#but i won’t get a decision for another one to three months

[takeawaythepain]

thank you all so much for your sweet messages about my disability hearing today! i read them again as i was waiting in the office and they gave me such a needed boost of love and support. i can’t tell you all how grateful i am <3

[cherienymphe]

White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

[whaddayadothatfor]

Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Santa Baby

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Not wanting them to feel left out, you show some kindness to a coworker, only to be repaid with a most unexpected act of generosity.

Character: Jake Jensen

Day Six of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - extreme weather leads to forced proximity  

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Another message pops up on the Teams chat, then a reaction. As chair of the social committee, you swiftly open the conversation to review the interaction. The secret santa is a success. So far. 

You check another name off your list. You want to make sure that all the exchanges are made. You even arranged to deliver gifts on behalf of those with the day booked off. It’s all going smoothly and you’re a few hours away from declaring another office holiday season a success. 

Then you have to worry about the other holiday. The one for your family. Your kids are sorted but the gifts need to be wrapped. And your husband, he’s the nosiest of all. You’ll need to make sure he isn’t sniffing around your bag again. 

The presents are just one thing. Your time off won’t be that. You have to drive three hours north to see your family. You still don’t think your sister, Shayna, forgives you for that little argument at Thanksgiving. And if your brother, Jamar, even shows up, that might be worse than the alternative. 

Your workday triumph is one thing you can be proud of before your home life implodes. 

You run the clock out, your list filling with tick marks. As you reach the one-hour countdown, there’s one name left. Jensen. Strange. He’s handed off his own gift but hasn’t yet received anything. Maybe he just didn’t post in the chat. He does get distracted easily. 

As another minute runs off, you jump into action. You head down to accounting to ask Alan about it. He’s swiveling casually in his chair as you approach, nonchalant as she stares at his monitor dully. You say his name to get his attention. 

“Hey, just checking in. Going around and making sure everything’s been sorted for the swap. You gave Jensen his present right?” 

Alan scoffs and chews the end of a ballpoint, “nah.” 

“No?” You frown, “okay, well can you do it by the end of the day--” 

“Nope,” he snorts. “Didn’t get one.” 

“What?” You have to measure your voice.  

“Didn’t feel like it. Guy’s a dweeb.” 

“Regardless of your personal feelings, this was voluntary and you signed up,” you chide. 

“Mm, kinda too late, isn’t it?” He shrugs and turns back to his screen. “I got a wife who’ll tear my throat out if she doesn’t get a month’s pay in gifts so that goggly-eyed nerd is the least of my worries.” 

You sigh. There’s always one bad egg. It’s like when you ask your kids to just not fight for one day. It never happens yet you still keep trying. 

“Happy holiday, Alan,” you snipe and stomp away. 

You should have expected one thing to go wrong. It always has to and you’re always the one cleaning it up. Why would anyone call this the happiest time of the year? It’s the most stressful and the only thing you ever get are a few new grey hairs.  

Well, Kathleen did get you that fancy three-wick candle you plan to put in your bathroom, though you’re not sure how much relaxation you can get when your kids can’t leave you to soak for more than five minutes without interruption. You remind yourself to stop looking for the problems. You’re the problem-solver, not the problem-dweller. 

You can figure this out. You go to your desk and grab your purse and nothing else. You hurry out, ignoring several utterances in your direction. If people need you now, well, they should’ve thought of that earlier. It might not be important to them or to your job, but you’d hate to be the only person left out. You have been before. It’s why you’re such a people pleaser. 

There’s a hobby shop not far from the office building. You went there for your son’s gift. He’s a big fan of anime. You enter and greet the cashier with an apologetic smile. They are also gearing up for the end of the day. 

“Promise, I’ll be quick,” you assure him. 

He just shrugs, “no problem, lady.” 

You stop and take a breath, gathering your wits into order. Your racing thoughts, your hammering adrenaline, it’s like a platoon of disordered soldiers scattering inside of you. You call them into formation and turn down the center aisle. 

You glance over the products on the shelf. Jensen always had that Tetris keychain dangling from his lanyard when he came to troubleshoot. It’s the only video game you ever played, though your daughter let you run around her Animal Crossing island once. She banned you after you offended her favourite cat character. 

You bend to the lower shelf, hips straining with the effort, and you claim the box with the red clearance tag, marked right under the spending cap. The mini arcade machine proclaims 30+ games to play, including classics like Pong, Pac-man, his bow wearing counterpart, and Tetris! 

You take it to the counter and ask if they do gift wrap. Sorry, no. That’s okay. You pay and mourn the bottle of wine you’ll have to forego to accommodate the extra expense. 

You hurry back down the street, without a jacket to protect you from the biting chill or drifting flakes. The snow dampens your face and clothes, catching and melting in your hair as you clack in your heels frantically. 

Fifteen minutes left in the day. You rush into the lobby and tap the elevator button impatiently. Screw it. 

You tuck the box under one arm and go to the stairs. You take off your heels and clamour up in your stockinged feet. You’re breathless as you get to the top. You push through the heavy metal door and stomp forward, shoes dangling from your fingers. 

You ignore the looks sent in your direction. You stop briefly to scratch off the price tag and attempt to compose yourself. You proceed down to IT and approach Jensen as he bites his thumb, his other hand hovering over his keyboard. 

His rectangular glasses reflect his screen and his blond hair is spiked only one side as it appears the other has been flattened by anxious palming. You keep from slamming down the box and instead stop beside him. “Excuse me, Jensen.” 

“Huh, uh, oh,” he turns his chair and looks up at you. He smooths his Luigi-themed tie as he plants his feet wide. “Oh, hi. Is your PC overheating again--” 

“Merry Christmas,” you shove the box towards him, “special delivery.” 

He hesitates and pushes his glasses down the bridge of his nose. He blinks as he examines the box. He lowers his hand to his chest and pinches the button of his shirt. 

“For me?” 

“So sorry, I was running around all day,” you explain. “I meant to get it to your earlier--” 

“Really?” He looks at your shoulder and you glance over at the melting snow. 

“It was in my car,” you lie swiftly. “I’m sorry, really.” 

“No, it’s...” he reaches to take the box, his hands brushing your cold fingers. “Oh gosh, you’re freezing.” 

“I’m fine,” you assure him as you retract your hold on the box. He gives you a lingering look before he leans back. 

“Huh, this is...” he lowers it to his lap and examines the box. “Really cool. Thanks.” He chuckles tensely, “I almost thought Santa forgot me.” 

“Again, I’m sorry,” you say. 

“I’m not mad,” he assures you as he turns the box in his hands. “Really. I had to set an alarm to make sure I brought in mine, then another to give it to Terry.” 

“That’s a good idea. If we do this again, I’ll have to try that,” you smile. “Well, I hope you enjoy.” 

“Totally,” he agrees. “It’ll keep me busy on the time off.” 

Wish I had that problem, you think to yourself. “That’s great,” you chime. “Anywho, I don’t wanna keep you since the day’s almost done. I gotta get my desk tidied before I head out.” 

“Sure,” he gives a slanted grin, “this is so cool, thank you.” He grips the corners of the box, “I always knew you were the coolest.” 

You go back to the desk but the person waiting for you is a bad omen for your holiday. You hide your disappointment as Lee waits, leaning on the corner with arms crossed. You stop behind your chair. 

“Hello, Mr. Bodecker--” 

“Let’s not beat around the bush,” he intones. 

“Right, what’s going on?” 

“That new one, the pretty thing, she miscalculated the Dorsey account.” 

You deflate. Of course she did. That one hasn’t done a single thing right since she started. 

“I’d ask her to redo it but I already did. Three times. Needs to be done for year end or accounting will have my ass in two,” he says without censor. 

“And you want me to do it?” You utter. 

“See, you always know exactly what needs to be done,” he clucks and stands straight, “double-overtime. It’ll be on your January pay.” 

“Right,” you swallow. There’s not denial to be given. Your performance review is also in January and you need the bonus after factoring in the family road trip. “I’ll get it done.” 

“Good woman,” he winks. “Put the hours into the system.” 

“Sure, happy holidays, sir.” 

“Ha,” he snorts, “if my ex-wife has anything to say about it, they won’t be.” 

You roll you chair under you and drop your purse between your feet. You send a quick text to your husband. The kids are being dropped off by Hannah anyway. He just needs to be home. Even he can figure out how to reheat the chili you froze last month. 

After you get your instructions sent, you turn your attention to your computer. You still have to finish up all your other wrap-up before you get to Dorsey. As you put your nose to the grind, Mary wishes you a happy break on her way out. She's followed by a speckled succession of eager coworkers, ready to begin their time off. 

Your eyes haze as the glare of your screen feels brighter with each passing second. You have a prescription but never a change to fill it. You don’t imagine the neglect is making your vision any better. 

The office grows desolate as you continue plucking away. As the snow falls on the other side of the windows, they dampen out the noise of the city. You’re isolated in your focus. The files for Dorsey are a complete mess. You're not sure how anyone could fail to balance a spreadsheet. There are very easy formulas to do the work for you. 

Mulling over mistakes won’t fix them. Your fingers flutter over the keys as you painstakingly restart the entire workbook from scratch. You’re disappointed, not that you’re stuck in the contradictingly uncomfortable ergonomic chair, but that you won’t get to see your kids or husband for more than an hour or two if that. 

You close your eyes as the gridlines burn into them. You lean back and rub your brows. There’s tension sewn into your brows. It’s grim how getting older really dims the sparkle of this time of year. Everyone else gets to be happy and you’re just the courier of that happiness. Maybe that should make you happy, that you can be that for them. 

No, it’s just exhausting. 

Before you can open your eyes or sit forward, you let out a yelp at the sudden warmth on your shoulders. You twitch and look up at Jensen as he stands behind your chair. Your heart quickly calms. 

“Oh, what are you still doing here?” You ask, a tremor of fright in your voice. 

“Back-end work,” he answers as he squeezes your shoulders. His touch is unexpected. You wiggle but he doesn’t let you go. “What about you?” 

“Just some last-minute quality control,” you answer. “You really snuck up on me.” 

“Ha, yeah,” he slowly drags his hands away, his fingers caressing your neck lightly. “Sorry, I... I didn’t know anyone else was here.” 

“Yeah, it’s quiet,” you agree. 

He leans on the back of your chair as his proximity clouds you. It’s a bit awkward. You just want to get your work done but can’t bring yourself to tell him to go away. Especially knowing what you know. He doesn’t deserve any of that just because he can be a bit different. 

“What about your family?” He asks. 

You wince and turn the chair to face him. You shrug, “I’ll be a bit late but they’ll survive without me.” 

“Sure, sure. You must be excited to spend time with them,” he lets go of your chair and backs up a single step as you look at him. 

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to see them a bit more,” you agree. “What about you? You doing anything for the holidays?” 

He shakes his head as his lips thin, “no. Don’t really got anyone.” 

“Ah, well, it’s always a good time to catch up hobbies,” you offer. 

He nods and his throat bobs. He shoves his hands into his pockets. He looks sad in that moment. He’s still pretty young, you want to tell him to enjoy singlehood while he can. Yet you remember being in your late twenties and how those comments just made you feel worse. All the same, that feels so long ago. 

“I know what you did,” he says. 

“Pardon?” You sputter in confusion. 

“I know Alan got me. I overheard him when we got our names.” 

“Oh,” you’re speechless but for that single syllable. 

“It’s alright. I know people don’t always get me but... you know, you didn’t have to do all that just for me,” he shifts sheepishly on his feet, his cheeks tinging as he looks at the floor. 

“Well, it isn’t fair, is it?” You say. 

“Yeah, but...” He looks up shyly from behind his glasses, “you must be a good mom. And a good wife.” 

You’re not sure how to reply, “thank you? I try.” 

“Your kids and husband are very lucky,” he smirks. 

“Sure, I’m not sure they think so,” you say. “Waiting around for me to come home...” 

You go to turn back to your desk, but he’s quicker than you. He startles you as he grabs the arm of your chair and keeps you facing him. You press yourself against in as he bends over you. 

“Doesn’t sound like they appreciate you,” he says. 

“Jensen,” you murmur, “that’s... no, they’re my family. They do.” You spread your fingers over your thighs nervously. “Can you back up?” 

You cry out as he answers the question by pushing your chair back against the desk. The impact jars you as he leans in, closer and closer. You flatten yourself to the thin cushion and he plants a kiss on your forehead. 

“I appreciate you,” he whispers, his nose tickling your hairline.  

“Jensen, please, that’s not--” 

“Shhhh,” he hushes you as he drops to his knees before you. “I disabled the cameras...” 

“Jensen, what?” You squirm and grab the armrests. You try to push yourself to your feet and he slaps his hand against your stomach, shoving you back down. “Get off--” 

“They don’t treat you right. No one does.”  

"Jensen, that's sweet of you to say but please--" 

"Let me be sweet to you," he begs as he clings to your knees, thumbs sliding under the hem of your skirt.  

You grab the fabric as he tries to slide it up. You put your other hand on his chest as you sit forward. "No, okay, I know the holidays are hard but--"  

"I just wanna give you a gift. Since you gave me one," he purrs.  

"It's-- no, okay," you grab his wrist and your other hand slips up to shove his shoulder. "I'm married." He bends his head to brush his chin against your knuckles, like a cat eager for pets. The gesture fills you with pity, but cannot undercut your revulsion. "I said--" You push him again and he twists his arm free of your grasp.  

He grabs your wrists and lifts your hands. He squeezes and you feel his strength; even if he wasn't younger, you'd be just as helpless. He pulls your arms and puts your hands against his head. You feel the soft short bristle and shudder. He covers your hands with his and holds them snug.  

"Don't let go," he commands. His voice deepens, a razor's edge in his words. You stare at him dumbly. You don't dare disobey. It's as if your body is not your own as it refuses to respond to your fear. That inner plea is smothered by the pounding of your heart.  

He lets you go cautiously and drops his hands to your thighs. You flinch and let out a squeak. He glides down the pushes his hands under the fabric, hooking it with his thumbs as he forces it higher. You shiver at the sensation of his palms against your stockings.  

As he grazes along the naked skin above, you whimper. He hooks his hands around your hips and runs them under you, lifting you slightly to rumple your skirt below your waist. You shake as your hands remain glued to his head. 

You watch yourself from above as the scene plays out. The dimples in your thighs quake as horror floods your body. He slowly bends to press the tip of his nose against the front of your panties. He prods you through the fabric and hums. He swirls around, teasing you through the tenuous layer. 

Your hands fall away but he doesn’t notice. He’s too fixated on his prize. He tilts your hips, pulling you down in the chair as he moves your legs around him. Your lip trembles and your teeth grit, eyes hot in disbelief and disgust. How is this happening? 

He brings your knees over his shoulders then runs a finger up the back of your plain white cotton panties. The type that hardly get your husband in such a furor. He traces the edge and tugs it aside. 

You cry out as his tongue flicks along your folds. It feels like the first time all over again. You’re not neglected, just overworked and overtired. You don’t have the energy or the time. It doesn’t mean you’re lonely. Just busy. 

He pushes his face deep and laps you up, spreading his tongue as he tastes you with a growl. You clench the armrest, your other hand catching the top of his head as you try to urge him away. You croak and your cries crackle in the air. 

“Jensen,” you squeal. 

He pokes his tongue along your entrance and drags it up to your clit, then back down again. The tendrils crawl down your thighs as he reaches blindly for your hand. He moves it behind his head and presses it there. As he does, he nuzzles into you. 

He wiggles his head as he drinks you up. Your legs tense and your fingernails dig into his scalp between the short stubble of his hair. His glasses are crushed against your pelvis, forgotten as he devours you. You whine and close your eyes but you can still see yourself, like you’re watching a movie in your head. 

You see yourself giving in, melting into him, clinging to him as the coil winds tighter and tighter. As your orgasm builds, you feel yourself splitting into two. There is the body curled up in the chair, wrapped around his head, and the consciousness watching from outside.  

And it all evaporates into pleasure. Into forgotten wrongs and broken morals. Reality gives way to escape as you give into the stolen delight erupting from head to toe, as you give in to this man on his knees before you, begging you with the flick of his tongue. 

[adoptourcrew]

Here is a transcript of Rhys talking about OFMD cancellation. You can listen to his full interview on Spotify and on Apple Podcasts.

Talking Strange Paranormal Show with Aaron Sagers: Rhys Darby Returns!

Timestamp: 37:52-41:49

Aaron: I can’t help but ask about Our Flag Means Death…I absolutely love the show. It has such a huge fan base. It even has the massive queer community support and we are now in the midst of Pride Month. For you, how do you view the legacy of Our Flag Means Death professionally. How does it rank in your work?

Rhys: Very highly. It’s an odd one, because in my mind, and I’m sure all the fans' minds, it was slightly rudely cut short. We should have gone more and I think it’s because we felt like the aim was to go for three seasons, to tell the whole story. And because it was so good and it had a lot of fans and it was representational, it was funny, it was beautifully shot, awesome costumes. We’re pirates on a boat attacking each other and making out. It was a unique show and I’m still getting over the idea that they can just go “we’re canceling that” when other things, I won’t name any names of certain other comedy shows and things, that just keep running. And I think, who the hell is making these decisions and there might be a financial element to it, yeah sure. But the budget was stripped by 40% on the second season and we shot it in New Zealand, we saved a lot of money by going to another country, which seems odd. But still, then they called it quits there at the end of number two. So it’s bittersweet in a lot of ways for me because personally, for my own journey, it was the best thing I’ve ever done because I was the lead and I got to obviously use my comedic skills, that’s easy. But I got into the drama side of things and there was some real emotional pathos and nuances that I didn’t know I was capable of doing and I got to do, and I was really proud of my work on that thing. It’s like my mum always said, “pride always comes before a fall.” (laughs) And now it’s gone. But hey! Move on, we’ll move on.

Aaron: Would you and Taika ever consider, as some other creators have, perhaps completing the story in another format, another medium, comic books for instance. A way that you could tell the story that you wanted to.

Rhys: I think the fans have already done that. The fanfiction is through the roof. But I think the show that we made was something to behold and hopefully it will stick around. It’s just two seasons, there are a lot of shows that ran for two seasons, like Flight of the Conchords, for example, there are only two seasons of that. And I look at these things now as pieces of art and there they are. And you can watch them over a long weekend or whatever you want. But it’s finite and it’s done and you can enjoy it and you can always go back to it. It’s a happy place. It’s art and that’s it.

[venusgirltarot]

What Would A Relationship Between You and Your Celebrity Crush Be Like? ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here!

Deck Used: The Cosmic Slumber Tarot

Pile 1 ༣

Cards: seven of swords, death, seven of pentacles, temperance, three of torches, the chariot, two of swords, eight of pentacles

So I won’t lie, pile one, I think being in a relationship with your celebrity crush could become a very dark and difficult period of your life. This period of time would be temporary but still very difficult nonetheless.

The relationship would start out private, a secret kept between the two of you and only known to those closest to you. You’re very protective of it as a couple and want to spend the first few months of your relationship together without the general public knowing about it or being involved. The connection you would have would be incredibly strong and very very deep. You connect very deeply with this person and you have a very loving and healthy relationship. The type of relationship where you’re like best friends but also make a really good couple.

The struggles you face will start when this relationship is announced to the public. I don’t think it would be leaked or announced before you’re ready, the two of you decide together that it’s time and you meet with your respective teams and come up with a statement and plan to have an article released.

In this scenario where you are with your celebrity crush, I see you being somewhat famous yourself. I think your crush is either an A-List and well known celebrity or someone with a a very large and dedicated fan base or possibly both but no matter what, they do have a much bigger fan base/platform than you do. You may just be starting out in the industry and making a name for yourself and you do have a fan base but it’s much smaller. Your celebrity crush’s fans may be known for being obsessive or slightly out of control and this is something the two of you have in mind when announcing this relationship.

Despite being prepared, I don’t think either of you will be fully prepared for the true outcome of this announcement. There would be a lot of unnecessary hate and possibly even hate towards your friends/family. People trying to dig into your past, blind items about you from people claiming to have grown up with you or known you at some point in your life saying things about you that you know aren’t true but your crush’s fan base takes these blind items and uses them as a reason to hate you due to their own jealousy. I heard “it really spirals out of control”.

You won’t say anything. I think you’d take this time to focus on yourself and surround yourself with people that love and care about you and truly know you for who you are and not for some blind item from an unknown internet user that has never met you before. You crush would really care for you during this time. They’d be very attentive and take time to communicate and support you emotionally. I heard “we’ll get through it together” they refuse to let you isolate yourself or go through this alone, the two of you may attend therapy together to process and work through this difficult time together. You may also buy a home in one of your home towns or some place that’s comfortable and familiar to you.

You choose not to speak out because you feel it’s not what’s best and you know it would add fuel to an already uncontrollable fire. You encourage your crush to do the same but eventually I do believe they’ll make a statement. Fans may possibly be using your crush’s lack of defense of you as another reason to hate on you and the general public may see it as your crush being a bad partner and it may put them in a bad light in the eyes of the general public. I think a lot of the general public will see this as a rabid fan base going after a celebrity’s partner without any reason but a small portion may only know you from blind items or fan rumors they hear which may but you in a bad light in their eyes. However, you crush’s statement will be a well written and planned out statement that will bring in way more support for you from the general public, but I don’t think it will do much in terms of the fan base and their opinion.

I do think this will change, though. Over time, after ignoring and not commenting on this hate and continuing to build and further your career, I think a lot of fans will start to like you and the general public will really love you. After time has passed, I think you’ll come out with a documentary and a portion of that documentary will document or talk about this portion of your life and how the hate was detrimental to your mental health and put you in this very dark and difficult place and it will also show more of you and your crush’s relationship and how close the two of you are and how good you are as a couple. You really will become like an “it” couple for people and they’ll see you as perfect for each other.

Allowing people to know more about you on a personal level and see you for who you truly are will completely change the narrative and you’ll be loved by not only the general public but also your crush’s fan base and you’ll grow your own fan base, as well. I heard “your story in your words” this dark period will have also given you a much thicker skin and really strengthened your relationship with your celebrity crush and after years of saying and posting nothing about each other, you can finally share more about your relationship and not have to hide it so much.

Pile 2 ༣

Cards: two of cups, six of pentacles, the hierophant, king of torches, the high priestess, king of cups, three of torches king of swords, princess of torches

I think you and your celebrity crush would have such a cute relationship 🥺 I think you’d be some sort of influencer or model? Someone that people look up to for fashion, skin care, beauty tips, etc. you’d be the type to be in one of those vogue grwm or skin care videos. You may also have had a difficult life/upbringing that you’re open/vulnerable about online and people really love to hear about your story and find you very inspiring. People also love the way you speak or write. The way you articulate and word things is very powerful and intriguing and it makes people want to listen to what you have to say. A lot of people on social media would have a very parental or older sibling sort of view of you, seeing you as a mentor and looking to you for guidance and advice.

Your celebrity crush’s fans would absolutely adore you. You may be known for interacting with/being kind to fans. I heard “they see you as an angel” 🥺 there would be so much public support for you and your celebrity crush’s relationship. I also think the two of you could travel a lot, specifically to Italy? And you’d be photographed out together holding hands and your street style would be posted a lot and used as inspiration. I think a lot of people follow/like you for your street style. You’d be known for the way you dress and also the way you carry yourself and how you take care of yourself. If you were seen using/wearing some sort of product, it would sell out very quickly because so many people follow what you do and replicate it. You have a very “it” person sort of vibe that people are attracted to.

You and your celebrity crush would have a private but not secret sort of relationship that people would love posting/talking about. It sort of reminds me of Tom Holland and Zendaya. People just love you two together and are really rooting for you. A lot of your relationship seems to be based around travel, exploring the world together. If your celebrity crush is a musician/writer, they’ll write a lot about you and fans will love to dissect lyrics about you and make deep dive posts about the parallels.

You and your celebrity crush would enjoy nature together. Sunlight and early mornings, cooking breakfast together and reading books together. Sitting at the table at dinner time and talking about your days. You’d really enjoy the everyday mundane things. I heard “mom and dad” and earlier in the reading I heard “mother is mothering” 😭 so fans may say these things about you a lot on social media. You and your celebrity crush wouldn’t pay much mind to social media or what’s being said. I heard “your main focus is each other” and “you’re not concerned with what the rest of the world of thinks” you can easily shut it all out and focus on the here and now. You have such a loving, well rounded relationship and a really good support system around you.

If you were drawn to both piles 1 and 2, this pile can be what your life with your celebrity crush is like after overcoming the difficult period described in pile 1. I just felt really strongly that some of my pile 1s were also attracted to this group and I figured some of you would be confused since there’s such a stark contrast in the two piles and wanted to provide some insight for those who need it. If you didn’t feel drawn to the other pile or haven’t already read it, don’t worry about it. That pile may not be for you and that’s perfectly fine :)

Pile 3 ༣

This pile does have 18+ messages. Because of the energy in this pile and the overall relationship spoken about in this pile, there was simply no way for me to do it without making it 18+ and I’m so sorry if that’s not what you’re looking for.

Also, as usual, my 18+ readings are not for minors so please do not read this pile if you are under 18 years of age, this reading is not for you.

Cards: ten of pentacles, king of cups, ace of pentacles, six of pentacles, death, justice, two of pentacles, two of cups, ten of torches ace of cups princess of swords

Pile 3, you may or may not be a Pedro Pascal girly (I mean girly in a gender neutral way. Anyone can be a girly) but that’s definitely the vibe I’m getting. Your celebrity crush is an older male and definitely an actor. I got musician vibes from the other two piles but this is 100% an actor and I think you’d meet them because you would also be an actor.

For a select few of you, your celebrity crush might be David Harbour but for most of you, it’s definitely Pedro Pascal. For some it’s Jamie Campbell Bower. I had to google him cause I didn’t know his name but an image of him kept popping up in my head. He’s only 34 so not as old as David or Pedro but for those of you 18-25 that’s still most definitely an age gap. Mostly Pedro Pascal energy tho.

I’m terribly sorry, Pile 3, but you would not have a healthy, long term relationship with your celebrity crush. However, it would be the most passionate and intense relationship you’d ever have. I think you’d meet on the set of some movie you’re both in and have a very intense and messy, although short lived romance. The sex would be intense and passionate but so would the fights but the makeup sex after the fights would be the best you’d ever have in your entire life. There seems to be an issue with you wanting more and this person person wanting a strictly sexual relationship.

I think I’ve seen somewhere that Pedro Pascal had said he doesn’t do relationships because they hurt too much or something like that and so he prefers to just stay single and this situation definitely gives me those vibes and that’s where a lot of the conflict would come from. You would know that this person feels all the same things you do but they’re fine with just channeling those feelings into the sex the two of you have (which would be what made it so good) while you want to channel it into a relationship and have something long term and stable with this person and it causes a lot of very heated arguments. You can’t stay away from each other though so these arguments never last long.

You’d spend a lot of time trying to make this person jealous or wishing they’d just accept their feelings and pursue a relationship with you however if they did, I think you’d get bored. The passion and intensity is what makes this relationship worth while for both of you and without it you’d just get tired of them and lose interest. You’d need the intense fights and passion makeup sex to make this relationship work and I think your celebrity crush would know that. They may even tell you that you just don’t understand because you’re younger than them and there’s a maturity difference and that would drive you insane. This relationship reminds me a lot of “illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift and I also heard All Too Well (10 Minute Version) when I was shuffling.

There may be blind items/rumors about this relationship because it will be very known on set. People may even hear the two do you fighting (or partaking in other activities 👀) from outside of your trailers. It will definitely be a big topic of gossip on set and online for awhile but nothing with ever be confirmed by anyone publicly and it will live on as a rumor.

Eventually, filming would end and I think this relationship would end with it but you’d spend a long time hung up on this person and still trying to do things to get their attention or make them jealous, long after the two of you are no longer in contact. “Question…?” By Taylor Swift is also playing in my head right now. Specifically the lyric “I don’t remember who I was before you painted all my nights a color I have searched for since” and the lyric “I wake with your memory over me, that’s a real fucking legacy to leave” from Maroon. This relationship would have a huge impact on you and linger in your mind for a very long time, possibly even years. They would always be your “what if” person and the thought of what could have been would haunt you late at night, years and years after it’s ended.

I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!

Mara ࿐ྂ

[erikftglitter]

Ch 1 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

“Hey Dr. Stevens. It’s Kari. I just wanted to thank you again for the kind gesture.”

Erik read the message several times before exuding a deep sigh. He had spent most of the night trying to forget the younger woman, but the universe was setting him up for failure.

She’s practically in our hands, Erik.

He wanted to silence the overbearing thoughts from flowing but he couldn’t help but to also think that it was true. Didn’t he deserve the woman and kids that Kari, and so many others, mentioned to him before? Did he really want to commit to dying alone in a world like this?

“No need to thank me Kari. Thank you for not contacting the board about our collision.”

Erik found himself humored with his own response. Little did he know that Kari was gushing from the desk chair that she was texting from. Could this be? She wondered if the doctor would really be interested in seeing her again. Well, seeing her under normal circumstances.

“I won’t…. Only if you allow me to be your tour guide.”

Kari was persistent, inexperienced, but persistent to get the ex-SEAL out of the house. She surprised herself with her forwardness but the clock was ticking and her local blue-collared men were no where near as appealing as Dr. Stevens.

“A man of my word, that I am. Saturday?”

Erik needed to be strategic about his decisions moving forward if he wanted this woman to live. His self deprivation was starting to take a toll on him. He knew that it wouldn’t take long for it boil over once Kari was in his presence.

Just thinking about the girl’s astonishing aura and utter beauty made Erik’s dick jump yet again. What was it about her? He thought back to the initial moment when they locked eyes. She could not maintain eye contact and that certainly enamored him. He could spot a submissive woman quite easily.

Not just someone who was infatuated by the idea of being dominated by him, but someone who was completely meek. Someone who would be most compliant tied up and fucked to the state of oblivion. Kari Evans radiated that. Erik was 99% percent that his declaration of the girl was correct but he’d be patient enough to find out.

“Yes. Wear comfy shoes.”

Erik was more than pleased to return back to work. To focus on a ruptured appendix, or to remove someone’s gallbladder, or even just to guide one of his residents through a hemorrhoid surgery, supplied him a reasonable amount of distraction time. During surgery his main focus was his performance efficiency. Dr. Erik Stevens did not kill patients. One of the reasons the he remains one of the highest earners in the nation is due to that. Erik knew his limitations and typically did not engage in anything that would kill anyone, inside and outside of the operating room, post departure from the Navy.

“Dr. Stevens. Got a minute?” Erik glanced up from his seat at the computer and signaled for the man to continue.

“I was looking over Mrs. Gutierrez’s files, the one who was just transferred, and she’s rejecting the transplant.”

Erik’s face fell into a deep frown. In only his three months at Oregon State Hospital, he’s noticing the consistent errors being completed by the competing hospital. Once their team botches a surgery; Erik and his team are left to clean up the mess.

“Another transplant this soon would kill her before the week ends. Contact her family and consult about the removal. If they wait then the sepsis will spread.”

Erik looked at the extent of the damage on the results that his resident provided. He’s not completely successful just because of his own experience. Thankfully Oregon welcomed him with a skilled team upon his negotiation and he was provided with them when he arrived. He wasn’t fond of many people in his life, but some of his team made his job rewarding.

“Great call.” He murmured to himself. He learned from his mentor, that learned from his mentor, and so forth, that praising young professionals too early made them arrogant. Made them incompetent surgeons who overlooked misplaced sutures, mistreated nurses, and failed to remain at the peak of their performance. The younger surgeon reminded him of himself. That was as respected as he could be.

Kari on the other hand was not having a good time. One of her middle schoolers thought it was a great idea to climb a tree and ultimately suffered a great fall. Why? Kari didn’t have the time to asks as the girl was soaking blood through her jeans.

With trembly hands, Kari used her walkie talkie to call for an ambulance and tried her best to soothe the hysterical girl.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Kari must have repeated that a thousand times before the first responders arrived.

“Ms. Evans. Nina will not cooperate unless you ride with her.” Principal Grant said to Nina as she stood up to disregard the abundance of bloody tissues.

“Don’t worry about the sub plans. The parents would like if you accompanied her as well.” He gave her an empathetic look. “Thank you for being one of good ones.” He whispered when Kari was helped in the ambulance by the first responders.

It was true. Kari was an extraordinary educator. Each of her students were individualized. She knew their strengths, allergies, their personalities, and their ability to learn. Because Caber City’s public school system was barely funded by the state of Oregon, most of teachers were underpaid. Most teachers married rich and taught for a hobby. The students rarely got the opportunity to experience a memorable relationship with education, but Kari made it her mission to change that.

Because she was young and unmarried with a strong sense of change, she was immediately disliked by her coworkers. She grew to pity their lives instead of watching in sorrow. Her students had the highest grades, standardized test scores, and overall success. That was no coincidence and it didn’t go unnoticed. If Kari wasn’t good at anything else she knew that she was a wonderful teacher. Years of watching and modeling her grandmother instilled that in her. She remembered her everyday.

“What’s going? How’d this happen?” Kari met the frantic parents as soon as she arrived at the hospital.

“During her lunch hour she wandered off to a tree and fell several feet from the ground.” The gasps from Nina’s parents troubled Kari. She hated bad news and bad things in general.

“I’m very sorry that this happened. I’ll go now, but I wanted to ensure that Nina was safely taken to the hospital.” Kari spoke again. Not really sure what else she could provide to these poor girls’ parents.

Nina’s mother spoke again. “Thank you for riding with her. She hates hospitals and probably would have passed out if she had to go alone.” Even though the shakiness, Kari understood every word. These were the moments that made her restless nights worth it.

Kari reached her hand to Nina’s mom, and looked at both parents, “She’s a very sweet girl. They’ll take great care of her.” With her final comment she began to frantically rush out the hospital herself. She hated hospitals just as much. With the amount of dried blood on her own clothes she knew that it wouldn’t be long before her own panic attack started.

Kari didn’t care about who she was running past, she just knew that she needed fresh air before she began to hyperventilate. The memories of finding her own grandparents in pools of blood haunted her. Drunk drivers collided with their car and drove away, killing both of the people who raised her.

“Kari?”

“Oh shit. Kari. Breathe.”

“Breathe.”

Erik took in the scene in front of him. There was no way this was yet another coincidence. This was going to be the one that one that Kill was going to play with.

With guided breaths and some gentle touches of encouragement, Kari was able to control her breathing. She’s not sure when she realized that it was Dr. Stevens she had been talking to, but at least it saved her the embarrassment of passing out in the middle of the road. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in the doctor’s proximity.

Between the wails of her student and the acquisition of her own trauma, she didn’t have much time to think about Erik.

“It’s alright Kitten.”

—

@ladymac82 :)

[carlos-in-glasses]

Where All This Love Comes From

I'm so excited to share what has been known as Flashback Fic! 107k words, with all 14 chapters here on Ao3, rated E.

Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. Afterwards, over omelets at the diner, the husbands open up to each other. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son.

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

Carlos puts his arms around him from behind and holds him still, kissing his neck. TK tries to twist in Carlos’ grip, but he won’t let him. He starts walking him towards the bedroom. “I’m desperate for you,” TK says, his blood hot, cheeks red, eyes pricking with tears. “I know.” “Make me forget everything.” “I will.” “I only want to think about you.” “You will.” Carlos stops for a breath. He smells TK – his clean hair, his evanesced cologne, his natural man scent, his salty tears that have imbued his skin, the sweat of stress. Sad, but still beautiful to Carlos. TK, delicious. “I never thought I’d have you. I never thought–” he can’t speak anymore.

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

Chapter 1: A Trail to Follow

In 2023, TK discovers something that triggers memories of heroin withdrawal seven years before – and Carlos makes amends with Gutiérrez after accusing him of his father’s murder.

Chapter 2: A Very Nice Sweater for the 'Y'

TK takes Carlos to the N.A. meeting – but when things don’t go as hoped, he instigates another method to get Carlos talking.  

Chapter 3: Snowballing

A messy situation in 2010 causes TK as a high school junior to lash out. In 2023, Carlos realizes it's time to tell TK about one more secret. 

Chapter 4: Original Sin

In 2013, Carlos accidentally destroys Gabriel’s oldest friendship. Nine years later, he attempts to make peace after he and TK get engaged.

Chapter 5: Between Two Bridges

In 2022, a grieving and struggling TK is compelled to talk to Owen about his 2020 overdose, which leads him to remember when his addiction nearly killed him years before. In 2023, TK asks Carlos about his history with alcohol. (Note: Chapter features TK using and gets fairly graphic)

Chapter 6: One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor

TK and Carlos compare notes on when they first came out – with Carlos spiraling in 2011 after an unexpected outburst, while TK in 2008 is embraced (and embarrassed) by his parents. In 2021, both handle the raw days of their breakup differently too.

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend

In 2009, Gabriel attempts to connect with his increasingly distant and unhappy teenage son. In 2013, the fallout of Carlos leaving Iris has begun, and he knows his relationship with his parents will never be the same. In 2023, TK tries to talk to Gabriel about the bombshell revelation that Carlos doesn’t want kids.

Chapter 8: Your Heart, As If It Was My Very Own

In 2011, TK is left bewildered after he loses his virginity. Years later, with Carlos, TK's mind (among other things) is blown in a whole new way. In 2022, TK has an important conversation with a certain visitor when he wakes from his coma.

Chapter 9: Coffee with Gutiérrez

In September 2023, Carlos seeks an important but painful truth from Gutiérrez, and finds an unexpected ally within the 126. Two months later in Blue Moon Diner, TK gets ready to tell Carlos more about his past in New York.

Chapter 10: The Day Begins Like Any Other

In 2016, after TK experiences an assault and sees an old friend again under devastating circumstances, he makes a life-altering decision when his dealer suggests he try something new. In 2009, TK is attacked at school. (Note: Please heed the tags and the chapter note. Reader discretion advised. Look after your hearts).

Chapter 11: Lonely as a Sparrow in the Rain

When Carlos confesses to TK about where he went with Judd back in September – and why – TK has to tell Carlos something he won't want to hear. In 2014, a rift develops when Carlos shows off his new Camaro to his parents.

Chapter 12: Happy For You, Son

Before moving to Austin, TK falls out with his parents over his relationship with Alex. In December 2020, it's a different story as Carlos hosts Owen and Gwyn for TK's birthday meal. In 2012, Carlos has some unexpected news for his own parents, but Michelle tries to intervene. When TK and Carlos get engaged a decade later, Gabriel has something to say about it.

Chapter 13: The Risk of Love

In May 2023, Owen and TK save a spiraling Carlos from making the biggest mistake of his life when he thinks he’s found his father’s killer. In 2020, TK and Carlos become boyfriends beneath a sky full of aurora borealis.

Chapter 14: A Night Worth Celebrating

On a rainy night in 2020, TK and Carlos meet for the first time. In 2023, weeks after their big talk at Blue Moon, TK celebrates his thirtieth birthday with his husband, their family and their friends by his side – and Carlos is a little bit better at sharing his secrets.

Read on A03

[empressdede]

Disrespectful .

Chapter five

Nora and Sienna were both over the attitude that took over the life of London. She was angry at everyone in the world and she had nobody to blame but herself.

They’d already crossed those lines so what was the point of having morals now? It was a question she asked herself everyday. She regrets telling him that they should’ve ended it because she hasn’t had a good day since.

She blames Roman. It was his fault. She was fine until he came and ruined her. He gave her an itch she couldn’t scratch and it was driving her insane. Her sex toys could only do so much. And James…. James couldn’t even scratch the surface of her sexual desires anymore. Before, James was enough; he got the job done.

But after having a taste of what Roman gave her, why would she settle for just getting the job done?

The worst part is, it was her who cut off their secret rendezvous and she didn’t know how to deal with the cards she dealt herself and since she couldn’t get her fix, she released her frustration with almost everyone around her: Nora, Sienna, James and it was even worse for everyone at work since she buried herself at work for a distraction.

At first, Nora thought it that her little sister’s attitude was going to pass after a couple of days but its been going on almost three months now and Nora didn’t know how long she could take it anymore.

London wasn’t the only one who blamed Roman; Nora and Sienna did too. It became very evident to the two of them that whatever those two had going on was taking a toll on London. So both girls were taking matters into their own hands. Nora and Sienna were determined to make them cross each other’s paths once again.

Who was it really hurting that they desired each other sexually? What their partners don’t know won’t kill ‘em right? And after those words left Sienna’s mouth, the girls knew exactly what they had to do.

Which brings them to now: Nora sitting in her car in front of London’s house going over the plan with Sienna over the phone.

“I’m sorry Sienna, I just don’t think three days is enough days. You don’t think you can push it to two weeks?”

Sienna scoffed, “Girl how the fuck do you expect me to distract Tiara for two weeks? The best I could do is a week and even that is pushing it. And plus, you’re worrying about the wrong thing, go try to get her to agree to the trip first and we’ll talk longevity later.” Sienna suggested.

Nora laughed because she already came to her decision for the both of them, “If the best you can do is a week then I’m gonna tell her it’s a week trip because a little weekend trip ain’t gon do shit. So Figure out what to do with Tiara cause I’m ending this angry streak by the end of the this week.”

Sienna agreed and after they hung up, Nora got out of her car to walk to London’s door. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there but when she knocked on the door, she wasn’t really expecting to hear an argument behind the door.

Damn. London was hellbent on letting everyone feel her wrath.

When James opened the door, Nora took pity on the tired look on his face. But she only kind’ve felt bad for James in this situation; there wasn’t really much she could do when it came to those two anyways. She still flashed him a smile when he opened the door wider for her because unbeknownst to him, she was about to fix this problem.

“I’m sorry Nora, Now really isn’t a good time.” James tried but Nora held her hand in the air to silence him, she came here on her own mission and she wasn’t going to let James close the door in her face.

"Nonsense; seems like the perfect time to me. Where’s my sister?" She questioned but London let herself e known by her yelling.

"And just what the fuck am I supposed to do when you leave James? You knew I was going to take my vacation with you and now all of a sudden they need you of all people to go to an open house?"

Nora flashed him another smile before entering into the house to find her sister in the living room. "Well what’s going on in here?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess that was in the living room with clothes being thrown all over the place.

"She’s upset because she wants to take a vacation but I can’t. I haven’t sold any property in five months, I don’t want to pass up on the opportunity to bring home some money - I’m sorry."

“It would’ve been different James, if you had no idea of my plans, but you fuckin knew!” London argues, dismissing his attempt to apologize.

“Babe I can’t just drop everything just because you want me to.”

“So you don’t wanna go out with me even though you make your own schedule?”

James let out another sigh and walks away from the living room, this argument was going nowhere and he was tired. London scoffed as she watched James walk away, ignoring her question. She couldn’t believe this was even an argument.

“Talk about a coincidence.” Nora states with a smirk on her face.

The statement caused London to turn around and face her sister, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Girl what the hell are you talking about?”

“Girl, I literally came here to ask if you wanted to take a sisters trip to Houston. Just you and me playing catch up, ya know?” Nora explains and shrugs at her sister. “What better time than now huh?”

“And since when you been thinking of this?” London questions.

“ I seen how stressed out you’ve been lately and I want to help you, I hate seeing you so stressed out. Plus…” she steps closer to her little sister and lowers her voice so she wouldn’t be heard. “I know you don’t really want to spend an entire week with James right now, so let’s just go and enjoy ourselves okay?”

It really didn’t take a lot of convincing on Nora’s end to get London to agree to go out. As horrible as it was to admit, her sister was right… She really didn’t want to go anywhere with James; but he’s been claiming how weird she’s been with him, and she wanted to do to something to make up for her bad mood swings. She couldn’t help it though, she needed an outlet to let out her frustrations.

She’s more than thankful for her sister coming to the rescue. Hopefully this trip could get her mind off you know who.

Unbeknownst to London, Nora was quick to send out a text to Sienna to let her know that the plan was going as planned so far.

we’re good on our end, Get started on your end.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roman was confused when he got a random call from Khalid asking him to get away for a while. It wasn’t like him to isolate himself, but he can only guess him and Sienna were into it because Tiara had told him that Sienna had invited her out to New York for some kind of fashion week.

He originally decline, but Tiara convince him to go; stating that Khalid just needed a friend, the same way Sienna needed a friend. So here he was, in Houston, Texas, at a Ritz hotel, wondering what in the world could Sienna have done to make Khalid supposedly so angry.

“So what made you run away?” Roman asked during their game of call of duty.

Khalid raised an eyebrow at the random question. “Huh?”

“How come you’re in Texas and Sienna’s in New York? What made y’all run 1500 miles away from each other?” Roman asked again.

Oh. Right. Khalid almost forgot his wife sent him here on a mission.

“How do you know she’s in New York? I thought she was back home.” Khalid questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“Tiara caught a flight to New York a couple hours before I flew out myself, She’s the one who told me they were going to New York. Anyways, you didn’t answer my question; what made you run away? Why are we in Texas instead of Florida?.” Roman questioned him again for the third time.

Khalid wondered if he presented Roman’s own problems, if he would catch on. “I’m in Texas because I need space to think about our relationship. I don’t wanna hear any speeches or anything but… I cheated on Sienna and I think she knows.”

Khalid paused the game and turn to face Roman to continue spewing out bullshit. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Roman nodded his head because he understood - sometimes life doesn’t happen the way you expect it to. “Unfortunately, I know how you feel.” Roman reveals and Khalid raises his eyebrow in faux shock.

“You cheated on Tiara?”

“Something like that. I’ll take my faults, it’s wrong because I’m married but there’s nothing wrong with exploring for a bit; as long as you find your way back home. At least that’s what I did.” Roman confessed.

“If you could go back in time and take it back, would you?” Khalid questioned and the heavy silence that took over the room really answered his question but Khalid wanted Roman to really get it off his chest. “It’s just between you and me bro… do you regret it?”

“No.” Roman finally answers, but the look in his eyes is very distant, almost as if he was lost in thought. “I know I don’t sound like a committed husband but if I had the chance to do it again with the person who I did it with; I would.”

Khalid let out a hum and nodded his head to let Roman know he was listening. And he was, that confession was all he needed to move forward with his wife’s plans.

______________________________________

London, let herself relax in the hotel bed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the silence of the room helped her feel so relax. If only her mind was as quiet as the room; her mind going to the one man who couldn’t escape her thoughts matter how hard she tried.

She hasn’t seen him since that last dinner because she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stand on business. London was a prideful woman, she was never going to admit how much she regret her decision on cutting him off.

Why the fuck do you keep thinking about him anyway? This has to stop. It’s what she’s been telling herself for these past couple of months and she still couldn’t do it.

She finds herself missing him in the weirdest times. If she’s in a boring meeting, she’ll reminisce on the time where he text her to keep her entertained. If she went out to to eat, she missed his endless compliments or even the risky freaky shit he would pull with her, like fingering her under the table when the waitress came back to ask if everything was okay. She especially missed the sex… damn did she miss the sex.

Roman took his time to learn her body, he found out what she liked and he even introduced her to new things that she found herself loving. Sex with Roman was always exciting; especially when he would fuck her in places where she usually wouldn’t let herself do those kinds of activities: in her office, backseat of his car with or without his chauffeur… almost one time in the locker room - Roman never cared. If he desired her, he was going to to have her and she missed the feeling.

Missed feeling desirable, missed the funny moments between the two of them… she missed her friendship with Roman. He was her friend first and she missed her friend.

“Okay girl; I’m over this little rut that you’ve been having. It’s time for us to go out and shake some ass, Let’s go!” Nora exclaimed when she busted into London’s room.

“What the fuck do I look like going to the club to shake some ass as a married woman?” London questioned with a confused look on her face.

Nora scoffed and rolled her eyes, “When did being married mean you can’t be outside and shake some ass?”

London let out a tire sigh, “I just wanna relax. Maybe call a masseuse to give us a massage. I’m away from home and I’d really like to enjoy it.”

“You’d really enjoy it if you stop fighting me and go out with me.” Nora retorted and London sat up and squinted her eyes in suspicion at her older sister.

“What you got up yo sleeve Nora?” She questioned, getting straight to the point.

Nora exhaled and walked towards her sister to take a seat on the bed. “London, I know you won’t talk about what’s bothering you and I respect that; can you just respect that it hurts me to see you like that? I’ve been taking care of you for the longest, I always know when you need a break, why don’t you just let me help you?”

Albeit everything she was saying was true, Nora knew she had to lay it on thick for London to agree to go out with her. London’s eyes scan Nora’s face and took in her expression, the sadden look in her sister’s eyes is what made her drop her shoulders in defeat.

“Fine. But if I’m not enjoying myself after an hour; I’m leaving.”

Nora flashed her blinding smile, nodding her head to agree with her conditions “Great! I’ll go get ready and you can meet me downstairs okay?” She didn’t even let London respond as she rushed out of the room in excitement. London, huffed as she let herself flop backwards onto the bed, she just hope she doesn’t regret this.

______________________________________

After London finished getting dressed for her night out with her sister; she stood in front of the mirror touching up on her make up as she thought about ways she could convince her sister to let her come home early.

Her phone going off, snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned to see who was calling: Nora. “Hello?”

“Hey, did you leave your room yet?”

“No, I’m about to leave though; I’m coming downstairs right now.” London explained.

“Before you come downstairs, can you go to my room and grab me a pair of sandals? I forgot to grab it.”

“Why can’t you just go and grab it?” London asked in annoyance.

“London, you’re already upstairs; can you just please?” Nora begged and London let’s out a groan before agreeing.

“Great, my room is on the fifth floor, room 26. I think housekeeping is still cleaning the mess I made so just knock okay?” And without any other explanation Nora hung up the phone.

She’s been so demanding since we got here, I thought she wanted me to have a good time? London thought to herself. The entire elevator ride to the floor above hers she thought about what the fuck was going on with Nora in the first place.

The last time Nora took London on a sister trip, it was to break the news that she was getting a divorce. What type of bad news did she have to break to me now? She wondered. Her mind was running through all the possibilities of what could have her sister acting so weird while she off the elevator to look for room 26.

She let out a small huff because she was drawing a blank, she’ll just have to ask her sister why the fuck she was acting to weird when she got downstairs. She knocked on the door and waited for housekeeping to open the door.

Didn’t she give me her keycard? London asked herself, she remembers them giving each other keycard when they got here. Before London could give look in her clutch to search for the hotel keycard, the door finally opened and when she looked up she felt all the breath in her lungs leave her body.

“Roman?” She breathed out in disbelief. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.

Roman himself froze as he stared at the woman in front of him. There’s no way she was standing in front of him right now. “London… what-“ he trailed off because he really didn’t know what to say.

It’s been almost three months since they last seen each other, the feeling of shock is what keeping them frozen in their spot.

“What are you doing here?” London finally asks, her mind racing because seeing him did nothing but resurface those feelings she was reminiscing about earlier. Did he have a show here? She questioned. That could be the only reason he’s here right?

“Khalid brought me here. Him and Sienna are going through it.” He answered.

Nora set me up, she brought me out here and set this whole thing up.

Everything was making sense, because even if Khalid and Sienna were going through it, Khalid wouldn’t have left Florida. They set her up, and her body was yearning to just touch him.

“You know they set us up right?” He states, and yeah. If she was going to be pushed in this direction anyways, she didn’t give a damn about the consequences anymore.

“Are we going to take advantage of the opportunity?” London asked softly and it wasn’t something the two had to really think about. They’ve denied themselves what they really wanted for long enough, and if their friends were going to push them into each other’s arms, who were they to fight what everyone else thought they needed too.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roman and London lost themselves in each other like they usually did, but the feeling wasn’t the same as it was before.

What was so different about tonight?

There was something more profound than lust and sexual tension lingering in the air between them. When Roman pulled her into the room, their lips immediately push against the other and instead of the fast kissing they were used to, it was slow…sensual.

When they broke apart they stared into each other’s eyes. The lines of their friendship was blurred with the unexplainable feeling they were feeling for each other in the moment, they couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling was exactly.

But it’s what made London grab his neck and pull him back down to her. Their lips brushed against one another’s and the hesitation made London pull away but Roman made the choice to close the gap between them. London’s helpless moan slipped from her lips and she melted into the embrace, pushing her body against him as if to make them one.

The taste of him was intoxicating, it was one of the things she missed about him.

Roman led the two to his bed, and London made herself comfortable in his lap. Her hands caressing his shoulders and eventually moved her hands over his strong arms as their lips smothered each others again.

Chills ran through her body when he trailed his hands up her thigh to grip onto her ass, that’s when she knew this was real. She’d fall victim to daydreaming - especially when her and James were trying to get into it but she’d always come back to reality. But this… this was reality. James never touched her like that.

His hands were roaming her body as if taking in this moment would be her last. Her body was vulnerable to his touch, and she could hear her heart beat drum in her ears.

The sweet feeling of his warm body mixed with the throbbing between her legs radiated more than a positive feeling of intense pleasure of her brain. She didn’t know if it was possible to feel the way she felt at the moment: fuzzy at the brain, and warm at the heart.

They didn’t want to rush the moment, especially since it was something her sister wanted to bless them with. Upon seeing her outfit, he fell into their old routine.

“You look like an Angel.” He softly murmured in her ear before he started undressing her. “Most beautiful thing on Earth and It’s all for me isn’t it?”

And there it was, that feeling she was missing rushing back into her lungs almost as she deeply inhaled his words, that feeling of wanting to feel desirable. That feeling from earlier returned but it wasn’t a feeling she could identify at the moment so she focused on the feelings she could.

At the impulse decision of the moment, their bare bodies touched each other’s. As soon as Roman was submerged within her, she swallowed up some of his thick inches with pride and contentment. Undoubtably, her eyes flickered to the back of her head, her lips separated, and her back arched off the bed and pressed to his chest. Being so close to him, was enough to send her body into a frenzy of different emotions. Not only because it felt so good, but because it was him. Because it was Roman.

There’s synchronized movements were coupled. London’s fingernails, digging into his back and the sound of her soft moans only seasoned the moment for the both of them. She pulled his head between the crook of her neck and let her heavy pants fill his ear.

At her own allowance, she caught a sweaty grip onto his arms and extended her legs wider to pull him in deeper than before. She wanted all of it, all of him. She wasn’t holding back on taking anything he was willing to give her; she’s gone long enough without it.

Their lips met again, and while he sucked on her tongue, she let out whimpers of pleasure into the air. Roman had to give himself a silent, prep talk to encourage himself not to cum too fast, it’s been a while since he’s been in her and her wetness was driving him crazy.

He knew what she wanted without her, having to ask for it. The passionate quickening of his strokes, promoted her to tango, her legs around his torso. Her arms in case themselves around his neck; she held onto him for dear life. Her cries of pure delight escalated be on guidance. He fucked her soul into oblivion like he’s done before. She would have never imagined herself calling out God’s name, but she did just that, screeching to the heavens, while she let that dick dominate her cloudy mind and rock her entire existence into a temporary state of belief.

Without any separation between them, they painted all of their essence all over the bed. Roman could feel her in every pulsing vein in his body until he’d consumed all that was left of her.

They were both so lost in the moment that it didn’t register to either of them that a condom was initiated and neither of them seemed to care when Roman groaned into her ear and emptied himself in her. It only made London tighten her legs around his body and keep him trapped in between her legs and she welcomed the feeling of his fluids filling her up.

Never again. She wasn’t letting Roman leave her ever again. If this was wrong, she never wanted to be right. Ever.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Whew😩 this chapter went exactly how I wanted it to. I’m sorry it’s such a long read😩 I just couldn’t break it up. You guys won’t wait that long for the next chapter 😭 I promise.

As per usual please comment and gimme some love 🥹💙

Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @theninthwonder @christinabae @2-muchsauce @alichesmi @pitlissa22 @sassginawanmills @harmshake @po3ticb3auty @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @dershalover89 @serena004 @reci1996 @scarlettnoir01 @kill-the-artiste @southerngirl41 @badbitchcentralinc @reignsboy19 @mzv11 @cyberdejos2 @msbigredmachine @msniaimani @skyesthebomb @wanderingreigns @katymae12344 @bebesobrielo @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01

[lillaydee]

One Heart Part 12

Sheriff Joel Miller / Reader

Trying and failing miserably to recover from an inconceivable loss, you accepted your best friend's invite to spend time with her and her family for a summer, hoping for a chance at a new beginning. Little did you know that the new beginning you were stepping into was a little too close to home.

WARNING:

Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Grief/Mourning, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Ellie is mentioned, Sheriff Joel, Sarah plays matchmaker, No age gap, Joel is in his 30s, Joel is Trying His Best (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Fluff and Angst.

SERIES MASTERLIST

PART 11

---

After two weeks, you went back to work. He drove you, of course, despite your many protests. It was useless at this point, anyway, since he was cleared to drive, annoyingly. You were sure there were threats involved in Santi’s decision to let him do that. He was not due to go back to work for another month, but he was restless, wanting to keep busy. He tried to improve your tiny house, and of course you had to threaten him with finding elsewhere to sleep if he so much as moved or fixed one item in the house. The men at the farm had to fend him off with sticks to stop him from lifting bales of hay for the horses. Omera started slamming the door in his face when he tried taking his restlessness to her furniture. Jenny straight up locked the door and took away his key when she caught him measuring her kitchen cabinetry.

And then one day he stopped. He stopped trying to help, seemingly found a project he was happy with, that apparently was given approval by Jenny, since Benny, Tommy and Will were helping him out, and doing the heavy lifting. She absolutely refused to tell you what it was, though, so you decided to shut up and stop asking. But he looked happier, lighter, a pep in his step, you might even say.

You found out what it was a couple of weeks later.

Jenny asked you to help her with one of the houses one Sunday. The tenant had just moved out and the house had been refurbished, but she could use your opinion on the kitchen layout before putting it back up for rental. Let’s go take a look at the house, shall we?

It was the three bedroomed house on the other side of the property. You had seen it before, of course, and had known the family that lived there. You knew that the father was a park ranger and had requested a transfer to be nearer to his parents, who were getting older. The house looked as if it had been spruced up. Painted, at the very least, and a small plot had been transformed into an area that was filled with planters – ideal for a small garden. The house was lovely. Not too big, and definitely nowhere near as small as yours. The whole house smelled of fresh paint, and it was clear that it had been refurbished. It looked like new. Normal, Jenny said, for every time a long-term tenant moved out.

Except, the kitchen was bare. No cabinetry, no stove. 

“What would a professional chef do with this kitchen, do you think? I know it’s not that big, but I could use your opinion,” she said.

“Well, I’m only a professional chef at the restaurant, and professional kitchens are too sterile for my liking.” You began telling her what would work, given the size and style of the place, as well as the layout of the kitchen and living room next to it. Where the stove would go, the sink, the fridge, inadvertently telling her what your dream kitchen for a place like this would be like, not that you would tell her that.

“And I would put a small island here, big enough to work on, and maybe have breakfast for a small family, but nothing too big, and it should be perfect. Won’t cost too much, and there would be plenty of space for storage,” you finished, picturing yourself being in the kitchen, a bit jealous of the new people living there.

“Would there be enough space to make out in there?” Joel’s voice asked, making you jump.

“Oh my God, you are such a pervert!” you joked, rolling your eyes, going to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, asking you what you thought of the house. Apparently, him and his brothers had worked hard refurbishing the house. You were about to chastise him, but he put his hands up, promising that he only supervised, and did some painting.

“I like it, it’s kinda perfect. Especially for small families.”

“Isn’t it? I’ve always liked this house. I even thought, at one point, that I would bring Sarah to live here when she’s old enough. The last time this place was vacant she was still a baby, with how sick she was it wasn’t practical for me to live here with her.”

“I think she’d like that. You could put a swing in the back.”

“And she and Jello could have breakfast at the kitchen island? Do her homework on the dining table?”

“Oh, that would be so cute. I can just picture it.”

“Could you picture yourself living here with us?” his eyes were fixed on his feet, not daring to look at you.

“Maybe, one day.”

“How far away is one day? Cause my version of one day is as soon as we can get that kitchen you just described in and furnish this place.”

You were stunned.

“Will you move in with me and Sarah? Please? Start a life with me? It’s fast, I know, but…”

“Yes.”

“Yes? You’ll move in here with us?”

“Yes.”

He hugged you. Tight. Like he never wanted to let go. He took your lips in his, murmuring ‘I love you’ and ‘thank you’ over and over. He pinned you to the kitchen wall, eager to christen the house.

“Joel, your wound.”

“Fuck it. I need you,” he protested, before trying to lift you to get a better angle and winced, an involuntary hiss escaping his mouth.

“I told you! Are you okay?”

“Yeah… maybe we’ll wait until we’ve moved in before I do all the things I’ve been planning to do to you in here.”

God, please give you strength.

---

The three of you walked hand in hand through the headstones, the morning dew sticking to your feet. Before you were hundreds upon hundreds of headstones, varied in sizes and design, all in neat lines, some with flowers, some without, the grass well maintained, the sounds of the city somehow muted despite the cemetery being right next to it. You squeezed Joel’s hand, and he and Sarah hung back, while you walked on. You stopped at a large headstone, two names on it – the two people whose loss made you want to give up on life altogether.

Eric Williams 11th May 1985 – 21st November 2016 Beloved Husband and Father Ellie Williams 30th August 2014 – 26th November 2016 Beloved Daughter Angels Taken Too Soon Father and Daughter, Together Forever

You sat in front of the headstone, brushing your fingers over their names. You placed the flowers you brought in the vases, swiping errant leaves and sticks off the base.

“Hi Sweetheart, hi Jellybean,” you said, able to speak clearly here for the first time. You had always been too broken to do so, often just crying silently, wishing you were with them. “I’ve missed both of you so much. I hope you are happy, wherever you are, having lots of fun, and missing me,” you laughed a little, trying to make small jokes. “I’m doing okay, I’m moving away, so I won’t be able to visit as often, but I promise you that I’m taking you with me, you are with me every day, here…” you placed your hand over your heart. “I hope that’s okay.”

You took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to tell them who you’ve brought with you.

“I brought some people to see you two if you don’t mind. They’d like to thank you, Jellybean. They are good people… I’m moving in with them. Now don’t be jealous sweetheart,” you said, a bit teary now, touching Eric’s name, “You will always be in my heart, you will always be my first love. But I’m taking your advice, and I’m moving on… thank you for encouraging that… couldn’t have done it without you…”

You stopped to compose yourself a little bit. “I’m gonna call them now, but before they get here, I want you both to know, that I love you both so much, with every little piece of my very broken heart. I’m trying to piece it back together, and I promise that you will always be a part of me. I’ll come see you again, okay?”

You brought your fingers to your lips and placed them on each of their names. You wiped your tears, turned around and nodded to Joel. He lifted Sarah up, and came to you, set her down between the two of you.

“Eric, Ellie, these are Joel and Sarah.”

“Hi,” Sarah said, her sweet voice filling the open space.

“Hello, you two,” Joel said.

“I’ll give you guys some time,” you said, before brushing your hand on the headstone one last time and walked away.

Joel took a knee in front of the headstone, one hand around Sarah.

“I wanted to thank you two, especially you, Ellie, for what you’ve done for Sarah here. There are not enough words in this world that can help me convey how thankful I am to you. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have met, from what Lynn and Maria told me about you two, you sounded like good people, and I’m sure Sarah here would’ve gotten along swimmingly with Ellie. I hope you found peace, and please know, that you will never be forgotten as long as we live. Thank you again, for the role you have played in our lives.”

He got up, leaned into Eric’s name, touched the headstone above it, and whispered, “I’ll take care of her for you, Eric. I promise. Don’t you worry about her. I will protect her with my life if I have to. She told me about her dream, what you said. Glad to know I have your blessing. Thanks again buddy, I’ll visit again soon.” He patted the headstone like he would a friend’s shoulder, brushed Ellie’s name with the back of his forefinger, just as he would Sarah’s cheek, and stepped back. He blinked back tears, and asked Sarah if she wanted to say anything.

You watched as Joel spoke, and after a while, he turned and walked back to you, leaving Sarah alone at the headstone. You watched as he wiped a tear from his eye and gave you a hug.

“She wanted to speak to them alone.”

The two of you watched, as Sarah sat down, cross legged in front of Ellie’s name, Jello in her lap. You could only imagine what she was saying, but you and Joel giggled a little at the thought of her introducing Ellie to Jello the purple bear. After a few minutes, she got up, and leaned on the headstone above Ellie’s name, giving it a hug, before doing the same to Eric’s. She came running back to the two of you, tears in her eyes, raising both arms at you, silently asking for you to carry her, her head on your shoulder, sniffling quietly. 

Just as you turned to leave, she said quietly,

“Bye Jello. I miss you.”

You and Joel looked at her, Jello still in her hand.

“Jello’s right here sweetie,” you said. “She’s coming home with us.”

“No… Jello stays,” she said, acceptance in her voice, waving a sad goodbye to the headstone.

You looked at Joel questioningly, he shrugged.

You got in the rental car, Sarah got into the back seat, standing between the two front seats while Joel rechecked her car seat – it was a different model and a different car, and the Papa Bear in him needed to be sure it was safe. You got a text from Lennie, asking what time the three of you would meet her and family for lunch, excited to meet Joel and Sarah. The picture of Eric and Ellie popped up on your locked screen.

“Jello!” Sarah said excitedly, pointing at Ellie’s picture.

“No sweetie, that’s Ellie. You spoke to her just now, remember?”

“No, that’s Jello.”

Joel picked Jello up, “This is Jello, BabyGirl, that’s Ellie.”

“No, this is Teddy now. That's Jello. Jello stays here,” she said, before hugging the bear and getting in the car seat, waiting patiently as Joel buckled her in, a sad look on her face.

A thought came to you. Sarah had never seen that picture before; Joel had always been strict about her playing games on phones that were not his or Jenny’s. She had never seen Ellie’s picture. You and Joel looked at each other in realisation, thinking of all the Jello involved menaces that had happened in the past few months, both of you huffing a laugh, tears in your eyes.

Your sweet, sweet Ellie. Your Jellybean.

Jello.

---

Joel closed the door behind him, placing his keys in the bowl on the console table. A delicious smell was wafting in the house, the sliding door and kitchen windows cracked open, letting the cool autumn air in. He toed his shoes off and walked into the kitchen, greeted by the sight of his little girl colouring on the kitchen counter, Jel-Teddy on her lap. You popped up from behind the counter, a tray of lasagna – the source of the smell, no doubt - in your mitt-proofed hands.

Joel leaned against the wall, taking in this sight he had dreamed of since that first time you cooked omelettes for him at your place. The three of you had officially moved in yesterday, spending the entire weekend unpacking and finally sleeping at the new house for the first time the night before. This morning, you made him omelettes – fast becoming a favourite of his – for breakfast, letting him feel you up as you made them, proving that there was, indeed, room for making out in your new kitchen, before Sarah woke up and joined the two of you. It was even better than his dream, he thought. He went to work with a heavy heart, looking forward to coming home to this exact sight, his heart feeling so full it could burst.

You placed the lasagna dish on the cooling rack, taking the mitts off, seeing Joel standing against the wall, his face the definition of contentment. He smiled when you noticed him, coming over to kiss Sarah on the head, giving her a squishy hug, praising her colouring skills, before going around the island to give you a breath-stealing kiss.

“Honey, I’m home,” he murmured against your lips.

“Welcome home baby.”

You basked in the feel of him, in your new home, with your newfound family.

There was a knock at the door, signalling the arrival of Jenny, Omera and Winta for dinner. They were delighted seeing the house all moved into, excitedly looking around, when a little voice piped up.

“Mommy, Daddy, I’m hungry.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat.

Mommy.

Joel gave you a side hug, eyes fixed on you, silently asking you if you’d be okay with her calling you that.

You got on your knees before her, hugged her little body tight, your ear on her chest, your eyes closed, revelling in the steady heart beats, filling your still healing heart that you thought would never be full again.

---

“Sarah sweetie, please don’t go outside, you can play on the swing later, I don’t want you to get your dress all dirty.”

Sarah closed the sliding door back up, disappointed to have been caught, and joined her cousin Winta on the couch. She was dressed in a fluffy white dress, a pink bow on her waist, with a matching headband in her hair. Teddy, a boy now, apparently, was looking particularly dashing, having been dry cleaned (a request by Maria, who had to gently wrestle the bear from her tiny hands) and dressed in a smart little tux and bowtie that Jenny had sown for him. A newly pregnant Maria was sitting on your couch, brushing a similarly dressed Winta’s hair. The doorbell rang, and you rushed to get it, dropping Maria a glass of water on the way.

You opened the door to some very excited faces, all smartly dressed in black suits, a white rose tucked neatly in their lapel. Tommy, Benny, Frankie and Santi entered, Tommy immediately drawn to his wife and nieces on the couch, the others straight to the kitchen to see what last minute treats you had available. Joel stood outside, looking sinfully dashing in his suit, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars for him.

“Hello, can I help you?” you asked him, leaning on the door frame.

“Baby…” he said, looking you up and down, before coming close to pull you into a kiss and a hug, “you shouldn’t look this good. It’s not fair to the bride,” he whispered, giving your earlobe a nip, making goosebumps sprout all over your body. “How long do we have to stay at the wedding?”

“One, you haven’t seen the bride yet, and two, the wedding hasn’t even started, and you’re already thinking about leaving?”

“One, no one holds a candle to you, even the bride, and two, how can I not when you look like this?” he murmured into your lips, his hand trailing down from your waist to your ass.

You playfully smacked his hands away, earning a pout from him, which quickly disappeared as soon as he saw Sarah and Teddy, going over to them, full of praises on how good they looked.

Your house had become Bridal Central, and the men were here to see the bride, currently being prepped in the bedroom you shared with Joel. The nervous groom was escorted to the farm earlier, needing the burly men working there to stop him from coming over for a peek at the bride.

Life had gone by swimmingly since you moved here. The restaurant was doing well, the farm was flourishing, Sarah had started attending daycare, adjusting well, making new friends, and you and Joel were just… in bliss.

The wedding was beautiful. You watched as the newlyweds Omera and Will danced to a slow jazzy tune, happiness clear on their faces, Joel and Tommy dancing with the girls on their feet, while you, Jenny and Maria sat at your table, taking in the sight, talking about nothing and everything.

There was a tap on your shoulder, Joel asking you to dance with him. Sarah had gotten tired and decided she wanted to sit on Gamma’s lap instead.

Joel swayed you side to side, your bodies pressed together, his eyes never leaving yours, making you blush, as if this was the first time you had ever laid an eye on him.

“Why are you blushing baby?”

“Cause the handsome Sheriff kept staring at me.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“You think?”

“I know he does. Has had one since you opened the door for him to yell at you.”

“And called me a pedo.”

He shook his head, embarrassed, but still an undeniable smile on his face.

“He fell for you right away, you know?”

“I think he fell for me because I flashed him.”

“That certainly helped,” he said, a cheeky smile on his face, his eyebrows wiggling meaningfully.

You smacked him on his chest. He continued swaying with you, humming to the song.

“You think you’d like to have one of these parties for us one day?”

“Do you?”

“Definitely,” he answered, without hesitation.

“Then, when you’re ready, all you have to do is ask.”

He stopped swaying, pulling back to look at you, excitement on his face.

“Really?”

“Yes, but not today. It’s Will and Omera’s day.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Yes, Sheriff Miller, that is a thing.”

“But you’ll say yes?”

“Eh… I’ll think about it,” you said, before pulling him back into you to sway some more.

He kissed you, long and deep, smiling into the kiss throughout the remainder of the song.

You are happy.

You made the right choice.

You braved your way into coming here.

You opened your heart again.

You stayed.  

---

THE END

[danikamariewrites]

okay BUTTTT i feel like a very important aspect to being feysand's housewife would also be co-parenting nyx and maybe even getting pregnant with a babe of her own?? feysand would be SO protective and doting of their soft little wifey bringing in their newest night court baby

Housewife part 3

A/n: omg ur so right anon. I think Nyx would love having two moms because that just means another person to love and spoil him

Warnings: poly relationship, pregnancy, and fluff

I think you would come into the relationship when Nyx was 3

They introduced you to Nyx before the inner circle. Even though he didn’t fully understand what was going on he became very attached to you

When you moved in you wanted to spend more time with Nyx

You take him out shopping with you and you always make sure to stop to get him a toy. Feyre and Rhys would give you two a look when you came home and he was holding the new toy. “What? This is the only one he needs to complete his collection.” “Yeah, I need it.” Nyx says with a small giggle at his parents faces

During the days at home you two read together, take naps, play in the garden, or playing g his favorite- hide and seek

Nyx loves to color and paint just like Feyre. You all decided fostering his creativity was important and would let him pursue any activity he wanted

Putting him to bed was always so easy

He loves bedtime stories so one of those and he’s out like a light

When he calls you mom for the first time your heart almost stops and there are tears in your eyes

You two were in the kitchen and you were making Nyx his lunch. He had just turned 4 last week so he asked for some cake with his sandwich and you couldn’t say no to that. Nyx climbed onto a chair and waited patiently for his food. When you set it down in front of him the little boy smiled up at you and said, “Thanks mom.” Before digging in

Of course he had no idea the affect him calling you mom had on you

You crouched down and pulled Nyx into a tight hug. Ruffling his hair you kissed his head. “I love you so much Nyx.” He kissed your cheek, “I love you too mom.”

When you put him down for his nap after lunch you went to Rhys’s office where he and Feyre were talking over some documents. Rhys saw you first and was confused by your tears and smile. “Y/n, is everything ok?” You nod enthusiastically. “Everything’s perfect. Nyx called me mom.” They both started crying as well and embraced you

Feyre is mommy and you’re mom, Nyx made that decision on his own

You absolutely cannot discipline this kid to save your life. Neither can Feyre so you two leave it to Rhys (he’s not very good at it either he folds pretty quick)

Special days with the three of you include going for ice cream, swims in the Sidra, and every month you take Nyx to this cute tea cafe where you eat fancy foods and have tea served in fancy cups

When he starts school the 3 of you don’t know how to handle it. You all cry on his first day not wanting him to go because it means he’s growing up and won’t need you guys one day. But that’s way far ahead

Nyx was happy to go to school, he loves making new friends and playing with the other kids

You all take turns dropping him off at school or sometimes you and Feyre drop him off together and get breakfast in the city

You always pick Nyx up and get an after school treat together where he tells you all about what he did in school

There were times when Nyx was sad and you guys never knew who he’d want to comfort him

One day when you picked Nyx up from school he had an angry scowl on his face and he was silent the whole way home. Feyre and Rhys were there to greet you at the door but he just ran up to his room and slammed the door

“What’s wrong?” Feyre asked worriedly. “I don’t know. He was quiet the whole way home. I asked but…nothing.” You started biting your lip as your mind raced. Was he being bullied? Did his teacher yell at him? Rhys heard you and Feyre having similar thoughts. He rested a hand on each of your shoulders, “I’ll go talk to him.”

Rhys got no where with Nyx. You guys accepted defeat and called in backup. Cassian and Azriel. They called themselves the A-team while referring to you 3 as the B-team (not true they are just very cocky)

After an hour of talking with Nyx they all came downstairs. Nyx climbed on the couch shoving himself between Rhys and Feyre. Cassian crouched down in front of him, “It’s ok Nyx, tell them what you told us.” He gave the little boy a reassuring smile. When you looked at Azriel you got a different vibe. The shadowsinger looked like he was about the kill someone. “Titus made fun of my family picture I drew. He got yelled at but I’m still mad.”

You swear you heard all 3 of your hearts break at once. That night you talked to Nyx about how all families are different and not everyone is going to understand that. He seemed better after that and said he would ignore Titus from now on

When you get pregnant you, Feyre, and Rhys were so excited to grow your family

The first person you guys told was Nyx

You were a little nervous telling him. How would he react? Would he hate you now? Would he be upset because all the attention would be on the new babe? You didn’t want your little guy to feel unloved or anything

You cried yourself to sleep over this in Rhys and Feyre’s arms the night before you told him

The next day you took him out for a special family day for ice cream and a new toy

When you got home your palms were sweating from nerves

Rhys ushered you all into the living room telling Nyx that you had big new to share with him. Rhys sat him in one of the Illyrian armchairs

“Nyx, we have something very important to tell you.” Rhys started. “Yes and we want you to know that we love you and this is going to be a big change, but a good one.” Feyre adds. You were supposed to bring it home and deliver the news. “You’re going to be a big brother honey. I’m pregnant, isn’t that exciting.”

Nyx just blinked at you a few times the smiled. “Will I have a brother or sister? Will they have wings too? Oh, when will they be here?” He was bouncing up and down with excitement in the big armchair

As your pregnancy went on and your belly got bigger Nyx loved saying hi to his sibling

He also loved to pat your belly and ask if you needed anything, he was just adorable

You guys pull nap on the couch together and he would read his books out loud so his little sibling would know his favorite books

[bullet-prooflove]

Goodbye Sam: Sam Abrams x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @maryelizabeth13 @toasted-stiletto @district447

Companion piece to:

Divorce!Series:

Part One: The Fight Before Christmas - You and Sam get into a fight after he discovers you've been keeping a secret from him.

Part Two: Should Have - There's a lot of things Sam should have done.

Part Three: Fraught - Sam makes a decision regarding your relationship.

Part Four: Sign Here - Sam serves you with divorce papers.

Part Five: Don't Look Back - After running into you at the hospital Sam tries to convince himself not to look back.

Part Six: Lost - You and Sam reaquaint the day the divorce comes through.

Part Seven: Martial Affairs - There's debate regarding yours and Sam's status.

Part Eight: The Fall - Sam and you end up back where you started before the divorce.

Part Nine: Couples Counselling - Sam and you start to date again after couple's counselling.

Part Ten: Mrs. Fuckin' Polite - Sam walks into a nightmare when he comes home one night.

It’s Sam’s last night in Chicago and you’ve both tried to make it as perfect as possible. Dinner at Orphino’s, a moonlit walk through the park with gelato from ‘The Little Italian Place’ just like on the night the two of you met. It seems fitting that it circles back like this. It’s how your marriage started, now it’s how it ends.

You find yourself back at the house you once shared, Sam undressing you in the illumination of the candlelight, Etta James serenading you in the background. He takes his time loving you, his lips exploring every single inch of bare skin before you climax on his tongue. He’ll never get tired of that taste, he’s going to miss it when he’s gone. You’re flushed and overwrought by the time he enters you, your fingers entwining as his mouth covers yours, drinking down your pleasure.

The two of you move together in the flickering light, the ecstasy building into a crescendo as you tighten underneath him.

“I love you.” He whispers at the height of it all because he knows he won’t get to say it again. He stays for as long as he can in the aftermath, his thumb ghosting over your cheek as he lays tangled up in you.

“I’m going to miss this.” He whispers against your lips “I’m going to miss you.”

You fall asleep wrapped up in one another until his phone chimes a couple of hours later rousing you, reminding him of his flight. He dresses in the glow from the burnt down candles as you drape your robe over your naked form. Your fingers interlink with his as you walk him to the door, his suitcase already perched alongside of it, waiting.

“So this is goodbye.” You say quietly as he lingers and Sam swallows hard against the well of emotion in his chest.

“Yea.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Elle I…”

There are so many things he wants to say but all of them are redundant because in the end it all comes down to this.

He has to go and you have to stay.

After Lucy’s rapist Marcus Croyton had been released back into the wild, the fear of running into him, of it happening again became too much. She suffered a break down and was now recovering in a facility in New York, where she could be close to her mother. Sam had dropped everything immediately, taking a sabbatical to support her before he’d made the decision to relocate, taking a position in Mount Sinai Hospital.

“I know I can’t ask you to come with me.” He’d told you, his hand clasping your hand tightly in his over dinner one evening. “You need to be here for your patients, for your mother…”

She’d been diagnosed with Parkinson’s a few months before, she was rapidly declining and you needed to be here to help her manage the condition.

“And you need to be with your daughter.” You’d finished, squeezing his hand in solidarity. “It’s ok Sam, I understand.”

You do and that’s one of the reasons that Sam loves you, because you support him with the hard choices, even when they break both of your hearts.

“Goodbye Elle.” He whispers as he kisses you one last time.

“Goodbye Sam.” You say as you open the door and watch the man you love walk away for good.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[abibliophobiaa]

the ghost of you

eddie munson x f!reader. (1.2k words).

warnings: grief; angst; major character death.

——

Raining.

It always rained on crappy days. The ones where clients yelled, your boss had you contemplating how much you really needed your job, when coworkers had you ready to toss your notebook across the workroom and shout into the open air just to expel some of the stress radiating from your form.

It also happened to rain on a day you thought you might try and get some fresh air for once, what with the weather warming in Hawkins after a brutal few months. You regretted that decision now — regretted even more so that you left your jacket at home, deeming your blouse enough to keep you warm from the slight chill still clinging to the air as spring turned into summer.

That same blouse clung to your form now. Felt like it was pasted to your body as you flicked on the light to your apartment, illuminating the space. Take away boxes lined the countertops. Your coffee table still had one too many mugs on the surface. The dishes were piled high in the sink. The garbage probably needed to be taken out soon, but you decided that was for another day.

You huffed a sigh, stripping down to your bra as you marched down the short hall into your bedroom, brushing your fingers along the strings of Eddie’s guitar as you always did before pulling out a long tee shirt and slipping it over your form. Jeans were kicked off your thighs and shorts were tugged on to replace them, feet sliding into a pair of slippers on your side of the bed.

Humming to yourself, you began washing the dishes in the sink, listening to voicemail after voicemail left on your answering machine. The last of which being Steve’s voice spilling through the speaker, “Hoping today went well. First day back, right? If you need anything, let us know. Rob and I love you, okay?”

A smile quirked your lips, growing further as a pair of arms slipped around your form, pulling you against a firm chest. “Careful with that knife, baby. You know what happened last time. Can’t afford another ER bill.”

You huffed out a laugh, dropping the knife into the dish rack. “Maybe I wouldn’t have needed three stitches if you hadn’t distracted me that day with your wandering hands, would I?”

“Touché, sweetheart,” he snorted, hopping up onto the counter. “Rough day?”

“Everyone…was fine.”

“Just fine?”

With a nod, you said, “Just treated me differently. Like I was, I don’t know, fragile. Walked around me like they were all on eggshells.”

“And how are you feeling?” he asked, head tipping to the side. “Today was a big day.”

It was. First day back, just like Steve said. “I’m…okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Just…okay.” How could you be anything but? “I missed you. I always miss you.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “Baby, you’re wearing a mark into that dish.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered out. Tossed the dish into the sink. Sunk down with your back against the kitchen cabinets, knees curled tight to your chest. “I thought I could do it, but I can’t.”

Eddie appeared near your hip, a hand on your shoulder, lips at your temple. “And that’s okay. No one said it needed to be today — or even next week. Hell, not even next year. There are no timelines on this shit.”

“There should be no timeline at all,” you cried, pushing into the heat of his body, the circle of his arms. “It shouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Life is cruel. We don’t always get what we want. We make plans and the guy upstairs laughs, right?” Eddie chuckled weakly, a watery thing, a sound that cleaved your heart. “But you tried. And that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”

“It's just…I hate this.” Your head fell against his lap, his fingers curling with your own, his other palm resting against your hip. “It feels like there’s this giant hole in my chest and it’s never going to go away. Every time it beats is a reminder of how different everything is — how unfair it all is. How I’m like this and —”

“It won’t always be this way,” he whispered, holding your fingers tighter, holding you closer. “It’s hard now. It feels like shit now. But every day you’re doing better. You’re smiling more. You’re taking care of yourself. Laughing — and you know I love that laugh. There will be those moments where you’re back there, where you remember. And you’ll always remember. One day you’ll find it won’t hurt as much. It’ll still be there, it’ll have happened, but it won’t feel like this impossible thing.”

“That scares me the most,” you choked out, back of your hand swiping at your eyes. “The pain makes it real. It makes us real. It makes you real. If it goes away…I’m afraid I’ll start to forget. That it’ll have all been a memory.”

“Baby…”

“I don’t want to close my eyes some nights, because that’s usually when I daydream, and I’m starting to forget all the lines of your face. The dimple in your smile. Exactly how your hair falls. I forget the sound of your laugh, your voice…I miss the sound of your heartbeat every night.”

You breathed in a shaky breath, heart shattering in your chest. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up one day and you’ll be gone. Forever this time.”

At least now you have him like this.

Like a ghost you dance with every night in your living room.

“I’ll always be with you, you know?” He pushed at your shoulder a little, rolling you onto your back, your head still in his lap. His hand rested over your sternum, over the space behind your ribs where your vital organ twisted painfully. “Right here. Corny as it is, but I’m allowed a pass because I’m —”

“Don’t say it,” you pleaded, cupping his cheek with a palm.

You couldn’t feel him — not really. But you pretended when he visited you like this. Tried to remember, tried to hold on to what once was — what would no longer be.

“I’ll love you forever, you know?”

Tears glowed in his eyes.

Unshed, yet there all the same.

“I died loving you,” he continued, “so it’ll always be true.”

“I think you took some of that love with you,” you whimpered, trying to remember the way his forehead felt against yours as you leaned up to rest yours against his.

“You’ll love again,” he said, though you vehemently shook your head ‘no.’ “Your heart's too big to keep it shut forever.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

He smiled softly. “Then we won’t. Not today, okay? Come here. Let me hold you.”

He stood to his feet, holding out a hand to you. You stood in the circle of his arms, cradled in his love, praying that this wasn’t the last time. Just like you did every time he came to visit before it.

“I like this with you — dancing with you in our kitchen.” He whispered the words against the crown of your head. You rested your ear against his quiet chest. “I wish I had told you more…before.”

“You can tell me now.”

“I like dancing with you in our kitchen.”

“Me too,” you told him, swaying to the sound of the rain falling outside. “Please tell me you’ll be back.”

“I will.” A promise. “One day I won’t be, though. And you’ll be okay.”

“But not today?” you pleaded, looking up into those eyes you missed so much.

“Not today.” He sealed the promise with the whisper of a kiss. “Today I just want to hold you.”

——

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Should You Do for Spring Break?

For my college babes who need ideas on what to do for the next couple of days or next month, I got you with this one! This marks one of two posts being made today! Yayyy! Without further ado, please pick your pile.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile 1: Pile One, you need to play it cool for your spring break. I feel like you really just need to let loose. Flirt a little. I see the wing of an airplane in my third eye, which lets me know that you should book a last minute flight. Try to go to a place that’s not a hot spot. Where do you feel called to? I also think you do some exploring within your city. Take a mini road trip! I specifically see a bar at night but with dancing, square dancing. Do any of you live in Texas? If not, you should take a road trip down to Texas! This is for a very select group of you, but you should elope with your significant other. It sounds crazy but your ancestral team supports it. If you’re single and ready to mingle, then you should go on a date. Perhaps a sip and paint? Maybe go to a lounge? I see a stable relationship forming from this date. You should go to a sporting event, if you can score some tickets! I saw a bowling ball, so you should definitely go bowling as well.  And lastly, you should do something that helps you recalibrate like go to a spa! You deserve it girl! 

Cards Used: Queen of Cups, Page of Wands, 2 of Discs, Temperance, King of Discs, Ace of Cups, The Hierophant, Queen of Wands. 

Signs: Pisces, Aries, Virgo, Sagittarius, Taurus. 

extras: “youngin.” bounce back. rainbows. nickleback. forty ounces. legs. promenade. bad memory. punta canta. tallahassee. white chicks. grimace. kissy face.

Pile 2: Pile Two, you need to retreat. I feel like you’ve been separating yourself from the crowd for a reason. You definitely need to be by yourself at this time. Take some time out for yourself and just relax. I don’t think this pile does this often, so you should take a smoke break. I saw the meme of that girl talking about conspiracy theories while smoking a blunt lmao. I also heard the word “cleansing”, so you should definitely take the time to release any past energies. Let it all go. Honestly, if you’re in a relationship, it’s time to leave it in the past. I do see that it’ll be a mutual decision so no one will really be broken hearted. Some things simply just run its course. Refrain from doing anything impulsive, it will backfire. I think that you should also spend more time with your family (chosen or biological). You tend to take them for granted & you need those moments to bond with them. Focus on setting goals for the springtime. You have a lot that you want to accomplish and it won’t get done if you don’t take action. 

Cards Used: Queen of Cups, 7 of Discs, 10 of Cups, The Moon (RX), Eight of Cups, The Fool (RX), The Lovers (RX), Ace of Discs, 7 of Cups. 

Signs: Leo, Gemini, Aries, Capricorn, Virgo. 

extras: normani. LAX. number 7. walking on water. valerie. virus. calling an 800 number. rotating dial. pleasure seeker. 

Pile 3: Pile Three, this is the perfect time to get situated. Start spring cleaning so that you can get rid of those loose ends. Do any tedious chores that you've been procrastinating on. Cut your grass. Wipe/dust your walls. Clean out your refrigerator. Another thing that you can do is write letters to your future self and hide them. I feel like this pile is wondrous and always like to plan ahead. So why not put your hopes of the future all on one page? Pile Three, you need to be comfortable with just doing nothing at times as well. I think that after all of this cleaning, you owe it to yourself to be a couch potato. You aren’t a slacker if you just sit down and crack open a bag of potato chips to watch Orange is the New Black. It just makes you human. But after all of this, you could also make an appointment with a spiritual advisor to get a spiritual cleansing or get a tarot reading from them, specifically someone who is new to you. If you do not have access to a spiritual advisor, give yourself a spiritual bath or an egg cleanse. It is best to make new connections at this time, specifically with those who have friends in higher places if you know what I mean. I channeled Dr. Facilier from The Princess and the Frog. And lastly, what you could do during spring break is implement new workout habits. This could be going to the gym, taking daily walks, finding a yoga routine, going to a pilates class, hiking or even taking a kickboxing class. Spirit wants you to not be super inactive during this break. It’s called balance. You need to learn how to not be so extreme, Pile Three. You can walk and chew bubble gum at the same time, you know? 

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Fool, The High Priestess, 10 of Discs, 4 of Cups, The Hermit (RX), 7 of Wands, The Sun. 

Signs: Aries, Capricorn, Libra, Gemini, Sagittarius. 

extras: lovely day. “pardon me.” obsession with teyana taylor. abs. long natural nails. fiber intake. dog fur. headband wig. “shawty.” spooky. virginia. love letters. less fortunate. excess. lonely spell. castaways. 

[milawritesstuff]

Acrostico Part 2

This is not the end! I have been having a hard time getting back to writing and this story has been in my drafts for weeks (if not now months) because I just don't like it? But I decided to publish half of it to see how it goes. I will see, based on your reactions to this part, what direction I take with Part 3 which will be the final part.

Part 1

... Enjoy :) ...

You could hear Rosie’s giggles in your sleep, a sound that always brought you comfort. Another voice creeped in, “Aqui esta papa.” Dad’s here. Pedri’s voice joined Rosie’s laugh.

You opened your eyes and were met with the bedroom that you had woken up countless of times in. The firs time he had told you he loved you was in this bedroom but this was also where he had broken your heart countless of times. Leave if you want to, I’m not going to be you to stay. He had said as you toyed with the idea of telling him you were pregnant months back. You were so close to telling him and letting him decide whether you stayed or not but his words solidified that you were making the right decision in keeping him out.

Next to you was an empty bed. Pedri’s scent, which intoxicated your lungs, still remained in the sheets that were now wrapped around your body. You rubbed your eyes as the crisp Barcelona air crept into the room and the events of the night before came to your mind. 

-Please stay.- Pedri pleaded. He held your hand in between his, his eyes were red and wet.

It was too late for you and Rosie to take the train back to Valencia and she had fallen asleep, in his arms non other. Pedri had let the two of you stay in his bedroom while he took the guest room where he spent the night tossing and turning trying to come to terms with the fact that he was a dad. His mind couldn’t stop racing from one thing to the next, how he would tell his family, what the media would say, how to make sure that you and Rosie never left. 

You got out of bed and put on your cardigan, making your way towards the hallway. Rosie’s giggles served as directions of where to go. When you arrived to the end of the hallway you stood there as you saw Pedri and Rosie playing peek-a-boo. Rosie had been giggling for so long that her cheeks were now tinted pink while Pedri hid behind his hands making her think he had left. “Aqui esta papa.” Pedri continued to say as Rosie laughed. 

You smiled and felt as your stomach filled with an intense warmness but at the same time you felt your throat choke up. Your eyes filled with tears. You had felt that it was unfair for Pedri to have missed out on Rosie’s life up to now, but now seeing the two together, you knew the universe had been unfair with the three of you.

Finally you took a few steps towards the pair and they both turned around to look at you. The two almost identical brown eyes fixated on you. You offered Pedri a shy smile. He opened his eyes wide and smiled back. As you took your hand and placed strands of hair behind your ear you turned to look at Rosie who was yelling out “mama!” 

Pedri turned around to look at Rosie with a smile. “Mom’s awake.” You took a few more steps towards them and bent down to put Rosie in your arms. You gave her a kiss on her forehead and she smiled while Pedri remained on the ground staring at the two of you. 

- We can go out for breakfast. Or I can make something here, whatever you want.

You stood there staring at Pedri and gave him an apologetic smile. - I think it’s time for Rosie and I to go home. I’ll call you so that you can see her. I can bring her to you.

You took a few steps back towards the bedroom when you heard his voice. 

-Please.- Pedri pleaded. - Stay. -

-We can’t Pedri. 

-Vamos, you told me it’s been difficult. 

-It has, but … I don’t want to owe you anything.

Pedri stared at you and drove his fingers through his hair. - You won’t, she's mine too.- His eyes diverted towards Rosie who was still in your arms. You looked at him and the way that the looked at Rosie. It was unbelievable how much love he had for her despite having just met her. But your mother was right, blood calls. 

-I’m sure your mom needs a rest. I’ll help you as much as I can. I’ll hire someone to help us while I’m at practice. We can do this together.- Pedri went on.

His eyes locked with yours. You stood there staring at him without any true expression on your face. He looked down at the floor and shook his head.

-I didn’t mean to say together. We can do this for her. You and I don’t have to be together together if you don’t want to. -

And the thing is that as a mother you knew Pedri was doing the right thing. Offering to do whatever it was so that Rosie had a good life, a life with him in it. But as you, as an individual, it broke your heart to hear that he was solely doing it for her. It truly didn’t matter to him whether you wanted to be with him as long as his girl was around. 

You ended up agreeing to stay. And not because you wanted to but because despite everything it was almost impossible for you to say no to him. Eventually, you thought, you would return to Valencia … after you were unable to find a job or your university didn’t allow you to transfer back to Barcelona. But that never happened.

Life became somewhat of a routine with Pedri. He hated waking up early but he did it for Rosie. They spent the first few hours of the day together, cooking breakfast and playing before he had to leave for practice. When practice was over he would rush home to put her to sleep. He seldom went out with his friends because he just wanted to be home with her, almost as if he feared she would soon be gone again.

You looked over at your phone and waited to hear Pedri walking into the door. The day had been difficult between work and school for you and you still had to read for the following day’s classes. A sight of relief left your mouth when you heard Rosie’s bedroom door open and in walked Pedri. 

-Hi. I'm sorry practice went on for a bit longer, did I make it on time?- He asked as he walked in. You smiled. 

-You made it just in time.- You said pointing over to Rosie who was on the bedroom floor with a book in her hand. - She’s been waiting for you.- 

Pedri smiled and walked over to pick up Rosie in his arms. He placed a kiss on her forehead and sat her on his lap to start reading. You stepped out of the bedroom quietly quickly walking towards the living room to look for your own books. 

You sat there for a while until you decided to take a water break. You walked into the kitchen and as you walked back out you were startled with Pedri who was walking out of Rosie’s room.

-She’s finally down.- He said with a smile. You smiled back and walked towards your books.

-She had a long day. She was a bit tired but of course had to wait for dad. -

-She has so much energy.- Pedri answered tow which you turned to look at him and laughed. Pedri stood there staring at you.

-I’m sorry … If you want to watch TV I can go and read in my room.- You said.

Pedri took a few steps towards you. - No, please stay. It reminds me of those nights you spent studying while I kept you company. - 

Pedri stood right behind you and you closed your eyes as you felt his arms go over your shoulders. For a few seconds you took in his warm touch, reminding you of the massages he would give you while you studied. Quickly you took yourself out of the trance that Pedri’s touch put you in and opened your eyes. You closed shut your book and stood up quickly.

When you turned around you were met with the warmth of Pedri's body against yours. He knew he couldn’t force you to feel what you felt before for him, for everything to be as it was before you left. He knew he had hurt you and your complete forgiveness was lightyears away. 

His eyes fixated on yours. 

-Please don’t leave.- He whispered - Finish what you have to do.-

-I can’t do this Pedri.- You responded surprising yourself. Your body against his, your hands rested on his chest allowing you to feel his heart beating a thousand miles per hour. His scent intoxicated your lungs making you lose your senses. His eyes looked down and he offered you an adorable smile. His gaze then went towards your lips which you licked instinctively.

-Do what?- He responded, but before you could say anything you felt his body get closer to you, as if that was possible. You closed your eyes and allowed his lips to wrap yours in. His kisses had the same sweet taste that they did years back. His tongue slowly began to explore your mouth and you moved your hands to caress the back of his neck. You didn’t want to let go and he didn’t want to either.

And he had not dared tried this before. He would look at you with love in his eyes but had made sure not to say anything. You had found him several times staring at you with a smile but he never said anything. He knew that one day he would be able to say it to you once again, that he loved you, but the timing wasn’t right. But that night, he didn’t care. He needed to feel you again, he needed to know if you still felt the same way.

But everything must come to an end. You felt that you needed to breathe and it was necessary to separate from him. You didn’t want to because it meant that it wouldn’t happen again. But you had to. You broke off the kiss.

He looked at you with a smile and in an instant his fingers went up to graze his lips. It was almost as if he wanted to keep the memory of your lips.

-Good night.- You said. He remained there quietly as you turned around to pick up your books.

-No, Y/N … please.-

You turned back to look at him. His hand on your arm.

-Good night, Pedri. - You said once again, this time with more power and he accepted the hint.

-Good night.-

A few days later Pedri had invited you and Rosie to a match at Camp Nou. A few months had passed and the news that Pedri was a father had caused commotion about it had now died down. 

-Let’s go wait for Papa.- You whispered to Rosie while the two of you walked through the tunnels at the end of the match. A few minutes later Pedri surprised you yelling from behind. You stopped walking and turned around to look at him. You smiled as he walked towards Rosie and you, his red cheeks never failed to amaze you. He took Rosie in his arms and walked her over to some of his teammates while you stood there.

A few seconds later a low “hey" took you out of your own thoughts. When you turned around you were met with Alex Collado’s smile. He used to be Pedri’s teammate but he now played in Elche.

-Alex! - You smiled and he took you in his arms in a soft hug. - It’s been so long-  You said to which Alex smiled. - Yeah, last time we saw each other you weren’t a mom yet.- The two of you laughed as you remembered that the last time you had seen Alex him and Pedri almost got into a fight because of you.

-Well, things changes.- You said.

-And at the end, you ended up with Pedri. He won.- Alex commented with a smirk.

-Well, not exactly.- you explained. - He’s her dad but that’s it.-

Alex looked at you with a confused look on his face. - So what does that mean? That I don’t have to ask him for permission for you to go out with me?-

TAG LIST:

@cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount @iloveyourmom17 @amour88 @footballfan3108

[heartofwritiing]

i loved your latest fic! could you do maybe contentcreator!reader and wilbur maybe going on their first date? or maybe helping her move into her new flat after permanently moving to Brighton as mentioned in your fic? tysm!

By the Sea

paring: cc!wilbur x fem!cc!reader

summary: you move to brighton, and wilbur helps you move into your new apartment. a part two to this work :)

authors note: sorry this took me soo long to get out, i hope you like it anon! i have barely any motivation to write, this was kinda thrown together. i’m not sure what to do :/

happy valentine’s day lovely followers :) 💌

warnings: not much just fluff, reader is an overthinker, short, super unedited!

Bringing up the last of the boxes up to your new apartment, you drop the box in your arms on top of another with an exasperated sigh. You were finally done climbing up three flights of stairs and could catch your breath.

You would have to remind yourself next time to find a place on the ground floor with availability, because this was insane.

You didn’t even want to imagine carrying groceries up every week now. Thank god for delivery apps…

Moving to Brighton was a plan months in the making. Countless visits to check out apartments in your price range, searching different parts of town you liked better than others took trial and error.

Eventually, you had found a perfect place not too far from your best friend Wilbur's place, who had been with you every step of the way through this whole process.

Wilbur was one of the reasons you were moving to another country in the first place. He had convinced you after your first visit last year to move in after you made a comment about wanting to move to the town by the sea after only visiting once.

Which was crazy, so you waited a year before making such a big decision. Speaking off;

You can hear grunting and panting coming from down the hall and you completely forget about your best friend who was helping you move in. Wilbur comes around the corner of the hall carrying the very last box in his lanky arms with a bead of sweat running down from his forehead.

His curls sticking to his skin showed he had worked up just as much of a sweat as you and you feel guilty making him carry some of your heavier things. He kicks your front door closed with his foot and places it on the kitchen counter with a thud.

As he makes his way to the couch, taking off his sweater you catch his shirt riding up to reveal skin before he fixes it. A blush rises to your cheeks and quickly spreads. Thankfully, he didn't notice you staring when he flops down next to you and sighs with his head thrown back against the couch cushions.

"Remind me to hire movers next time." you laugh, still out of breath.

Wilbur turns his head to you.

"You sure know how to make a guy break a sweat, darling," he hums.

A blush rises on your cheeks at the implication of his words. He laughs with a crinkle around his eyes with a mischievous grin.

You're looking forward to more moments like these with him. Butterflies flutter around your tummy knowing that you’ll have so many more.

You can't help the guilt creeping up for making him carry all these cardboard boxes with your life held inside. Thinking maybe he thought you were taking advantage of him.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this, how can I make it up to you?"

Wilbur frowns, takes your hand resting by your side, and laces your fingers together with his. You had only been here a week, but over time you visited, Wilbur had gotten bolder with his touches.

Hand-holding wasn't new to you both, since that first night you'd met in person it had become second nature after admitting your feelings. You both had become accustomed to it quickly, opting to grab the other's hand in stressful situations or just as a comfort and reassurance.

"You didn't drag me into anything, If I didn't wanna help you I wouldn't have," he promised. "You don't have to make anything up to me."

“but-“

“Nope, I won’t allow you to feel guilty over this.” Wilbur reaches his free hand up to boop your nose.

With a pout set over your lips, knowing you weren't in the mood to argue with him further. You scoot closer to him and lean your head on his shoulder to peer up at him and admire his side profile.

The shape of his nose was adorable from this angle, coming to a soft point that made you wanna kiss it.

Your gaze trailed down to the stubble around his jaw and before you even thought about it, you instinctively reached your free hand up to feel the slight scratch against your finger tips.

Wilbur didn’t swat your hand away, only turned his head so you had better access to move your nails to scratch lightly.

"But I wanna make it up to you," you say under your breath. Not sure if he heard you, your eyes met his again in question.

There’s a look in his eyes that tells you he wants to tell you what he wants. You would do anything for him. Without hesitance. Which sounded insane in your head.

Wilbur scoots down so he’s level with your face, and your suddenly so aware how close he is. Your knees touching and your hands still tangled together.

“tell you what? how about you let me take you out on a date?” he asks smoothly. “Then we’ll call it even, darling.”

You don’t know what to say. You weren’t expecting him to offer to take you on a date. A real date with your best friend. A night out together where you wouldn’t be surrounded by your other friends.

You swear you catch his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second. It would be bold of you to lean forward and kiss him right now, so you hesitate leaning forward.

Oh how you’ve wanted to since you first saw him last year, but you couldn’t. It would’ve ruined everything. If only you knew how much he wanted it too.

A date with him sounded wonderful but, you were too tired to even think about getting yourself all dressed up to go out tonight.

“how bout we order pizza, stay in and watch youtube videos for tonight.” you suggested.

“I’d say you got yourself a deal.”

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet

@loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41