maintaining the slow and steady pace he’d established - he himself looked like sex personified.

“I feel y-you, right there, Jey. P-please I…” You faltered, and he nods, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Take what you need, mamas. M’yours, forever.” He whispers, and sure enough, you tremble through your second climax of the night. Tears stream down your cheeks, and he kisses them away. The tenderness with which he treated you - it was more than just sex between the two of you.

It was a physical committment.

His thrusts grow sloppy with every breath he takes, and he furrows his brow when he fills you to the brim. The lewd squelch echoes in the room as he slows down a little more, not wanting a single drop wasted. You cling onto him tightly, mewling a myriad of expletives and his name in turn, and you can't help but squeeze your velvety walls around his length.

You could handle one more round. Just one more.

He rolls you onto your side, making sure that you're comfortable, and drapes his arm across your waist. His hand slips into yours, just as he thrusts into you, slow and steady, exhaling shakily in tune with your saccharine whimpers. You squeeze his hand, a plea to let him know you can take it.

As he grips onto your hip, he thrusts a little harder - not in a rough way, but rather to emphasize just how bad he needs to be with you. It's echoed further when he groans your name under his breath.

That, in itself was a first.

Addressing you as who you were, beyond just his sweetheart, his princess, his soulmate... he wanted you to feel connected to him beyond just affectionate petnames.

Two lovers entwined in an intimate dance made solely for them.

"I love you more and more everyday." He whispers, and you turn to look over at him, teetering between uttering a thousand more moans, or acknowledging his words.

"Jeyyy..." You whine out softly, his thrusts only accelerating as he feels you clamp tightly around him, and he groans into your neck.

"I know, baby. I know... let it all out."

It isn't long before you feel that arousal course through you, soaking his dick obscenely. You shudder through the aftershocks, squeezing his hand as he grunts, painting your velvet walls with his seed.

"I love you too, Jey."

You cup his face with your free hand, as he rests inside of you for a while. He can't help but feel at home, and at peace.

"Not too rough, was I?" He quips, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you trace his chest tattoos. You giggle, shaking your head.

"Not rough enough. But honestly, this felt special. It felt different. Something new."

He nods.

"Just like your new adventures, when you go back to the ring. And win championships...and be a star, y'know." You carried on, the slight break in your voice causing him to wince.

"M'gon' be here with the boys every night watching when you're out there." You whispered, and he chuckles at that.

"Just make sure Jax and Mumble don't drag lil Pongo around, hm?" He teases.

As the two of you eventually drift off to sleep, everything seems to be perfect. The two of you set in stride, and graduated from boxing lessons and petty arguments.

For now.

—————-

iMessage

Unknown Number: You took what was mine, so I’ll take what’s yours (1 Attachment)

Jimmy: Y’all need to come down to Cali, stat. The gym, uce….it’s over. it’s done.

Instagram

carmelo_wwe: You wanted your heroic storyline, uce... y'got it. It's personal now.

_________________________________________

tags: @4milly @charmed-dreamssss @cyberdejos2 @prettyfilmz @trippinsorrows @lov3rla03 @uceyliyahh @fearlesschimera @playgurlxoxo @spiicii @theusotwinzcom @punksyeet @usoinked @kenshisluvrgirl @420days @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @clubsoft @empressdede @sheaabuttaababyy @mselenalovebug @sayyestoheav3nn @shantinextdoor @minsingular @zillasvilla @theninthwonder @whatdoeseverybodywant @christinabae @whowrotethenote

to be tagged in future works, just comment <3

[quokkicidal]

Bf!skz thoughts…

Gnere: Established relationship, fluff,

Warnings: None

Pairing: OT8 x gn!reader (separate)

A/N: I cant stop thinking about bf skz and I’m such a hopeless romantic…

Requests open

Masterlist

Chan:

Whenever he’s away on tour or even filming SKZCode, he always makes sure to bring you something back. Oh they were on tour and they had a concert in Australia? Expect him to bring back so many snacks because you “need to taste his childhood.” His parents also got you a little gift because they are so excited to meet you one day. He will also send you a bunch of pictures of the places he goes to. Especially if they have a concert in a city they’ve never been to before, Chan is blowing up your phone with photos. He’s also the type to send you a picture of the most obscure stuffed animal and be like, “this reminded me of you.” And you’re just like, “Huh???” Once he gets home, expect to be home bound for the next few days. He will not let you go. Oh you have a doctors appointment? Not anymore. Not actually, he’ll just be very pouty and do the fake baby cry (the “im foive” type cry) he does until you walk out the door. He just misses you so much and almost hugs the life out of you.

Minho:

He will always send you pictures of the cats. As soon as his mom sends it to him, he sends it immediately to you, even if you’re sitting right next to him. Your favorites are the ones where he’s actually in the picture, on the rare occasion he gets to see his parents and cats. He‘ll send you videos of him playing with the cats and say “you really need to meet them.” His mom even said hi to you through the video. You wanted to meet them so badly but your schedule didn’t line up this time. His mom asked for your number so she can also send you photos of the babies, but she actually would send you photos of baby Minho. You smiled every time she sent them because she’d give you a little backstory of the photo as well. The whole time he was at his parents, he would occasionally FaceTime you and the cats made an appearance, Soonie ended up on his lap, staring at you through the phone and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Changbin:

This man loves wearing matching gym clothes with you. Whenever he buys a new muscle tee, you get one in the exact same color. Progress photos go hard because of this, and if he would post those photos on instagram, he knows that stays would love it. Though, anytime someone else tries to spot you at the gym, this man thinks to himself, “do you not see the matching outfits?” It’s a subtle form of possessiveness but it’s also cute because you guys get a lot of compliments over it. Sends his progress pics to the guys and says, “do you guys like the fits??” Jeongin calls him cheesy, but you know he’s just teasing. Has a pic of you as his lock screen, and ofc you’re in gym clothes. Specifically the dark navy muscle tee with the sakura branches on it, he said it made your eyes pop. Definitely not because you look absolutely stunning and he just loves looking at you. But you guys are the cutest at the gym.

Hyunjin:

He leaves drawings of you on the fridge of your apartment. He said it’s so you’re reminded of how he sees you. Basically telling you that he loves you. He will always tell you what he’s working on, and even if you don’t have a creative side, he almost teaches you. Like color theory, shading all the good stuff. But if he’s working on a drawing or painting something, whenever he takes a break, he sends you a picture. When they’re on tour, he will also send you photos of beautiful city’s, skyscrapers, to beach horizons. He always thinks of you when he takes pictures, thinking to himself, “I should send this to Y/N.” Don’t forget the pictures the members take of him, he also sends you those and says that he wishes you were in them. Also the type to have his lock screen e a picture of you, but it’s one of his drawings of you, gotta be careful in public ya know.

Jisung:

Kisses, lots of kisses before he goes on tour. He just wants to be around you every second he can because he’s not going to be able to see you for months. Every time you face him, his lips are on your cheek, your forehead, your nose, and your lips. He try his best to hangout with you as much as he can, sometimes you would even watch the boys practice just to be in their presence. Also because you love watching them practice and just goof off. If he knows you’re watching him specifically, he’ll be a bit more eccentric to make you laugh. During their break, he’ll sit next to you on the couch while hugging you and rocking you side to side fake crying and saying he needs a nap. Once practice is over, you go over his and Minhos shared dorm. You order food for you and they guys, so by the time they’re done, it’s here. “I’m so hungry oh my god I’m gonna die!” Jisung says as he runs to where you set up the food. “Thank you baby, that was such a good idea.” He said while starting to eat. “You’re very welcome, I need to send you off well nourished or Chris will ask me whats wrong.” You laughed. “ I have to be in that old mans custody for three months!! Say it ain’t so!!” You laughed at his dramatics. After you ate, it was cuddle time. Jisung put on From Me to You (a very good anime) and you two just relaxed together.

Felix:

When he’s not on tour, you two spend a lot of time playing video games. Seungmin and Jeongin occasionally join if you’re playing Overwatch. Though, if you’re in the mood to play Stardew Valley, he is so down. You guys have the cutest little farm and he names all the animals after the members. He’s in charge of the animals and you’re in charge of the crops. He’s determined to marry you in the game, because little do you know, one day he hopes to marry you in real life. The names of the animals that aren’t named after the members are his baby name ideas. Will decorate your farm with statues and obelisks. He hates Lewis. He’s the number one Lewis hater. While he’s on tour, he tries to find a promise ring to give you when he gets back.

Seungmin:

Whenever you have to go back home and visit family, he understands what it feels like to you when he goes on tour. “Do you have to go? Just invite your family to Korea?” You laughed at him “My parents don’t do planes unfortunately, but I could probably convince them in the future.” If his member saw the way had his arms around your waist and head eating on your shoulder, they would be clowning him so hard. Seungmin doesn’t care what he looks like right now, he just doesn’t want you to leave him. Yea, he knows you’ll be back but there will be two whole weeks where he can’t physically be in your presence. He’s a little clingy, but that’s okay. He usually gets like this before you or him leave for longer periods of time. Although, when you’re back home you call everyday. Your parents even wanted to see him over FaceTime and he got nervous but introduced himself. You send him pictures of your hometown and he can’t help but to imagine if he grew up with you. “We would have been best friends”, he thinks. Once you’re back, you give him all the baseball cards, clothes and snacks you got him. You spent half of your night cuddling, opening baseball cards and looking up who is who.

Jeongin:

If you wanted fashion advice, you got it. If you didn’t want fashion advice, you still got it. He’s the type to find something in the store and think it suites you, and then he builds a whole outfit based on that piece. When he’s on tour, he picks up pieces for you because he knows that you’d like it. Some designer pieces here and there. He just loves creating outfits for you and he’ll always send you pictures of them. He also loves sending you pictures of his and the boys outfits before they go on stage. He also sends .5 angle pictures of the members, Hyunjin is the main victim. May or may not have taken home a jacket that you said you liked. Minho looked at him, “Uhh isn’t that part of the wardrobe.” He just looked at Minho and said, “Yeah, but I think it would look good on Y/N, the staff said I could have it.” Definitely had his mom call you and make sure you’re doing okay. His mom invites you over to dinner almost every night and shows you baby pictures.

[crowwithagun]

Someone I think about often

When I was a kid, maybe about 6 or 7, my dad and his girlfriend took me and one of her kids to a haunted house. Mind you, this wasn't just a normal "kid friendly" haunted house. This was something closer to a horror movie set. A really gory, scary, clown-filled, zombie-filled, desecrated body-filled horror movie.

I was convinced I'd be okay, and so I begged my dad to let me go in with him since his girlfriend's kid was going in, and she was about my age. I figured I'd be fine, if she was going. I was decidedly not fine. I was freaked out the WHOLE time while in line, the scare actors specifically coming near us and messing with us even though we were kids. (Thinking back on it, the scare actors were a lot friendlier and more playful with me and my friend than they were with the adults. But at the time we were PETRIFIED.)

Finally we make it inside, and I get jumpscared multiple times. I'm freaking out, crying, and my dad is covering my eyes while I walk through the clown section and then the gory/gross dead body section. I take his hand off my face during the dead body section, and don't remember seeing all that much, but remember smelling the most God awful stench (they likely used Liquid ass or something similar, because when I tell you it was NAUSEATING, I mean it.) and trying to put on a brave face.

All this being said, here comes the person I'll never forget. I was clinging to my dad's side as we go through the zombie section, probably trembling and crying still. There's this one scare actor who sees me, petrified, and decides to do something that to this day I think about and smile over. He started singing To The Left by Beyonce. "To the left to the left, everybody goes to the exit to the left" is what he said. It was so ridiculous, and he sang it in this deep, gravelly zombie voice, and it made me laugh. It made me so much less afraid. It made me feel safe.

Fast forward to today, and I now do Scare Acting myself every Halloween. The past two years, I've gone as a clown, and I scare the shit out of kids, teens, and adults alike. But whenever I see a little kid, who's absolutely petrified, I always make sure to be silly. I make sure to be friendly, and not creepy. I give them candy, and I talk to them kindly, even if I'm playing as someone who doesn't talk. I do silly things, like stick out my tongue, and scrunch my nose. I do a silly dance, or I wave sweetly, and talk to their parents so they see I'm not a threat. I always do my best to make them feel safe, just like that man did for me all those years ago. Because I know what it's like to be that scared little kid. And I know how much it helped me all those years ago. So the least I can do, is be kind back.

[rhiannonsknife]

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP WITH GHOST JACKIE GOING “It’s just a cut, don’t be such a baby” HEHDBEBEBEVE– this has got me thinking of mean dom! Jackie 😔

- 🐑

— YELLOWJACKETS S3 SPOILERS (mdni)

this is also for the anon who sent me this ask: ‘would it be weird if i said that i would let jackie spank me with that pride snap bracelet? 😔’….nsfw content, so mdni.

“aw, does that hurt?” comes the low rasp, close enough that her breath skims the shell of your ear while her fingertips soothe over the pulsing red mark on your flesh.

this isn’t jackie.

you know, deep down, that the real jackie never looked at you like this, never tilted her head in a way that suggested she actually enjoyed your suffering. this jackie, the one standing behind you now, is different. she’s smiling like she’s savoring every second of it.

she didn’t demand that you strike your own skin like she did with the others, so the sting turned raw, and blood gushed from a wound caused by the impact. no, she’s holding it now, tapping it idly against her wrist as if debating when to use it.

the other girls are gone. maybe they were never here to begin with, only a part whatever it is that you're seeing. either way, it’s just you and her left now.

jackie runs the edge of it down your spine, and you shudder at the sharp contrast of cool plastic against fevered skin. you’re too hot, the room is too close, and the anticipation coils tight in your stomach as the bracelet glides lower, over your shoulder blades, down the curve of your back. “what’s the matter?” she pouts, voice as soft as it is mocking. “i thought you could handle this…?”

you grip the edge of the desk beneath you, hoping that it’ll make the throbbing between your thighs go away. it’s too telling, too exposing to know you’re absolutely soaked from the slaps against the swell of your ass. “you’re not real,”

jackie hums as she smooths a hand down your spine. it’s solid, nothing like a hallucination should feel. “maybe not. but i’m here, aren’t i?”

the bracelet hits against your skin, sharper this time, and your breath shudders out of you in a high-pitched whimper.

the jackie you knew would never do this. she was sharp-tongued, sure, but never outright cruel. she never wanted to hurt you.

this jackie?

this jackie likes watching you squirm and shift, rubbing your thighs together like that will make the sensations any more bearable. she can see the wet patch against the fabric of your underwear from where she’s standing, evidence enough that she never stopped having this effect on you.

“you always were my favorite,” jackie muses, leaning forward with a hand on your hip. “bet you liked when i was mean to you, didn’t you?”

you shake your head, but there’s no denying it when she trails her fingers higher, pressing them against your cunt through the thin lace.

“liar”

she doesn’t give you time to answer or to process the sensation of her sudden touch. with her free hand, she snaps the bracelet against your thigh, making you jolt against her fingers. your body clenches, so painfully aware of the lack of relief, and jackie chuckles as she traces the mark where the bracelet last struck.

“tell me to stop,” she rasps, challenging.

you don’t.

her hold on you tightens, and she lets the bracelet slap against your skin again, this time just a little harder, a little closer to where you need her touch. any touch, really. your clit throbs as you try to rut against the table’s edge, a futile attempt to find relief. you cry out in something between desperation & pleasure.

“don’t be such a fucking baby,” jackie hisses.

you should be afraid after seeing what she was capable of with it. instead, you arch into her touch.

— a/n: completely unrelated, but do we still think this needs a spoiler warning? i added one just to be safe, but like…the official yj Instagram account has already posted about it, so…😭

[ask-postcrash-curly]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0E4haJHYUJw

sorry can s.omeone please helpme please and quicker this time its worse sorry thankyou justneed it to stop fast please, i am quite afraid its fucking fireworks isnt even thesaem thing that happened to me,and itsnot real why does ithurt that s so pointless im sick of it im nevergoing to be able to be a person again if i have a panic ove r eveyrthing i nwant to go home soon now

pleasmake it turn off fast thank you love you help im scared

supposed to be strong this isso stupid hahaha. ow ow ow ow

cananyone haer me. pleas em ake it turn off cant do this one forso long its makingme panic every time oneofthem goes off haha it doesnt even soundthe same it was muchlouder when iitreally happened

what if the asteroid goes into a star a sun and idont die because im not allowed ever and i ahve to beo nfire forever!! that would be bad i don t want that . oh my god what the fuck am i talking about. maybe i shoudl just scream really loud and then jimmy will come and maybe he'll hit me hard enough to make itstop

no hah okay nope im not goingt o do that . thatss not a good plam at all! then iwould probably cry and he owudl hitme more!! cheers!!!!!!!! hahaha

are any of you there i want it to stop fast please. please can the time delay things not work this time idont want to wait that long .

nooo no it's fine i mean cmon the only reason that it took so long last time's because oft hhe dleays and then all the good videos came at once and it was good theyll . theyre not going to ignore me its okay that will not happen. oh god but i cant wait that long not again pleasecan you break the itme delya this time i dont want to i dont want to do this anymore

i migth start screming by accdint . i dont want to do that i t will make anya upset and jhimmy wuill be angyr and. i dont want him to be angry he might . be agnry. whyis eveyrone angyr with me all thetime i dont try to be frustrating i dont i reallydont . i dont want to be by myself anymore can you please. the rescueline disconnceted and no one can do anything to helpme please acn soemhone help me befroe i make it worse and scream haha oh mygod no i was wrong its the same its the same the sound is different but the way the colors burst across youreyelids when you shut themisthe same and tehn you cant shut them anymore and it hurts it hurts andeverything is white and then its red and youcant even scream youcant move and its just burnign and it takestoo long to pass out why did it take so long i felt evyrting it ev en when iw asnt awake i oculd feel it burnign

and i think i think he left me in there on purpose i think hewanted to make sure i coldnt get better i think he wanted to hurt me i htink he was angyr stilll about the firing an waht i sadi in the cockpit afterhis eval i think maybe thats why he hates me now i didnt i didnt know jimmy i wouldnthave said that if iknew why are you angry i wanted. to help why would you hurther jim she didnt do anytihng to you why would you why would you hurt her why would you hurt me wgy do you keep hurting me. idont ressist anymore so youdont have to push so hard dont have to reach sofar why do you . you want to hurt me yeah? you want to and itsnot because ofanything but you and me. jimmy anya soembdoy cann you make the fireworks go away for me please i will be better

please can aynoe hear me im sc ared im so scared i dont want to beon fire agian it hurt so much and wheni. woke up i couldnt stop screaming . i ocudnt stop im going tos cream aagain and hes going to hit me but nope he wont kill me he wont knock me out because i have to feel it i have to feel veyrthing all the time i cant even sleep!!! that woudl be too peaceful and i dont get to have it peaceful no no no!!!!!!! not allowed for curlly to hvave peaceful i have to be feleing all of it

i onyl had two days i only had two days iwanted to help but i was scared ishouldntmake excuses im sorry nevermind nevermind im sorry anyaimsory shoudnthave been you never you never anybody else i shoudlvedonesomething i shoudlve let us both die whenwe werekids ojgod no no i cantwant him todie hewas. my firned no no no he hurtssherbieng selfish why did i tell them why did i let her tell him why did i let him go in there why did i go in there

i wish it had killed me then it woudlnt stil hurt its been so so so so long forever humanbody isnt supposed to fele this way for so long icant do it anymore iwish they ddint all ahte me s omuch i dindt crash thesip i didnt do it i didnt i neverwouldve done it whyd theybleve you so easilyi am i thiat easy to, did anyoen ever likeme or did they all feel the same as you jimmy is that why. deado pixels everywehr theye all dead pixels and i ahve to bealive its not fair no no haha it is fair this is this is what happens when you dont do anythign now you dont get to!!!!!!cant fix anythuing no matere how muchyou want toooo

cant do anything ever and iut always hurts and shes aways crying andhe doesnt smile anymore and i dont seehim naymore hes drinnkinghismelf to death and none fo them aluagh they used to laugh i miss mmy parents i miss closing my eyes i miss when thinsgs were soft andpeople hugged me evenif it was just pretend and they didnt care i could believe it sometimes and it didnthurt

i wanna go home

i wnana go to sleep

im reallyscared that im going to scream soon not onpurpose

can anybody hear or amitalkingto nothing . can anyeone hear me? icanrt. see anything exceot, the

hah ha am i tlaking too much . i think i am . why would you give this to me. youknow it would hurt me . why does eveyrone liek to hurt me am i that awful or is it that fun . ah hahaha. it jus. it kepe s on going. ahahahaahaha. and anotheranotther anohter another another!!!! is htis because i c omplaiend about the fireare youmad at me because iwouldnt stop saying it overand over wouldnt shut up god it's so annoyign haha right thats it yeah? youask ove and over and nothing chagnes so you have to stop before you get hurt because therse a reaseono they dont listen and if you keep asking againanda again and again forever theyll make you pay.

im soryr ill. be quiet

youdont have to make it go away this time , i can. deal with itthis time until it ends if you dont do it agian. could we make that deal, is that all right can we

amibeing punished

i think i am

or maybe not . only persons get punished im not a perosn im a toy i think . thats it thats all it is anymore and hwen a toy breaks you break it moreandmoreandmore and thneyou throw itawya into the incinerator to burn forever yeah?

everyneos going to go away. whoeven cares right? got thier own lives. own worlds other worlds better worlds. better world where im gone!!! got real friends haha got reaaal families real sons. and the firworks keeo going and eveyrone goes away!!! boom boom boom thats anotehr oen gone. jsut me just me all by mysefl in th empty

oh no no no

no no nonoonnononononono im cryingnow i need to stop no ones in here and if he hears me he might

please imsorry if anyones still there please hlep i acnt stop hes going to hear me pleaseimscared

[horsedylan]

Since we’re on the subject of things being fake. This post?

Yeah. Fanfiction that has been derived from the truth. Its been going around since 2015 so idk who made it..But do not worry. It is I, the humble horsedylan here to offer you Horseumbine information and lead you on the right path so you can meet god!

Whenever one of my lovely and good natured mutuals reblogs this I get itchy. It’s a conflation of two events with some creative liberties. And it certainly didn’t happen a few months before the massacre. If anything we can place the tampon incident in junior year according to Brooks Brown (source: www.westword.com/news/the-missing-motive-5063685)

Incident Statement One.

We can simmer this event down to four sources; Here is one from Sue and Tom's police interview.

"Mr. Klebold said that Dylan was sheltered at his classes at Governor’s Ranch. The Klebold’s perspective in that Dylan seemed well adjusted. Mrs. Klebold then stated the only time she ever saw Dylan cry was once when he came home from school and went to his bedroom. Dylan then took a box of stuffed toys from the closet and buried himself and fell asleep underneath the stuffed toys. Mrs. Klebold said that she checked on what the problem was, however, Dylan would never tell her what had caused him to cry. The Klebolds indicated that they monitored everything about Dylan and Mr. Klebold said that based on his own experience, Dylan seemed normal. Mr. Klebold went on to state that he asked Dylan in the past if people were picking on him and Dylan would tell him no, and would point out that he was 6’4" so people wouldn’t pick on him, however, Dylan did indicate that people picked on Eric" this wasn't in high school!!! and she didn't ignore him!!!

Source: https://zanazl.tripod.com/Columbine/Suspects/DylanKlebold/Interview.html

Incident Statement Two.

This was taken from Andrew Solomon's book Far From the Tree;

"Unbeknownst to the Klebolds, Dylan had experienced significant humiliation at school, though he was six feet four and not easy to push around. He had come home one day with ketchup spots all over his shirt, and when his mother asked what had happened, he said he’d had the worst day of his life and didn’t want to talk about it. Months after his death, she learned of an incident in which Dylan and Eric had apparently been shoved and squirted with ketchup by kids calling them f*gs. “It hurt so much that I’d seen the remnants of that day and hadn’t helped him,” Sue Klebold said." (Page 590)

Dylan explicitly lied or shrugged things off each and every time she tried to help. I'm sorry but simply put, people can't help you if you buck it and obstruct them each and every time they ask you what's up.

Incident Statement Three.

This is also taken from the aforementioned Andrew Solomon book;

"Every year on Dylan’s birthday, Tom goes up to the place where the two used to hike and takes a Dr Pepper, because Dylan loved Dr. Pepper, and the stuffed koala that was Dylan’s childhood favorite" (Page 594)

Incident Four.

When he was in middle school, he had gone up to his room after a bad day. She went in to bring him some chocolate milk and he had been crying. She asked again, what happened. All he was willing to tell her was that some kids were mean to him.

Like people will complain about how some people take this shit too seriously ( and to an extent I get where you're coming from for sure.) and complain about the seriousness of infoposters but then go on to simultaneously complaining about Dave Cullen and the smear job he did on E. Like you acknowledge that if you aren’t careful you spread misinformation so..idk. Okay yeah its a tumblr post and not a book fair point but then why bother having info posts at all lol. Its one thing to make a mistake thats fine, I make mistakes with my infoposts ALLLL the time. and thats okay but spreading fanfiction and calling it fact is another matter.

I think one of the reasons why this annoyed me so much is that people have such a ridiculous hate boner for Sue that they just lie about her ignoring her son to make her look bad. Its cringe. She didn’t, she asked him so many times and Dylan lied to her constantly. Like I legitimately saw some of you fuckers going off about how you can’t wait for this VICTIM (and yes. She is a victim) to die explicitly because of this post. I’m gonna be doing a post about her in the coming weeks probably (I mean half of it is already written up) because holy moly.

I'm also gonna save this in a google doc or on obsidian just in case lol.

Edit: updated with page numbers.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

That bit where “you can’t possibly be (fill in the thing here) because you’re so smart!” thing has made me want to fist fight adults my whole life.

They usually meant it as a compliment but it always made me see red. I still see red when I hear someone say something similar about a kid now.

I’m dyslexic and was diagnosed as such in 2nd grade. I’m also convinced I’m autistic and ADHD but haven’t bothered to get a diagnosis as an adult.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TEACHERS WERE LIKE “I never would have guessed you were dyslexic!”? BITCH, YOU’VE HAD MY IEP SINCE BEFORE THE SCHOOL YEAR STARTED! DID YOU NOT READ IT?!

No. They didn’t. Not till I said something to force them to do their jobs.

The worst example was 7th grade French.

I’d been quiet about the fact that my French teacher was marking down my tests because my spelling wasn’t correct. My IEP specifically said “if it isn’t a spelling test, you can ask this kid to go back and fix it after the test, but spelling cannot count against their grade.” Anyway, I was used to it taking a few weeks before a teacher got around to reading my IEP because it was usually at the bottom of a large stack of them due to my last name being at the end of the alphabet. And one or two C’s at the beginning of the year wasn’t anything I couldn’t come back from.

Well… it never got corrected. He didn’t stop docking points for spelling.

After what I deemed was plenty of time to get his shit together, I confronted him about it.

Now, I’ll tell you, I was in an advanced French class that was designed to give gifted middle school kids a head start on their high school foreign language. We had to be recommended by name by the 5th/6th grade foreign language teacher to qualify for this class.

So I told him “you can’t lower my grade for spelling” and he said something along the lines of “that’s part of the point. It’s French.” And I was like “no, really. You can’t do this to me. I’m dyslexic.”

And guys. This grown ass man looked at a 13 year old kid and with his full chest said “I wasn’t supposed to have any of you in this class.”

Any of you.

It’s a good thing I was already mad or that would have made me cry.

I’d been othered plenty in my life up till then for being weird, clearly a baby queer, having a mom that called teachers out for not using standard English, being dyslexic, etc. This was just the first time that a teacher had been that blatant about it to my face. No attempt of being politically correct or gentle or anything. No, “I never would have guessed!” as a way to try and make it a compliment.

Just flat out “you are not supposed to be here. You are not good enough or smart enough to be here. You existing has made my life harder when you weren’t allowed to do so.”

I marched out of his class and went straight to the Special Ed teacher who’s “class” (it was really a study hall for kids who had a learning disability of some variety and needed the extra help or was at least entitled to it by the state) I had right after French. I would usually use that time to finish my homework so I wouldn’t have to do it at home. Sometimes my homework was already done so I’d help the other kids. The teacher would check in with me to make sure I didn’t need any help, but I never did.

Well, now I needed help.

She could tell I was mad because I’m not subtle and, ya know, the previous class hadn’t ended yet. She asked what was wrong and I didn’t mince words. She told me to stay put and then she marched out of the room.

I wish I’d followed her. I can only imagine the new asshole she ripped him.

Sure enough, statring the next day, every little bit of my IEP was being followed to the letter in French class. From my spelling not counting to the jerk using a microphone for my hearing and sticking me in the back of the class with the speaker instead of just turning one desk 90° and letting me sit there.

I fought for the desk instead of the microphone but he was following the IEP so I didn’t win that one. Besides, now that my needs were being met, I was getting some of the best grades in the class, and therefore belonged in the back “privileged smart kids” seats that he’d put me in.

(Yes, the man segregated his rows by your class grade. We all knew who was doing well and who wasn’t by where he sat you.)

On the bright side, I met a good friend by sitting in the back.

He wasn’t an employee at the school when I returned for 8th grade.

Anyway.

Gifted kids just get neglected because the school feels they can get away with it. They don’t react well when theres a gifted kid with an IEP and knows not to let them get away with it.

They treat those kids like shit. They tell those kids they are special and the future but also that they are a burden and shouldn’t be with the actually smart and special children.

These kids bounce back and forth between class rooms full of other neglected gifted kids and class rooms full of other neglected special needs kids. In the former they are treated like the dead weight and in the latter they are treated like the teacher’s assistant so the teacher doesn’t have to help the one kid who needs the most help in the class, because “they’ll get that kid through this group project. It’s fine.”

These children and bored to tears in one scenario and ripping their hair out from frustration in the other.

Not smart enough and too smart all at once. Out smarting the adults around you but somehow never doing well enough to get all A’s.

Constantly battling the teachers, good and bad over your needs.

Watching your friends fall through the cracks because they weren’t lucky enough to have a parent who worked in this system and taught them how to fight it. Watching some of them deem themselves stupid when they AREN’T but everything is telling them they are and they’ve stopped trying and other friends never learn the basic skills like note taking because they read in class and still get good grades.

Neither one of these friends knowing the point of school is to learn and not to pass tests because the school is telling them it’s all about grades and tests and so you watch all of your friends lack the actual knowledge they’re supposed to be gaining.

“You’re supposed to give me the multiple choice questions.” “You asked me to help you study. If you can’t answer the question without the multiple choice, you don’t know the answer.” Non of the other gifted kids at the table seeing my point and the other kids in our friend group saying “this is why I don’t bother.”

Our school system is so fucked.

That is all.

people misunderstand what ‘gifted kid’ actually means but it’s ok it’s fine it’s cool it’s good

[pineconepie]

NCould you write a short sequel if a reader who has recently been turned into a vampire tries to escape from Octavian?

TW: Blood-drinking (vampires), escape attempt, forced age regression/infantilization, injuries, restraints (mittens), platonic/parental yandere

...

Ever since you've been turned, Octavian treats you even more like a child.

Well, his baby, to be exact.

It's annoying, because it does seem like you're going through childhood again, because of your recent changes. Your canines fell out and began coming back in as pointed fangs, plus your nails grew much faster, sharper, and stronger than before.

And it hurt.

Constant headaches and random crying fits from growing pains made you needy. Octavian was always more than willing to pick you up, shushing you gently and rocking you as if you were a baby having a tantrum.

Even now, he cradles you on his hip in the middle of dinner.

Octavian keeps taking breaks to cut up your meat, wiping at your mouth, and occasionally spoon-feeding you despite the fact you insisted you can handle eating yourself.

The amount of doting attention he gives you is overwhelming, and you're only more irritated with the throbbing pain coursing through you.

Noticing your discomfort, he puts down the silverware and wipes away tears with a tender touch.

"Don't cry, my sweet," he coos. "Papa knows. Teething is hard. It'll be over soon." Octavian kisses your forehead before lifting you fully onto his lap, placing you sideways on top of him.

One gloved hand smooths back strands of sweaty hair as you bury your face into his crisp white dress shirt.

Not because you want to, but because you need the comfort. Even though your pride wants you to fight back, the rest of your mind needs this too much to care.

Gnawing lightly on his cravat, you sigh contentedly when he continues threading his fingers through your scalp in slow circles.

"Now, say, 'ahhhh.'" He holds a bloody piece of meat to your lips with a fork.

"I'm not eating that," you tell him. Frankly, you can't eat with the pain, even if you wanted to. The idea of swallowing anything right now makes you feel like hurling.

Octavian frowns. "Don't be fussy." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek. "You have to finish all of your food. I know you're going through a lot of pain, but it'll be so much worse if you don't eat. Would you like a tummy ache on top of the growing pains?"

For a moment, you plan to blindly agree, but then you realize something. He won't hurt you. He sees you as a child. Children sometimes refuse to listen.

What's going to happen if you deny his demand?

"No," you assert. "It hurts too much."

Octavian goes silent. His face falls before contorting into a mask of barely-restrained frustration.

He closes his eyes and exhales heavily through his nose. "(Y/n)..." He sets the fork down again and grips your shoulders with both hands. Opening them, he levels you with a stern glare. "You are going to eat your dinner, and you aren't getting up until every bite is finished. I will wait here all night if need be. Do you understand?"

"Fine! Then we'll be waiting here forever!" you snap.

He stares at you intensely, seeming more upset than angry. "Fine. You know what? Then go upstairs, and when you're ready to stop acting out, come find me."

You huff and storm upstairs, slamming the door to his bedroom behind you.

It's been long enough that Octavian has your room decorated more... childishly. It still has the same Victorian-vibe about it, but there's toys scattered around the place, and a shelf full of storybooks that he's read to you hundreds of times during your stay so far.

He also got you plenty of new stuffed animals, filling up an entire wicker basket to the brim with them.

There's a mirror in the bathroom, and you briefly glance at it while passing by. Since turning into a vampire, you stopped having a reflection. Now looking at your image just shows the furniture behind where you stand.

You can't take this anymore. For so long, you've been putting off escaping, but no longer.

The window is locked and barred shut, but with your new strength, you should be able to pry them open without needing a key, especially with your newfound strength from turning.

There's some resistance as you first start yanking apart the iron rods.

With a grunt, you pull as hard as possible, gritting your teeth and snarling as they finally bend and pop from the wall, breaking the hinges on each side until falling backward. Panting from the excursion, you drop the pieces to the ground before pushing the window open.

It's sunny out, but you don't think twice about burning when stepping out the window, now on the rooftop.

From what you can see, you're on the second or third floor.

If you climb to the ground below, you should be free to escape.

There's a trellis next to the ledge of the building, thankfully. The vines wrapped around it don't provide much stability as you hold onto them, so you mostly rely on the wooden slats to make your way to the ground safely.

Once your feet hit soft grass, you book it to the forest, running faster than ever - quite literally, perhaps being a vampire has its strengths.

For a moment, you hesitate.

Where would you even go, now that you're a vampire? You were already considered odd before, but now? Even more so than ever. Now the people who called you a monster were technically correct, even if not at the time.

No. There's no going back now, not even as the sun feels like its sizzling your skin. You'd rather take your chances alone in this forest than spend one more second living with that man and his insanity.

...

"Sweetling, may I come in?" Octavian knocks gently.

No response.

"I understand you're frustrated with me, and I'm sorry." He speaks louder this time, just in case your voice can't be heard through the wood separating you both. "I know you're going through a lot of pain and discomfort lately, and I know that's why you've been moody. I'm not angry with you."

Still, no response.

He sighs. "I'm coming in." Turning the knob, Octavian pushes open the door and scans the room for you. At first he thinks maybe you're hiding somewhere. "My love, please come out. Papa said he isn't angry."

Something doesn't feel right.

That's when he notices the broken lock on the window, bent into an odd shape and laying on the floor uselessly. The bars previously bolted across are torn off their hinges and thrown aside. The glass panes are wide open.

Horror and dread instantly fill him to the brim.

You ran away.

"No!" Octavian sprints outside and scales the side of the building before gracefully jumping down onto the soil below.

Inhuman speed allows him to race across the grounds until reaching the end of the property, stopping once he reaches the iron fence encasing the area.

Beyond it, he can see faint imprints in the earth - footprints.

There's only one way you could've gone: the forest.

...

You can't believe you voluntarily put yourself in the same spot you were before meeting Octavian. Cautiously trekking through the thicket, you hold your arms in front of your face to block any branches that get in the way.

The wind howls eerily around you, echoing in your ears as you try not to trip over any rocks or roots in your path.

Just earlier that day you thought you couldn't be in any more pain or discomfort than you were. But now? Your insides feel like they're on fire. The heat radiating off your skin is unbearable.

If it weren't for adrenaline pumping through your veins, you'd collapse already.

How did you survive this when you were human? The sun was harsh, but nothing like this. You'd do anything for winter to return.

You can't take this any longer, and almost collapse into a nearby bush, its thorns biting into your skin, but you no longer care. Taking in shaky breaths, you curl up, shivering despite the burns scorching every inch of your body.

Whimpers tear out of your raw throat, your body begging to just give out already.

Something moves to your left.

The noise startles you out of your misery, causing you to freeze immediately upon hearing it.

Rustling from the foliage. Crashing from leaves being crushed underfoot. Hushed breathing.

Then suddenly—

"(Y/N)! OH GOD–"

Arms snake around your waist and hoist you upwards into someone's arms. Octavian clutches you tightly against himself, his coldness being such a drastic relief to the flames searing your flesh.

"No," you weakly protest, too tired to fight him off.

You can feel his tears soaking into the top of your head. "What were you thinking?!" he cries. "This could've killed you!" Looking down, you see blisters forming along your exposed skin. With those sharp nails, Octavian quickly slashes his wrist, bringing it up to your lips. "Drink. Now."

If you didn't feel like death, you'd refuse, but your instincts kick in, driving you to latch onto the dripping wound and guzzle down his blood.

You feel less horrible physically, even if none of your injuries go away. He winces in pain, but looks more worried for you.

Octavian adjusts your weight in his grip and rushes back the way he came, faster than the human eye could process. You cling onto him and bury your face into the fabric of his clothing.

It feels good not having to deal with direct exposure to the light anymore.

In record time, he brings you inside, closing the door behind himself and hurrying upstairs.

The moment Octavian enters the master bath, he undresses you and puts you in the bathtub. You watch him frantically grab washcloths and bandages from the medicine cabinet.

His long brown hair frames his face, loose strands flying wildly thanks to him dashing through the wilderness earlier.

He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and gets to work cleaning your wounds with shaking hands.

"Why didn't you get hurt from the sun?" you quietly blurt.

Octavian sighs. "It affects all vampires differently. Some don't burn from it. Some only get moderately sun burnt, like me. And you..." His eyes narrow. "It could've killed you! Do you understand how dangerous this was? What if you were taken away from me?! I'd die!"

You avoid his gaze.

Octavian doesn't respond, simply continuing to wipe away bits of dried blood and dirt. After several minutes of silence, he finishes his work, wrapping your wounds, dressing you in pajamas and setting you down in bed.

As he tucks you in, you can see how absolutely heartbroken he seems. You wish you didn't feel guilty. You wish you hated him.

"I'm sorry," you grumble.

"I forgive you, but never do that again." He pulls something out of your wardrobe before sitting down on the edge of the mattress beside you. "Hold out your hands."

You hesitate, but obey.

Octavian gingerly loops the ribbons attached to mittens around your wrists, tying them securely shut so you won't be able to use your hands properly. The thick wool protects your fingers from being used, making it harder to pick things up and grip objects.

"These are staying on until I can fix that window and trust you again," he tells you matter-of-factly.

"Octavian..."

"You know that isn't how you address me, sweetheart."

"Papa," you murmur. Tears sting at the corner of your vision. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The bed creaks as he moves around to sit by your side.

He pulls you close, resting his chin atop your head. "I lost too much the first time. I refuse to let it happen again. Do you know how terrified I was at the idea of losing you?" A pause. "Never again. You're staying here with me. Safe. Always."

His hand takes hold of your palm within its mitten, squeezing affectionately.

"Now get some sleep, my precious. I'm not going anywhere."