#but your hearts are so much bigger than that

[savi0rr]

Darling Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Reader

In which, Viktor has a sweet wife that, weirdly enough, no one really knew about.

a/n: hi divas! Erm this is my first time writing for Viktor so I'm sorry if he sounds out of character.

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"Viktor? What is that on your finger?" Jayce inquired, suddenly appearing behind Viktor and peering curiously over his shoulder. Viktor felt a knot form in his stomach as he glanced down at his hand, where a gleaming wedding band rested snugly on his finger. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had meant to remove it but had completely forgotten in the whirlwind of his work.

"Just a ring," Viktor replied evasively, casting a quick look back at Jayce while clicking his tongue in annoyance. Jayce, however, was undeterred. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. "Isn’t that the same finger where wedding rings typically go?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Don’t tell me you actually have a wife?"

Viktor maintained his silence, his heart racing in response to Jayce’s playful interrogation. "Even if I did, I wouldn't share that information with you," he said tersely, redirecting his attention back to the Hextech gemstone in front of him, his mind racing as he tried to refocus on his work.

Jayce, still leaning casually against the desk, raised his eyebrow further, the smirk on his face beginning to fade away. He studied Viktor’s expression closely, a frown of confusion.

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“Viktor has a wife? That’s just absurd,” Mel declared, waving her hand dismissively as if to brush away the very notion. 

“No, I swear! He’s actually wearing a wedding ring. When I asked him about it, he responded with, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’” Jayce insisted, leaning closer to Mel's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface.

Mel rolled her eyes in disbelief, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands fall into her lap. “Who on Earth would marry Viktor?” she whispered, her curiosity piqued as she leaned forward slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism. “No offense, but…” she trailed off, momentarily glancing away, her thoughts clearly racing.

Jayce sighed, exasperated. “I mean, it’s not the best image, is it?” he muttered, shrugging as he contemplated the idea. His mind seemed to wander as he contemplated the strange pairing. “Plus, why do you even care?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a hint of playful challenge in her voice. “Because I want to know what she looks like!” he responded with a hint of frustration, glancing off to the side, and groaning.

Mel pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Even if he did have a wife, wouldn’t she be here at the Academia with him?” she pointed out, her curiosity beginning to overshadow her previous skepticism. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Jayce exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “It doesn’t add up!”

With a sigh, Mel straightened up, her expression turning serious. “Look, I have much bigger problems to deal with than figuring out who Viktor is married to,” she stated firmly.

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"When do you think he sees his wife?" Mel asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she peeked around the corner of the dimly lit hallway. The soft glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls of the Academia. Jayce followed her gaze, cautiously poking his head out to get a better look.

"Hmm... maybe when he isn’t buried under a mountain of work," Jayce mused, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in thought. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he swept it back with a casual motion. Mel, with an exasperated huff, rolled her eyes dramatically. 

"You should know this! You’re his partner, for crying out loud," she murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief as she crossed her arms. Jayce's expression shifted to one of sheepishness, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glanced away, avoiding her accusatory gaze.

"But I leave before him. I'm already gone by the time he usually starts his day. And when I come back to the lab, it’s always just him—working away, lost in his experiments," Jayce replied, his shoulders lifting in a shrug that conveyed both confusion and resignation. He could sense Mel's frustration, but the truth was, Viktor’s work schedule was a puzzle he had yet to solve.

Mel sighed heavily, her brow knitting together in thought. "How do you not know… never mind," she grumbled, her voice trailing off as she turned her attention back to Viktor, who was at that moment preparing to leave. 

"Shhh!" Jayce hissed urgently, his eyes widening as he quickly placed a hand over Mel's mouth, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness. They both watched in silence as Viktor slowly began to rise, gripping his crutch tightly under his arm while gathering his belongings with meticulous care. He seemed unaware of the two pairs of eyes on him, lost in his own world.

Viktor gripped his documents as he walked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. He made his way down to the back of the Academia, opening a door. Jayce and Mel looking out the window from the other story. "The hell is he doing?" Jayce muttered under his breath. "Look," Mel said, spotting you not too far in the distance. "Is that his wife?" Jayce whispered.

"Viktor." You spoke up, smiling when you saw him. You stood up from the bench you were sitting at. Viktor eagerly wobbled over to you. "I've been waiting." You teased lightly, taking the documents from his hand and placing them down on the bench. Viktor could only stare at you. He hadn't seen you in a while. But he'd never say that he missed you. "How are you doing?" You asked gently, guiding him to sit down, placing his crutch aside. "I've been...well," Viktor said plainly. "I could be better." He muttered, glancing off to the side. You nodded, sitting beside him. You glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You wore your wedding ring?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face. Viktor's cheeks warmed a bit, sighing. "I meant to take it off." He grumbled as his fingers ran over the wedding band. "I'm glad you wore it. It suits you." You giggled lightly, placing your hand over his.

Meanwhile, with Jayce and Mel, they could only stare in shock. "Of course, he has a pretty wife too!" Jayce groaned as he shook his head. "Of course," Mel muttered as she sweat drops. "Who knew she was so darling?"

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[fookinhellcurly]

So last night, one of my fave music reactors on yt dropped a reaction of Right Now live in San Siro, and it was requested by his sister whom he hadn’t really been close with especially the past few years (they were when they were younger). It was out of nowhere when she messaged him, asking if he could do 1D reactions - so of course, he did because he felt it was time.

The whole time he was speaking about Liam in his intro, his was already in the verge of tears and I could feel the pain in his eyes and voice. He’s British and he’s been following the news about Liam since it broke out. I tried to not break down AND MIND YOU, he hasn’t even started the video yet. That Right Now live is arguably one if not the most emotional live performances of 1D for me. It was the perfect song to share with this reactor because he’s not afraid of showing his emotions.

When Liam sang his first solo lines, he straight up looked into the camera while holding back his tears and said “this is my first time hearing Liam sing” and it broke my heart. Throughout the entire video, my mind kept on thinking how beautiful the crowd was in that moment, how they were on top of the world, and how we got to show them how much we loved them so deeply - that we were by their side as they fought through the hardships in reaching their dreams.

And it killed me. Because I remember when the boys were talking about the end of it all; what if their peak was THAT exact time - them in that moment, being in the band, touring with their best mates and being in the height of their careers. Liam referenced Benjamin Button and said maybe they’re meant to do it backwards. That after the glory and the fame, they’re supposed to enjoy life and have families and kids. I’m so glad Li got to become a loving father, but it wasn’t supposed to be cut short and abruptly like this.

Bear was supposed to grow up hearing more stories about his dad when he was a younger and trying to make it as a singer. How he dreamt of becoming a fireman before realizing he has a shot of becoming a star. How he got to be a part of the greatest team this world has seen, sharing the stage with 4 other simple boys who were just like him, just trying to make it, and they did more than that - they are ETCHED IN HISTORY.

And Liam, our sweet Liam, he deserved more time in this world than what he got. He was supposed to release more music he’d been working so hard for to share with us. He was supposed to have his own moment and tour just like the rest of the boys do - those same tours he supported them with. He was supposed to reunite with his best friends and share the stage with them again when the time is right. He was supposed to grow old with us, find help and peace in time so he could heal, and recover from the cruelty of the world he’d face. He was meant to be bigger than this.

And I wasn’t supposed to be writing down these heartbreaking thoughts so early in the day because it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Liam, love, I hope you know how much we love you. I hope you have finally found your peace.

It just… it wasn’t supposed to go this way. He was supposed to get the help he deserved and recover. They were supposed to eventually get back together and rob us all (happily, of course) blind of our life savings for their reunion tour tickets. I was supposed to be able to see him in person, bounding around stage, singing his harmonies and verses, doing mic flips, saying “sing it” and reading silly fan signs. He had so much more life left! He had so much more to do!

This isn’t fair! It isn’t right! This shouldn’t have happened! It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

[yuvany]

꒰ 🥊 ꒱ ENHYPEN IN THE RING

// ENHYPEN as boxers and you're their number one prize.

─── ( on point ) OT7 x female reader contains : fluff + violence mentioned + pet names + est relationship + cameras + boxing!au + non!idol enha + not proofread 887 wc

reblogs + feedback always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

Being in the boxing ring felt natural to him, but to you, it just felt as if you were praying for Heeseung to be alright every time he fought someone bigger than him. You didn't worry too much as you knew how talented he was and how he managed to beat people who mocked him for him size. Seeing someone fall to the ground never felt this relieving. You rushed up and enveloped his face in between your palms as you pressed a kiss to his lips for his victory. "Worried? For me?" He asks when you both are on your way home. "Yeah, what if you got really hurt?" You said, fidgeting with your thumbs, avoiding his gaze. "I'll be alright, yeah? I wouldn't want to worry you." Heeseung takes your hand in his.

(rest of the memebers below the cut)

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

always worried what you thought of him doing this sport. He knew the dangers of this sport, and he knew that he could get injured really badly, but something always pushed him to continue. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush. During matches, he'd always contemplate if he should quit or not after seeing other boxers bleed from their noses while being knocked out. That anxiousness quickly disperse as he sees you in the crowd, jumping and cheering his name. He puts on a smile for you. Some time later, Jay asked, "what do you think of me doing boxing?" You take a moment to think before answering, "I'm really happy that you're doing something you like, and I'll always support you." You reassure with a kiss to his cheek.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

He adores the comforting speeches you give him before each match. How they always manage to calm him down when his nerves were playing a trick on him. "baby, I'm nervous." Jake says, his hands clutching to your side, not wanting to part from your closeness while his coach is urging him to hurry up. "Why are you so stressed, Jakey? We both know how awsome you'll be. Just go and do what you love." You say, slowly walking towards the ring so that he can jump in. Jake sighs and hums at your words. "You'll be watching, right?" He asks, his puppy eyes gleaming under the bright stadium lights. "Of course." You say, patting his back before you shoo him inside.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

Sunghoon loves showing you off to everyone just as much as you love cheering him on. Post-match, you'd be the first person he'd run over to as the cameras pan over to the couple. He doesn't care about what anyone says or sees, and instead he presses his lips to your face over and over again making sure that the camera and audience does not miss his love for you. Sunghoon is a firm believer that your love is worth more than any prize he'll ever win in his boxing career. After each match he'd win, the internet would be flooded by news making headlines of you and him, which always managed to put a smile on your face.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo didn't brag about his wins, even though he had a swelling ego, he was humble. Before each match, he'd wrap his arms around you, his head snuggled against your shoulder as you pat his back, urging him to let go and get ready for the fight, "Sunsun, it's time to go now." He doesn't let go and you just sigh. "Promise me that we'll go on a date later." He compromises, and you easily agree to it, because it's a date? While in the ring, you cheer the loudest, and he hears you since you're standing in the first row, but when the match is over and he is the clear winner, he doesn't hesitate to shoot you a quick wink.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

You loved watching him combat his friends during practice, but when it was time for the competition, you were starting to feel a bit anxious - your heart beating like a drum against your chest. You whisper a soft "good luck," before he gives you a bright smile and climed into the fighting arena. You watched with dread filling you up, and all you cared for was his safety. Seeing him get hit, you jump out of your seat with your palms hovering over your agape mouth that opened due to shock. You try to reassure yourself that he'd be okay, and luckily he was. "You really gave me a scare!" You lightly hit his shoulder, and he just pulled you against his chest.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

You honestly didn't worry too much about him when he fought. Riki is a strong person, both physically and mentally. While he speaks to his coach during break time, Riki wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily as he leans his body against yours. You can hear his short breaths due to exhaustion, but you don't pull away, even though he is sweating. With a nod, there is little time left to spend and he presses a kiss to your head before he rushes back inside. When he wins, he runs over to you with a bright smile as cameras are aimed at him. One interviewer shouts, "What do you think of the prize you're winning." "What do you mean? I've got her right here!" He shouts back as he motions to you.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[revelboo]

Thank you for the Ugly Puppy (Waspinator) content!

me, about a grown-ass man who is also a giant robot bug: noooooo he's just a little guy!

Giant, scary wasp much bigger than you are just cowering if you come after him with a rolled up newspaper. Would probably act like he’s dying if you whacked him with it, too

Worker Bee Pt 3

IDW Waspinator x Reader

• Somehow you fell back asleep. You also nearly have a heart attack waking up to those sharp mandibles inches from your face, big purple optics wide open staring at you. Buzzing out a cheerful ‘small friend’ at you. Nope, not okay at all. “Has anyone ever explained personal space to you?” Gingerly reaching to try and push him off you, which is as effective as trying to push a truck sideways, he just tips his head.

• “No.” Your little hands are warm on his head and he leans into the touch. Until you groan and just cover your face with your hands. Whatever else you’re saying muffled, before you let your arms drop and just stare at the ceiling. Not time to get up yet, he decides, laying his head back down on your soft chest. And you make a strangled sound.

• “Nope, you gotta move.” Pushing at him more insistently until he makes an unhappy buzzing hiss and lifts up enough that you can squirm out of bed. And he immediately slumps in the warm spot you just left, wings fluttering. Skin pricking as how cold it is away from the heat of Waspinator sinks in, dread spills through you. Frowning, you head through the house. A table in the hall is broken, but it’s your front door that stops you short. Your door that’s torn out of the frame, wood splintered at the edges as snow lazily drifts inside the kitchen. “Are you kidding me?”

• His little friend’s nest is soft as he burrows under the blankets, only to lift his head when they’re yanked away. And oh, angry. You’re angry with Waspinator. Cringing down as you stare at him, an arm lifting to point down the hall. “There is snow in my kitchen and a big gaping hole where my door should be, Waspinator.” He hadn’t been able to figure out the tiny handle, but the door had come loose easily enough when he’d pulled. But like before, you don’t hit him. Don’t do anything but point. Upset, but not hurting him.

• “Fix,” he declares, moving out of your ruined bed and down the hall, insectile legs scraping the walls on both sides as you follow him. Hands trembling in anger. Trying to figure out how to get rid of your new, clingy bestie. Without provoking him, because he’s still big and scary strong. You tense when he folds in on himself and transforms to that other, slightly less unsettling form and watch him pick up the door and just prop it up in the frame. There’s a gap around it and it’s just leaning there, but he turns back to you. “Waspinator fixed.” And he sounds so stupidly proud of himself. Like he thinks he actually did a good job as your shoulders slump.

Previous

[rafeskai]

Starstruck | Drew Starkey

Chapter One

Summary: In the bustling crowd of a premiere event for Outer Banks, you find yourself caught up in a chaotic moment, lost in the sea of fans. Desperate for a way out, you stumble into an alley where fate leads you to an unexpected—and painful—encounter with Drew Starkey. What starts as a simple misstep soon spirals into something far more complicated, and your life takes an unexpected turn.

Pairings: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: This will be another short fic!!

The city of Los Angeles had always seemed like a dream—one that was just out of reach, filled with palm trees, bright lights, and endless possibilities. You’d seen it in the movies, heard the stories, and scrolled through enough Instagram posts to feel like you knew the place by heart. But none of that had prepared you for the reality of it all—the hum of the traffic, the overwhelming buzz of constant movement, and the sheer size of everything.

It was your first trip to LA, and you had planned to move there. To experience a new beginning, a contrast from your life back in a small town in South Carolina. Your cousin, Ava had begged you to move in with her. She moved out here a few months ago to follow her dreams, chasing her career in fashion and the hustle of the city. And as much as you’d heard about her exciting life, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. She was always the one to take the leap, to dive headfirst into new opportunities while you watched from the sidelines.

You stood at the gate of LAX, your suitcase rolling behind you, looking around at the sea of strangers and travelers. It felt like the city itself had swallowed you up already, even though you were still waiting for Ava to come pick you up. The air smelled like a mix of saltwater, car exhaust, and faint hints of perfume. Everything seemed bigger, louder, and brighter than anything you were used to.

Ava had promised to take you to some cool places—maybe even a celebrity sighting or two, if you were lucky. She’d been raving about how “amazing” LA was, how everyone was so “laid-back” but also so “serious about making things happen.” You weren’t sure what that meant exactly, but you were excited to see what her new life was all about.

Finally, your phone buzzed with a text. It was Ava.

Ava: “I’m here, babe! I’ll be by in a sec. Get ready for an adventure!”

You smiled to yourself, tucking your phone back in your pocket. Your cousin always had a way of making everything sound like it was going to be epic.

As you stepped outside the airport, you saw Ava leaning against her car, a mischievous grin on her face and sunglasses perched atop her head. She waved you over enthusiastically, her curly hair bouncing as she jumped up and down.

“There you are!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Welcome to LA, sweetheart!”

You hugged her back, letting out a small laugh at her over-the-top enthusiasm. Despite the chaos around you, her energy was contagious. It was exactly what you needed to start your adventure in this strange, exciting city. And maybe, just maybe, you’d find yourself falling for LA the way everyone else did.

Ava tossed your suitcase into the trunk and hopped into the driver’s seat, motioning for you to get in. “Alright,” she said, turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s show you what this place is really about.”

As you slid into the passenger seat and buckled up, the city sprawled out in front of you. The buildings, the people, the cars—everything was moving so fast. You couldn’t help but feel like you were on the brink of something big. This trip was going to be more than just a visit; it was going to be an experience that might change everything.

Ava shot you a grin as she pulled onto the highway. “Ready for your first adventure in LA?”

You took a deep breath, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside of you. “I think so.”

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The ride to Ava’s apartment was a whirlwind of sights and sounds. Palm trees lined the streets, swaying lazily in the breeze, their silhouettes framed against the setting sun. The cars zipped by, each one seemingly flashier than the last, and the billboards advertised everything from the latest blockbuster films to obscure yoga studios. Ava, ever the LA native-in-the-making, narrated the trip like a tour guide, pointing out landmarks and offering unsolicited advice.

“That’s Runyon Canyon,” she said, gesturing to a hill dotted with hikers. “Great for photos, but only go early in the morning. Otherwise, it’s hotter than hell.”

You nodded, your eyes wide as you took everything in. “Noted.”

“Oh, and you’ll definitely need to get used to traffic. Like, it’s not if you’ll sit in it—it’s how many hours of your life you’ll lose to it.”

The apartment complex Ava lived in was nestled in a lively neighborhood just outside of downtown. It wasn’t the most glamorous building, but it had charm, with colorful murals painted along the walls and a small courtyard with string lights hanging from the trees. As you stepped inside, dragging your suitcase behind you, Ava gave you a grand tour of her one-bedroom unit, which she’d converted into a makeshift two-bedroom by sectioning off the living room with a curtain.

“Sorry it’s not huge,” she said, flopping onto her bed as you set your suitcase down near the futon that would serve as your new sleeping spot. “But the location is killer, and it’s LA—no one actually hangs out in their apartment. We’ll be too busy living it up.”

You laughed, appreciating her enthusiasm even if you weren’t entirely sure you’d adjust to this new pace. The space itself was cozy, with mismatched furniture, a tiny kitchen, and windows that let in just enough light to make it feel inviting. Ava’s personality was everywhere—her collection of vintage magazines, her mood board filled with fabric swatches and fashion sketches, and an eclectic mix of candles and trinkets scattered on every surface.

That night, you spent hours unpacking while Ava filled you in on her plans for your first week. From trendy coffee shops to a thrift store crawl, she had your itinerary packed. But what caught your attention most was her excitement over the Outer Banks premiere.

“You have to come with me tonight,” she said, flopping onto your futon dramatically. “It’s going to be amazing. Red carpet, celebrities, the works.”

You hesitated, folding a sweater and setting it aside. “I don’t know, Ava. I just got here. Don’t you think I need a little time to settle in?”

She shook her head emphatically. “Nope. The best way to settle in is to jump in headfirst. Trust me, babe. You’ll love it. Plus, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone famous.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, but her grin was infectious. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a little intrigued. The idea of attending a real Hollywood event was daunting, but also undeniably exciting. This was LA, after all—the city of endless possibilities.

“Okay,” you said finally, earning a squeal of delight from Ava. “But you owe me coffee for a week if this goes horribly wrong.”

“Deal,” she said, leaping to her feet. “Now, let’s find you something fabulous to wear.”

As Ava rummaged through her closet, tossing dresses and accessories your way, you couldn’t help but smile. Moving to LA was already proving to be as overwhelming as you’d feared, but with Ava by your side, you were starting to believe that maybe you could handle it.

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You’d never been one for crowds, but when Ava forced convinced you to go the Outer Banks premiere in LA, you couldn’t turn it down. You weren’t a huge fan of the show, but you’d heard enough buzz to know it was a big deal. Plus, Ava had a knack for dragging you into her wild adventures, and when she’d said "Hollywood glamour," you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

The red carpet was everything you imagined and more. Flashbulbs from cameras stung your eyes as celebrities in perfectly tailored suits and dresses posed for photos. You tried to focus on the stars walking by, but it felt like the entire city was crammed into this one street, and the noise—oh, the noise—was almost too much to bear. Ava had already spotted a few friends and pulled you along, her chatter almost drowned out by the sound of hundreds of voices and music blaring from speakers.

"I need to get a selfie with Drew Starkey!" Ava shouted over the noise, practically bouncing on her feet.

You blinked. Drew Starkey? The guy who played Rafe Cameron on Outer Banks?

"Wait, wait, wait," you protested, pulling back on her arm. "I’m not ready for that—"

But she was already off, threading her way through the crowd, her phone in hand, her eyes focused on the star she was aiming for. You sighed and tried to follow, but the crowd was thickening, and before you knew it, you were separated from Ava.

You glanced around, feeling your pulse quicken as the realization hit—you were lost. People were pushing past you, and the overwhelming mass of bodies made it hard to even catch your breath. Frantically, you glanced around for some way to escape the chaos, a backdoor, a quiet corner—anything.

That’s when you spotted a narrow alleyway just off the red carpet, tucked behind a line of sleek black cars. It was quiet. It was a chance to breathe.

You weaved through the crowd, trying to stay unnoticed, hoping to find an escape route or at least somewhere to collect yourself. But as you stepped into the alley, you felt a bit of relief—until a loud bang echoed from behind you.

Before you could react, the door to a building swung open, and you stumbled backward as the metal edge caught you square in the face.

The world tilted sideways.

Everything went black for a moment, and you stumbled backward into the wall of the alley, your hands instinctively reaching up to touch your face, feeling a sharp pain shoot across your forehead. What the hell just happened?

A voice—gruff and slightly panicked—came from the direction of the door. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!”

You groaned, blinking your eyes open, your vision swimming. Standing in front of you, looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, was none other than Drew Starkey himself.

You didn’t recognize him at first. Your head was swimming, and your pulse was racing. But then his face registered, and you froze. Drew Starkey?

“I didn’t see you there,” he said, reaching out as if to help you, but then pulling back as though unsure. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t mean to… hit you. I’m really sorry.”

You couldn’t find words right away. Your vision swam, and you felt lightheaded, your hand instinctively rising to your forehead to feel the throbbing pain.

“Do you need help? I can get someone…” His voice trailed off, a soft edge of concern in it now. “Please say you’re okay.”

Somehow, you found your voice, though it came out more like a pained whisper. “I think... I think I’m okay. Just... I need a second.”

His eyes were full of worry, but he took a step back, glancing around as if searching for someone to help. The alley was dimly lit, and you weren’t sure if anyone had even noticed the accident with how chaotic the premiere still was just beyond the alley.

“Look, um, I don’t know how to make this better. But can I help you?” Drew asked, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach you.

You stared at him, trying to focus. This was Drew Starkey. The actor you’d just been thinking about. And you’d gotten hit in the face by a door he opened. You blinked again, still struggling with the fog in your head.

“I’m really not sure you can fix this,” you managed to say, but there was a hint of humor in your voice. The ridiculousness of the situation, how absurd it felt, wasn’t lost on you. Here you were, standing in a back alley with Drew Starkey, and you were definitely not looking your best.

Drew chuckled, though there was still concern in his eyes. “Okay, fair enough,” he said, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier than usual. “But seriously, let me at least get you a drink or something. I feel awful.”

You hesitated, blinking away the dizziness. There was no denying you felt a little bit starstruck, standing face-to-face with him. But there was something else in his eyes now—something soft and genuine. He wasn’t acting like the celebrity you’d imagined, with all the flashy confidence. Instead, he seemed... human. Worried. And kind.

"Alright," you said slowly, trying to steady yourself.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

 You hadn’t realized how badly you were shaking until Drew gently guided you toward a nearby door. It looked like a back entrance to the venue, a simple wooden door with a security keypad next to it. He motioned for you to go first, his hand on the small of your back as though to steady you, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart rate spike for reasons entirely unrelated to the pain in your head.

“Okay, okay,” Drew said, pushing open the door with a soft creak. “We’re going inside where it’s a little quieter. We can sit for a second while you get your bearings. Deal?”

You nodded, your brain still struggling to catch up. This was really happening—you were with Drew Starkey right now. The man Ava has been obsessing over. But now, here he was, acting more like a guy who’d accidentally banged someone’s face with a door than some famous heartthrob.

Once inside, you realized it wasn’t some ritzy celebrity lounge or hidden VIP area, but rather a backstage hallway with a few chairs scattered around and crew members rushing by, deep in conversation or adjusting equipment. The lights were dim here too, but it was at least a bit more peaceful compared to the madness outside.

Drew led you to one of the chairs by the wall and sat down across from you, though not too far. He was careful not to invade your personal space, which you appreciated. He looked genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed as he examined your face.

“Does it hurt? I mean, does it feel like it’s swelling or anything? I’m no doctor, but...” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

You winced, touching the side of your forehead again. It was definitely sore, a dull ache, but nothing that felt too serious. Yet.

“No, I think it’s just a bump. It’ll be fine,” you said, hoping you weren’t downplaying it too much. “It’s not the first time I’ve walked into a door, you know?”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s a new one for me. Usually, people walk into doors because they’re distracted or something, but... this feels a little more like a... targeted door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound shaky at first but more genuine as it left your mouth. “Well, if I’d known the door was going to open right into my face, I would've steered clear.”

He chuckled along with you, but his eyes still carried a hint of concern.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I was just trying to get out of there before the paparazzi went wild. It’s been a long night.”

You could tell he was being sincere. There was no hint of ego in his voice, nothing that would make you feel like he was brushing it off because he was a celebrity—which, honestly, you might have expected in a situation like this. But Drew didn’t seem like the type.

“I’m just glad you’re not one of those celebrities who tries to act too cool to care,” you said, then realized how that might sound. “I mean, not that I thought you would be, but you know... it’s nice not to be treated like a random fan.”

He looked at you, tilting his head slightly, his expression softening. “I get it. I mean, I don’t think we’re all that different, you know? I’m just a guy with a weird job.”

“A weird job?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his humble tone.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I mean, I get paid to pretend to be someone I’m not for a living. How weird is that?”

You smiled. “Well, you’re pretty good at it. Everyone seems to love Rafe Cameron.”

Drew laughed, but it sounded a little forced. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t know if ‘love’ is the right word though, considering the character I play...”

You nodded in understanding. It was clear he wasn’t as fond of Rafe as most fans were. “True, true,” you said. “I mean, Rafe’s not exactly the most... well, likeable guy. But he’s interesting. He’s got layers, you know? I feel like he’s the kind of character you love to hate.”

Drew’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Yeah. It’s definitely a challenge. But I’ll take it. It’s more fun playing a character who’s got that edge.”

The conversation lingered in an unexpected place of comfort, with the two of you talking like you had known each other far longer than just a few minutes. As you talked, you started to feel the fogginess in your head subside a little, your thoughts a bit clearer. You shifted in your chair, feeling a bit more steady.

"So, uh," Drew spoke up again, breaking the comfortable silence. "I feel like we should properly introduce ourselves now. I’m Drew, obviously." He grinned, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes.

You smiled, feeling a little silly that you hadn’t introduced yourself earlier, but you were still kind of in shock. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m really sorry again for hitting you in the face,” he said, still a little sheepish. "Maybe I can make it up to you somehow? Like, take you out for a drink or... I don’t know... find a way to help?"

It took you a moment to register the question, your mind racing. Was he asking you out? Or just trying to be nice?

Before you could overthink it, Drew added quickly, “Not in a weird way! Just... you know... trying to make it right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I get it. I mean, a drink sounds nice—just... no more doors, okay?”

Drew's grin widened, clearly relieved by your response. “Deal. No more doors. And I’ll make sure to keep it to something a little more... calm.”

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[cherryblessing]

📎— TO LOVE.

SATORU & SUGURU × GN!reader

—GOJO SATORU

``to be loved by you feels like stepping out after the rain, the air hushed, the sky a tender gray. your eyes, like trembling leaves, catch the droplets of a passing storm, each one a mirror— tiny worlds where i see myself reflected, always cradled in your everything.``

To be loved by Gojo Satoru feels like curling up on the couch after a long day, your head resting against his chest as the soft glow of the TV flickers across the room. The movie playing is something ridiculous—so bad it’s good—but neither of you is paying much attention.

Satoru’s laugh fills the space, bright and carefree, as he makes snarky comments about the plot, his voice dipping into exaggerated tones to mimic the absurd dialogue.

You can feel the vibration of his laughter against your cheek, a quiet reminder of just how alive he is. His arm is draped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin, and for once, there’s no urgency, no chaos, just the gentle rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body against yours.

Every so often, Satoru turns his head to look at you—not with the sharp, calculating gaze the world knows him for, but something softer, almost boyish. There’s something grounding in the way he watches you, as if you’re the only thing that matters in this moment, the only thing he wants to see.

When he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head, it’s as casual as it is tender. “You’re not even watching,” Satoru teases, his voice low and warm.

“I am,” you lie, but it doesn’t matter, because neither is he.

His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer until you can hear the steady beat of his heart. It’s a sound that feels safe, refreshing, like stepping outside after a storm and breathing in the crisp, clean air. The rest of the world falls away, leaving just the two of you in this tiny bubble of peace and silliness.

And somehow, in that simplicity, there’s everything. The way Satoru holds you, so effortlessly, makes you feel cradled in something bigger than yourself—like even in his most unguarded moments, he’s giving you a piece of infinity. His love isn’t loud or overwhelming right now; it’s in the quiet gestures, the way he doesn’t move even though his arm is probably falling asleep, the way his thumb brushes against your shoulder without him even realizing it.

To be loved by Gojo Satoru is to find that even in the most ordinary moments, he has a way of making you feel extraordinary. It’s the safety of his warmth, the way he makes you laugh, the way he looks at you like you’re the best part of his life. It’s messy, imperfect, and utterly human. And as he starts pointing out yet another ridiculous plot hole in the movie, you can’t help but smile, because being here with him feels like home.

—GETO SUGURU

``to be loved by you feels like moonlight spilling through fractured walls, its silver touch stitching shadows with light. in the stillness of midnight, your voice carries like the first bird's song, gentle but insistent— a herald of dawn, softening the horizon. the sun breaks, and i see you there, shining just as fierce, just as constant.``

To be loved by you feels like sitting under the shade of a tree after a day that’s drained all the strength from Geto Suguru’s body. The morning’s training still lingers in his every muscle, a dull ache that he would normally ignore, but today he doesn’t have to. Not with you here. The warmth of your presence takes the edge off, softening the harshness of the day in a way nothing else can.

Suguru watches as you pull out the lunch you’ve prepared for him, your hands moving with the quiet confidence he’s come to admire. The dappled sunlight filters through the leaves above, flickering across your face, and for a moment, he forgets the ache in his shoulders or the heaviness in his chest. You hand him a neatly packed box, and he takes it, your fingers brushing for the briefest moment.

The first bite is simple but satisfying, a kind of care he hasn’t allowed himself to believe he deserves.

“This is good,” Suguru murmurs, his voice quieter than he intended. There’s a fleeting vulnerability in the way he says it, his words tinged with the unspoken realization that someone took the time to do this for him.

“Really good.”

You laugh softly, and it makes him pause. The sound is gentle, cutting through the quiet like a thread of moonlight slipping through fractured walls. It doesn’t demand attention—it simply exists, constant and steady, much like you. It’s in moments like these that Suguru wonders if you realize the weight you lift from him just by being here.

“You always forget to eat properly after training,” you tease lightly, and the corner of Suguru’s mouth lifts in a rare, unguarded smile. “So I figured I’d help you out.”

“Help me out, huh?” Suguru repeats, his tone laced with faint amusement, but his gaze is soft as it rests on you. There’s a kind of peace in your presence that Suguru hasn’t found anywhere else—a quiet understanding that feels like stepping into the stillness of midnight and hearing the first bird’s song, a herald of something brighter.

As he leans back against the tree, Suguru finds himself watching you more than eating. The way your eyes light up as you talk about something small, the way the sunlight catches in your hair, the way you look at him—not with pity, but with something fierce and unshakable. You remind him of the sun breaking over the horizon, shining just as constant, just as fierce, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. But he knows he doesn’t want it to stop.

“Thank you,” Suguru says, his voice quiet but certain. The words feel heavier than they should, carrying more than just gratitude for the meal. Maybe he’s thanking you for more—for the way you soften the edges of his life, for the way you make him feel like he’s allowed to have moments like this.

To be loved by you, Suguru realizes, is to be held in a light that doesn’t waver, even when everything else feels broken. It’s constant, unrelenting, and impossibly kind. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Suguru allows himself to lean into it.

all writing, including poems are my own.

©cherryblessing.2024

[milla-frenchy]

A/N: This one is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.

Oh Ally... ngl, I'm a little scared 👀 Ok let's go!!

His black t-shirt is pulled up just slightly and his hand is what's mostly in focus, holding onto his cock that is peeking out of his flannel pajama pants. He is pulling his foreskin down tight making the head of his cock flush with color against his skin.  The shadowiness makes his happy tail look even thicker and more unruly than what you have seen.  

wtf, is your goal to make me horny before breaking my heart? Because if that's the case, congrats 😂😭

“Mmm what are you doing to me, baby girl.”

Fuck

“I’ll call you, alright?” His voice is firm, there is no room for questions.  “Alright.” You force a smile and he nods and heads to his truck. It was hard not to take that as asking you not to bother him. He wasn’t being unkind in his tone, but he wasn’t being truthful either.   You can’t shake the feeling that something is off. 

Aaaaaaah I already wanna cry 😭Ally 😭

“I never asked you for anything.” Tess utters quietly. Joel nods in agreement, silently reliving all the things he loved about her. Still loves about her. “Never had to.” Joel gives a gentle side smile. Their eyes meet. Eyes that are intimate and mourning all at once. Hopeful and nostalgic. 

Oh damn this is so beautiful

Questioning why Tess was introducing you to the man you had been fucking for the past few weeks. The man who had naked photos of you on his phone. The man you were hopelessly besotted with.  Joel’s eyes glance up at you and for the first time ever he looks sheepish. He holds his hand out standard and practical. Emotionless like it's a formal business greeting.  “Joel. Nice to meet you.” You stare, dumbfounded by his words, spoken so nonchalant.  Nice to meet me? 

Oh fuuuuuck.

Joel stares him down as he walks away and you could have easily mistaken it for jealousy. The irony of it, as your harmless flirting was nothing compared to his potential relationship with your boss. You needed answers, whether or not Joel wanted to disavow you.

Omg I love this so much!!! I just love it, when joel is emotionally unavailable, breaks our heart, but shows evidence of jealousy and possessiveness, aaaaaaah 😍😍😍

The bartender interrupts you to hand you your drink and gives Joel the side eye, no doubt noticing how prickly he was and how much your demeanor had changed from earlier.  “What are you staring at?” Joel snaps at the bartender. His intimidating tone was low but it was threatening. His misplaced anger was looking for any way to escape.  “Relax, bud.” He puts his hands up in a submissive gesture and backs off.  He glances back over to you but you look away and don’t make eye contact with him again. “She ain't’ interested.” He threatens and somehow makes himself look even bigger. The bartender nods with a knowing smile that might as well say ‘not worth the trouble’ as he grabs Joel’s empty beer bottle and moves on. He wasn’t interested enough to contest with Joel.   You hate how much it turns you on to see him get protective over you.

DEAD.

I had to quote all of it because damn that was so fucking good!!

He presses up against you, pinning you against a stack of boxes. It is reserved but still so sensual. He pushes your hair behind your ear and combs his fingers through it, smelling your sweet scent mixing with his woodsy, pine cologne. 

Fuck. I would fall for him 😭😂

And then, the song? Oh my heart... This is so good, Ally ❤️❤️

And I wonder what you got for us in the next part 😍😍

The Wolf You Feed (Part 4)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Part 4 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for complete warnings.

A/N: This one is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.

You get ready for bed and eye the flannel that you stole from Joel’s house. You hold it close to your chest and breathe in his scent that still lingers. 

You strip down to nothing but your lacy panties and don his shirt. You precariously drape it off your shoulders and look at yourself in the mirror. 

Joel would love this. 

Your hair is still damp and messy from your shower but you look clean and bright. The I’m positively smitten glow you have makes you radiate. 

You position yourself on your bed perched on your knees with your legs spread open. You adjust the shirt just right to hang over your shoulders and around your breasts, just barely covering your nipples.

With your phone positioned slightly above you, you snap a pic while making your most innocent face. Your full body is in the frame and perfectly teasing with your frumpy shirt placement. Your sluttiest black, lacey panties also help to conceal just enough to be a tease. 

You: Getting ready for bed

You attach the photo and send it. You sit back on your heels and eagerly watch for the read receipt. He is quick to reply.

Joel: Goddamn

Joel: Beautiful

A brief pause. 

Typing. Typing. Typing. 

Joel: Got any more?

Your heart skips a beat. You absolutely want to give him more. 

You: Maybe

You sit back and let the flannel shirt drape open, fully exposing your breasts and your hardened nipples. You sit more upright, and grab a fistfull of your hair and gaze up to the camera, looking a little deranged and lustful. You eye your photo before sending it, impressed with yourself. 

Sent.

Joel: Fuck

Joel: Look at them tits 

You smirk as you imagine him losing his mind and hope he is as horny as you are. You feel your heat begin to surge inside. You feel so needy for his cock.

You: Your turn

You weren’t too sure what to expect or if he would even play along but after a minute you got your answer.

The photo he sends is so poorly taken, it is endearing when you get over the disappointment of not having his dick perfectly photographed. It’s dark and grainy. You can just make out the navy blue sheets under his skin to deduce he is in his bed too. His black t-shirt is pulled up just slightly and his hand is what's mostly in focus, holding onto his cock that is peeking out of his flannel pajama pants. He is pulling his foreskin down tight making the head of his cock flush with color against his skin.  The shadowiness makes his happy tail look even thicker and more unruly than what you have seen.  

Nevertheless, it is undeniably Joel. The flutter you get inside that you only ever felt from him.

You: Joel, how naughty 

One more photo, he earned it. 

This time, you let the shirt fall off completely to your hips. You slide one of your hands into your panties and hook your thumb over the edge to pull them down. You make a “V” with your fingers and press yourself apart so your swollen clit is in full view. With your free hand you snap one last picture and send it. This one is more focused and does not show your face, but it certainly was an eyeful. You doubt he would even be looking elsewhere.

Your message is instantly read. After a moment Joels typing comes and goes until it stops completely. You wonder if he is touching himself. Hope he is touching himself. You impatiently rub your fingers against yourself while you wait, aching at the thought of him.

Your screen changes to an incoming call from Joel Miller. 

Of course you answer it as calmly as you can.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You greet him with a flirty tone.

“Mmm what are you doing to me, baby girl.” He speaks low and sounds relaxed and groggy. You wonder if you woke him up when you sent the first pic and kind of hope you did.

“Just getting ready for bed and thinking about you.”

You hear him make a breathy acknowledgement and you know he is stroking himself just by how he is breathing. You feel bolder and more daring talking to him on the phone. You can be a tease and he can’t do anything about it. 

You put it on speaker so you can have both your hands free.

“Wishing it was your fingers on me.” You lay back on your bed and slide your fingers over your clit until a moan escapes you. “Or your cock.”

“Mmm. Keep going,” he growls low. 

Even on the phone he has to be bossy. His voice cuts straight through you. Always so commanding but spoken with a warmness that makes you melt. 

You slide a finger inside your wet and needy cunt and use your other hand to tease your clit. 

“Joel…” you rasp his name low as you moan. “How hard are you right now?”

You hear him chuff quietly. 

“Bout ready to come, sweetheart.”

His shallow breathing and occasional grunt cheers you on. Your hands are so inadequate compared to his. You need to be filled by him. Want his rough hands putting friction in all the right spots.  

You fumble with your nightstand drawer for your dildo. His ears pick up on the creak of the wooden drawer opening and he stops you in your tracks. 

“No toys.” His stern voice commands. “I want you to get off with your fingers.” 

You can hear his grin on the other end.   

“... and beg for my cock.”

That wouldn’t be hard to do. You already are screaming inside for him to put you out of your misery. Your performative moans are now all too real.   

“Joel… fuck.” You whine but bring your hand back to your opening and press inside with two of your fingers while you massage your clit. 

His authoritative demands empower you. Hearing him breathing, groaning and barking orders at you makes it a lot easier to get yourself to the edge. Despite how tiny your hands are in comparison, your mind fills in all the gaps as his voice penetrates your ears. 

“I want you to fill me,” you whine.   

“Mmm. Gonna make a mess of me.” He sounds haggard. He has been holding back his own release for sure. The thought of making Joel Miller come undone over the phone is intoxicating.

You moan and your breath hitches as you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. Pleading to release.

“Joel…” You whimper. Begging. 

“Come for me, baby.” His commanding tone returns, beckoning you to do as he asks. 

“Let me hear you. Come for daddy.”

You gasp at his words. That was never something you thought you were into. It went straight to your pussy. Your walls flutter around your fingers as you replay his words in your head. You do come for him, hard, and let him hear you climaxing over the thoughts of him inside you. 

“Mmmm.” He groans low as you ride your climax high and let your desperate sounds tip him over the edge.

His labored breathing and raspy moans pick up and you know he is coming.   

He goes silent and You can just imagine him laying in his bed with his cock in his hand, pumping himself until he comes over his knuckles. Spent and sticky. 

A moment passes as you both breathe heavily catching your breath. Enjoying the moment with one another and relishing in the aftermath of your shared experience.   

“Such a good girl.” He praises. “Now, get some sleep.” 

You roll your eyes. As if sleeping was going to come easy at this point. 

“Night, sweetheart.”

“Night… daddy.” You smirk to yourself, amused and satisfied, and hang up. 

You were pretty shocked to see Joel in your driveway come the next morning. He was scraping ice off your windshield and there was a fresh tossing of salt and sand on your walkway. There was some freezing rain overnight, unbeknownst to you. 

“Hey, you really don’t have to do that for me.” You call out as you lock your door and make your way down the path. 

“I know.” He scrapes at the last bits of frost. “Still gonna.”

You brighten at the way he says it. Feminism be damned, it felt really good to have this man looking out for you.  

You were looking real cute in your Bean boots and beanie. Acting a little more timid compared to your late night activities. 

You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets and walked over to your car with a cutesy spring in your step. Joel tried to hide his disdain for your carefree jaunt down the icy path. Still, he looked so handsome in his brown suede coat and his relentless refusal to wear a winter hat. Always wielding that power to make you melt in his presence.

“Thank you.” You smile at him as you approach him at arm's length. “Still not giving you the shirt back,” you tease.

“Don’t want it back.” He holds back a smirk and quickly looks you over. Reliving last night's photos, you can imagine. You suppress a wicked smile imagining him saving them in his main album like a heathen.

He takes a step towards you and with his gloved hand he gently holds your chin and brushes his thumb over. You note the subtle way his eyes soften. His longing stare makes it feel like he isn’t going to see you for a long time, and it lingers. He drops his hand and puts it on his hip. His other hand fidgets with his leg like he is unsure what to do. 

“I’m not gonna be around for a little while” He hesitates and looks like he wants to say more and you pickup that something is off. Something he still has decided you are not privy to know about. Whatever has been bothering him the past few days is still weighing on him. “I got some stuff to take care of and I’ll be real busy.”

“Ok, Joel.” You don’t give away that you think he sounds suspicious. Guilty even. You want to press him, but you let it go, again. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.   

“I’ll call you, alright?” His voice is firm, there is no room for questions. 

“Alright.” You force a smile and he nods and heads to his truck. It was hard not to take that as asking you not to bother him. He wasn’t being unkind in his tone, but he wasn’t being truthful either.  

You can’t shake the feeling that something is off. 

You are dragging your feet at work. After your late night fun with Joel your mind was wide awake and you had trouble sleeping. 

Marlene is extra bubbly today. She is riding the Friday wave and you are grateful she takes on more of the customer facing role while you just work mindlessly making endless orders of lattes and cold brews. 

“So, do you wanna?”

“Huh?” she had been talking to you, apparently. 

“Do you want to go out tonight?” 

“Oh. Yeah, ok.”

“You sound really interested.” She says sarcastically while she stares at you and crosses her arms.

“Sorry, just tired. Yes, I’d love to.” 

“Good. Meet at Copper’s around 8? They are doing all night happy hour and open mic.”

“Sounds good.” And it does sound good. Something to do to keep yourself busy and it’s better than going home and watching Netflix by yourself. You have no idea how long Joel is going to be occupied and Marlene is the only other person you would consider a friend since moving there. It would be nice to spend some real time with her outside of work. 

“Its not the classiest place, but the crowd is good. Dress slutty and maybe we can get some free drinks.” Marlene jokes, but you have every intention to dress like a knockout and have a good time. 

When you walk in it becomes obvious you are overdressed. Many eyes were on you. You stuck out and had a lot of attention, some unwanted, but it also was flattering. Your choice of black minidress was conventionally good for a night of drinking and letting loose, but less practical once you walked through the door and saw what you were working with. 

Copper’s was just a few notches above a dive bar and significantly less upscale than the late night Boston clubs and speakeasy’s you frequented. It was mostly crawling with locals, many of which you recognized from Grind. Despite that, the energy felt good. Friendly faces lit up when they saw you and even more cast some not-so-conspicuous stares at your body when they thought you were not looking. 

The expansive bar wrapped around the back wall and there was a small stage on the wall across from it. High tops and tables filled out most of the middle with little room to do much more than sit and socialize. Get drunk off beer and cocktails and fat off appetizers and hot wings. The whole place was a little chaotic and rough but it felt cherished. It embodied that small town feel that was brought to life by the patrons. 

Marlene walks up to you with some sort of fruity cocktail in each hand. Dressed much more casually than you with a high waisted denim skirt and a low cut band tee. 

“About time you get here. Damn, girl!” She looks you up and down as she hands you the drink. “You don’t play around.” You share a laugh, and relish your new, unexpected friendship. 

The cocktail is overkill on the sweetness but the vodka hits you hard when you take a sip. 

“You didn’t tell me this place was a dive!” You tease. 

“Well it’s the only bar we have open year-round so don’t knock it.” She pretends to scold you.

“I’m joking. This is perfect.” And it was. 

You and Marlene make quick work of your drinks as you float around the bar. She introduces you to new people and you get friendlier with familiar faces. The bartender flirts with you when he learns you are new to town and you indulge in some harmless fun. 

The bar is quickly filling up and you think it must be a fire code violation at this point. You buy the second round of drinks and take a seat while you still can. Laughter and the high from your buzz set you on the right path and you are filled with gratitude for your new friendships and your new home.

[Joel POV]

Joel fiddles with his empty beer bottle, unsure what the hell he is doing. Tess should be arriving any moment now, and he is no closer to ending things with her. 

He has his guitar in tow, stowed against the wall. He perches himself in the very last seat, enjoying some solitude while the bar slowly starts to fill in. 

He raises two fingers at the bartender and signals that he is ready for another beer. The bartender returns a moment later with a fresh Budweiser.

“There he is!”

Joel spins on his bar stool to the familiar voice. 

“Hey Frank. Bill.” He nods to them as Frank slaps his back enthusiastically and sits down next to him. 

“Been a while. Tess coming too?”

“S’posed to.” Joel takes a swig of his beer and doesn't give them much of an opportunity to ask more.

Bill sits silently on the other side of Frank, orders two beers and slides one to Frank. He never was one to talk much compared to his counterpart.

“Well, we have missed you. It has been at least a month since we have seen you.” Frank turns to Bill, urging him to converse a little. They were all old friends, but Tess was the one that tended to be the glue between them. 

Bill nods in agreement. “Ain’t like it used to be. Not missing much.” Joel keeps to himself, staying mostly quiet while the other two make small talk between themselves. They know Joel well enough to recognize when he is in a mood and to give him space. 

Tess walks up to the bar shortly after and throws her arms around Frank in surprise.

“Hey Stranger!” She turns to Bill and does the same thing but he is much more reserved. She intentionally makes him uncomfortable with an embrace, making Frank laugh at his discomfort. 

Joel turns his body so his legs are back under the counter and sips his beer. The three of them chatter for a few minutes while Joel broods.

“They are going to start soon. Lets grab a table before they are all taken.” Frank was already buzzed and it made him even more eccentric.  

“I’m fine right here.” Joel declines. 

“Alright, well join us if you want to later.” Frank taps his shoulder and shuffles off towards some tables closer to the stage. Bill follows behind after giving a silent nod to Joel and Tess and lifting his beer to gesture goodbye. Poor Bill was not one for going out and socializing, but he did it for Frank. 

Tess takes Frank’s seat and hails the bartender right away. She notices it's not their regular guy and isn’t too impressed with him making her wait. A silence looms for a few moments. The air is awkward and tense. 

“Two shots of whiskey.” She requests and glances over at Joel as the bartender pulls out two shot glasses. Joel nods in agreement. 

“Wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.” Joel is the first to speak.

“Likewise.” Tess says sharply but follows up softer. “I’m glad to see you.”

The bartender finishes pouring the shots and pushes one to each of them. They knock them back.

“Look, I meant what I said.” Joel sounds like he is reassuring himself as much as her. 

“I know.” She retorts. His eyes find doubt in her words. “Jesus, Joel, I know. Can’t we just have some drinks? Don’t be such a sour puss.” 

Joel scoffs at her words. He pushes his empty shot glass away and taps near his glass when the bartender walks closer. He pours another round. Joel and Tess knock back a second shot. It isn’t nearly enough to help him deal with his issues but it does help him lighten up a little.

Tess leans against Joel's shoulder and presses her hand onto the top of his thigh. She always was a lightweight, and had no problems coming on to him. No doubt she had pre-gamed before coming out, same as Joel. 

“Why can’t it just be like this?” she traces a circle on his leg and moves her finger closer to his groin. He shifts his leg as she grazes his zipper. 

“Nothings’ ever easy with us, Tess.” Joel pauses and puts his hand over hers. Reluctantly he peels her hand away. “We don’t want the same things anymore.”

“You don’t want this anymore?” She slides her hand back over his zipper this time with more force and she feels him twitch under the denim. She strokes her fingers down his length pressing into his seam. He stifles a groan and stirs in his seat.

“Tess..” His words plead her to stop, but his body reacts to her touch as it always does. Betraying his good intentions. Their attraction for one another was never in question. It just made things a whole lot more complicated. It was hard for him to resist her advances, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. She wasn’t exactly cooperating with his poor attempts to resist either. 

“‘Course I do.” He looks at her, wantonly and holds her gaze. He pauses and chooses his words carefully. “But it’s not enough.”

She was observant of his reaction, calculating what sort of leverage she had left with Joel. She could see his genuine anguish and was reminded too well of the circumstances that brought them together in the first place. She never said it in all those years, not once, but she did love him. 

“We can make it work… we always do.” Tess tries to reason with him, but she has defeat in her voice. 

“It’s too late for us, Tess.” Joel reaches a hand out to the side of her face and gently holds her. She removes her hand from his lap and wraps around his forearm and covers his hand with her own, leaning into his touch. The moment is intimate and despite a room full of people it felt like they were the only two. The unspoken love between them was always there as a thread to keep them together. This was not ending because the love was gone, it was ending because it had no more room to grow.  

He could see that she was finally accepting what he was saying. At least she was trying to. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and reassured her with his touch that his feelings for her were not lost, but he was not going to give into them anymore. 

“I need a clear mind.” He locks eyes with her as he takes his hand back. “I’m playing tonight.”

“You are?” She pulls away, surprised and easily distracted with the subject change. She looks down and eyes Joel’s guitar case leaning against the bar. “Singing too?” Joel nods. This feels familiar and comforting. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tess’ smile fades and expression softens, filled with sadness. A realization that they had moved away so far from where they used to be. A silent moment lurks but it is not unwanted. It gives them both time to think. 

“I never asked you for anything.” Tess utters quietly. Joel nods in agreement, silently reliving all the things he loved about her. Still loves about her.

“Never had to.” Joel gives a gentle side smile. Their eyes meet. Eyes that are intimate and mourning all at once. Hopeful and nostalgic. 

He was always going to love Tess. 

She stands to interrupt the silence and reaches for his hand to follow. 

“Lets find Bill and Frank. I wanna sit with them while you play.”

“Alright.”

Joel leaves his guitar at the bar and follows close behind her. The room is getting more and more crowded by the minute. The first act is wrapping up and switching over to another singer. The bar is alive with excitement. 

Following Tess into the crowd his heart drops. There you are, just a few tables in front of him, sitting at a hightop with Marlene. Dressed incredibly sexy with your short dress and your cropped leather jacket. Knee high boots and your hair flowy and free. He wished he could take you right there and have his way with you.  

You looked so happy. So unaware of what was about to happen. Innocent and at peace.

Tess grabs his arm and pulls him towards your table, excited to see you and Marlene and she makes a beeline to say hello. 

You shouldn’t be here. His brain screams and his heart races. His chest gets heavy and tight as he inches closer to your table, unable to stop the encounter. It was too late. You had already noticed him approaching when Tess called your name and you saw him in tow.

He should have told you from the start, but he didn’t. Even if nothing had happened with Tess since he started falling for you he was well aware how this was going to look.

He was finally making some progress with Tess and couldn’t risk that getting ruined. At your expense, too. There was no other way. 

And he knew right at that moment he was the biggest asshole in the world.

[Reader POV]

You turn your head as you hear your name being called out. You see Tess first and just towering behind her is Joel. It was impossible to miss him with his broad shoulders and brooding scowl. For a brief moment, you light up to see him when your eyes catch his.

He was a sight to behold. Wearing a button up navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his tight forearms. Jeans hugging his body and perfectly accenting his burly frame. His hair was also slicked back and styled like he gelled it fresh out of the shower. The moody lighting masking his silver streaks more than usual. He looked absolutely delicious and it made you ache for him all over again. You had just put him out of your mind too. It didn’t take much to stir up those feelings again when your desire for him was relentless and insatiable. Your heart races, fueled by your longing. 

Until you realize they are together. 

A wave of dread washes over you. Joel immediately looks away from you in a panic, confirming your fear that something is wrong. He won’t look at you but you can’t take your eyes off of him and ignore everything else around you.

“This is my new star employee. She’s wonderful.” Tess lights up talking about you and playfully bumps into your shoulder. She is babbling on but you have no idea what she is saying because you aren't listening to her anymore. Too preoccupied with figuring out what was happening. Questioning why Tess was introducing you to the man you had been fucking for the past few weeks. The man who had naked photos of you on his phone. The man you were hopelessly besotted with. 

Joel’s eyes glance up at you and for the first time ever he looks sheepish. He holds his hand out standard and practical. Emotionless like it's a formal business greeting. 

“Joel. Nice to meet you.” You stare, dumbfounded by his words, spoken so nonchalant. 

Nice to meet me? 

He holds his hand out firmly, waiting for you to take it. His eyes plead with you to go along with it. You lightly grasp his hand. His fingertips drag tenderly as he pulls it away, as if they were apologizing. You say nothing but force a pathetic half-smile. 

Tess clearly having one too many drinks hangs off of his shoulder and bumps into his hips. You try to hide the confusion and disgust on your face. Joel refuses to look at you again after your introduction.   

He doesn’t reciprocate her energy at all. He looks like a lost dog. Uncomfortable and out of place. She seems oblivious to it, but you are dead focused on reading him to get some answers while she carries on talking. He is a stone wall, giving you nothing.  

Marlene says something in response and the two of them laugh but you can’t hear anything but muddled voices over the loudness of your thoughts. 

Joel nods at whatever she says but is silent. He looks so distant like he wants to shrink away. Guilty and cowardly. 

Every piece of your being wants to scream. What is going on? You don’t want to assume anything. Maybe they are friends and you are overreacting.  But then why wouldn’t he have said something sooner? Why did he pretend not to know you? Why won’t he even look at you? The questions keep piling up and your stomach is in knots.

“Come on, Joel.”  She hooks her hand around his arm to pull him along. You’ve never seen him act so submissive. “See you girls later.” 

As he brushes past you he catches your arm when no one is looking and he gives you the softest brush with the back of his hand. He tries to be inconspicuous and whispers in your ear as he passes.

“I’m so sorry.” His words stab you. They sound sincere and painful but offer no comfort or answers. 

As Joel and Tess disappear into the crowded room of people, Marlene is quick to notice you are in your head but brushes it off as being a little drunk. 

“God they are annoying.” Marlene shakes her head and takes a sip of her drink. You hear her talking, but still not really listening. You are preoccupied watching Tess take a seat a few tables away and see Joel make some brief small talk and wander off in the direction of the bar. 

They didn’t look romantic, at least not from his angle. Are you just overreacting? The alcohol is probably just making you paranoid. You hate how insecure he makes you feel. The reality is that the more time you spend with him the harder it is to be apart. He was unlike any man you had ever been with on so many levels. He made you feel so needy for his attention, and jealous that he was with Tess in some capacity, instead of you. You feel foolish. 

A singer briefly performs a song and the room gets loud again as voices rise between sets. You are silent and disassociating with everything around you, unsure if it's the buzz from the alcohol or your serotonin working overtime to calm you down. 

“You ok?” Marlene asks.

“Yeah…”

Marlene prys. “You don’t look ok.”

It was obvious from that awkward moment earlier that she knew Joel. You wanted to spill and tell her everything and pick her brain, but your suspicions made you question where her loyalties may lie. You had never told her who your neighbor was and now you felt trapped and alone with this secret.

“I just need another drink.” You laugh and play it off coolly. “Gonna grab one at the bar, be right back.”

As you walk to the back of the room you take note of Tess still sitting at the table and talking to a few guys. It looks like they are familiar and catching up. Joel is standing at the crowded bar at the very end, mostly tucked away and probably how you missed seeing him sooner because you weren't looking for him. Against your better judgment you approach him.

You squeeze into the space next to him and try to keep a little distance from him, but your bare thigh rubs up against his leg as you step in and the person to your left pushes into you. He stays facing straight ahead and doesn’t acknowledge you, except to move his leg from its wide posture. His scowl works overtime to keep his composure. He takes a sip of his beer.

You hail the familiar bartender with your empty glass. He winks and goes to make you another. Drink three and he already has your order memorized and was probably hoping to get your number.  

Joel stares him down as he walks away and you could have easily mistaken it for jealousy. The irony of it, as your harmless flirting was nothing compared to his potential relationship with your boss. You needed answers, whether or not Joel wanted to disavow you.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?” Your voice is a little shaky, wavering through your anger and confusion. 

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods, still staring off ahead. 

You pause, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Your eyes bore into him and his ignoring you is making you fume more and more. You try to read him, and see the subtle changes as he gets more and more frustrated that you are not getting the hint to leave him alone. 

“So… explain?” You push his chest, try to pry the information out of him. His jaw tenses. Glowering and annoyed. His calm facade being chiseled away by your incessant need for answers. 

Joel looks at you with cold eyes. Sad eyes. Eyes you do not recognize. He recoils at your touch. Makes you feel like a dirty secret. He tips back his beer and downs the rest of the bottle. 

“Can you please fucking say something?” You beg. You are annoyed at how he is acting. He was clearly frustrated by your being there and that anger was festering by the minute. 

“This isn’t the time.” He says unphased by your request.

The bartender interrupts you to hand you your drink and gives Joel the side eye, no doubt noticing how prickly he was and how much your demeanor had changed from earlier. 

“What are you staring at?” Joel snaps at the bartender. His intimidating tone was low but it was threatening. His misplaced anger was looking for any way to escape. 

“Relax, bud.” He puts his hands up in a submissive gesture and backs off.  He glances back over to you but you look away and don’t make eye contact with him again.

“She ain't’ interested.” He threatens and somehow makes himself look even bigger. The bartender nods with a knowing smile that might as well say ‘not worth the trouble’ as he grabs Joel’s empty beer bottle and moves on. He wasn’t interested enough to contest with Joel.  

You hate how much it turns you on to see him get protective over you. His mixed signals were giving you whiplash. You suspect and even hope that his lashing out and acting this way is just a tactic to get you to leave the matter alone for now. It wasn’t going to work with you though. You were not afraid of him or intimidated.    

His fingers curl over the counter and he flexes them, agitated. He taps his fingers in a rolling motion and pushes himself away from the bar with the heel of his hand. 

“You should go home.” His words hurt and are spoken with finality through dark eyes that penetrate you. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

“No.” Your brows furrow at the audacity. “I want to talk now.” You demand. 

Joel ignores you and pushes past you to get to the back hallway. He makes you feel insignificant and like you are just an obstacle in his path to walk around. It makes you even more angry.

You tip back the bulk of your drink dangerously fast and follow him. There were so many people, no one was really paying attention to you and Joel, so why was he acting like this?  

You stumble down the corridor to the bathrooms, instantly regretting your choices to drink so recklessly. It makes you feel gross and desperate that you have to chase him someplace so dark and secluded.

With his back to you he balls his hand into a fist and knocks on one of the bathroom doors with enough force to startle anyone in earshot. Someone inside yells that they need a minute. 

He puts a hand on his hip and the other drags down his face as he paces and turns towards you. He knew you would follow. He fans his hand out in your direction, pleading with you to let this go. 

“I said later.” His words sound tired from your persistence. He looks you up and down and you see something else in his eyes. Behind the anger, the hunger for you is still there.

“Joel.” Your anger starts to cool when you see how agitated he is. Afraid that you are just making everything worse. Maybe you should just leave this alone until later. You could be making a scene over nothing. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he speaks slowly and deliberately, trying to keep himself calm. You try to hold it back but you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. Impatiently he bangs on the door again and an angry yell returns, calling him an impatient prick. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” You are not sure why you are the one defending yourself here. You feel the room spinning and reach to brace yourself on the wall before you stumble. The alcohol and the adrenaline of being afraid to lose Joel was just becoming too much.  

Joel reaches out to you and grabs your wrist to steady you. He leads you a bit further down the hall, and just at the end is a small and dark alcove with storage boxes. You can still hear the loudness of Copper’s echoing through the hallway but at least it feels more private. Trashy, but discrete. 

You back yourself against the wall, feeling overwhelmed by everything and your anger vanishing into nothing but hurt. Joel stands across from you with his arms crossed. He takes a deep breath.

“Listen. This ain’t got anything to do with you. Ok?” Now is your turn to respond with silence. You have a thousand questions but no words manage to come out, instead a tear drops down your face. You wipe it away quickly but he already noticed it.

“Sweetheart.” He closes the gap between you and holds your face in his hand, wiping his thumb over the wet trail on your cheek. You look up at him with glossy eyes and he looks pained to see you so upset. “Please don’t.”

You feel foolish crying given the real probability of infidelity. Still, you lean into his touch, craving the contact with him that he had been denying you. Soaking in his warmth and pushing the negative thoughts as far away as possible.   

He presses up against you, pinning you against a stack of boxes. It is reserved but still so sensual. He pushes your hair behind your ear and combs his fingers through it, smelling your sweet scent mixing with his woodsy, pine cologne. 

The heat from his cock feels so good against you, and you can feel him harden slightly when you push your hips into him. Even through tears your body can’t say no to Joel. His body towers over you and makes you feel calmer being in his clutches.    

He sneaks a hand up the side of your leg and slips it under your dress. You feel his breath hot on your neck as he kisses you there. His scruff scrapes against the soft meat of your neck and makes you come undone. He presses his mouth into you, hedonic and greedy. 

His thumb slides under the thin straps of your panties and he draws circles on your hip bone, dancing dangerously closer to your center. He doesn’t cross the threshold, and with restraint he slides his hand around to your hip over the top of your dress. He presses his forehead into yours and holds you there for a brief moment, relishing having you in his grasp.

As soon as the heated moment starts it fades and Joel takes a step back, holding you at arms length. With a desperation in his eyes, he speaks.    

“Go home.” His words hurt. “Please. Go home.”

He turns and leaves you alone in the hallway, disappearing into the crowd. Discarding you like an unwanted problem. A mistake. Something to acknowledge only in the dark. 

You feel absolutely blindsided and used and you don’t even know what is going on. You slide your back down the wall and curl your arms around your knees, hugging yourself. You have never felt more alone and abandoned. You hold yourself harder to keep back the tears.

Moments later you hear footsteps and a familiar voice rattles you back to earth. It’s Marlene, knocking on one of the bathroom doors asking if you are inside. You regain your composure and bring yourself to your feet and walk sheepishly towards her from the alcove. You adjust your dress and hair, both a little disrupted by Joel. 

“There you are! Is everything ok? I’ve been looking for you.” You turn to face her and do your best to look composed and calm. 

“Yeah I was just feeling my drink and had to get away for a minute.” You are a terrible liar.

“Uh huh...” She reaches her hand out and wipes some black makeup that still lingered on your cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re crying about that guy you’ve been seeing?” She tries to guess what could have you so upset. You fake a laugh and try to throw her off. She notices your messy hair. “Or did you makeout with that bartender that was hitting on you?” she asks excitedly.

“Nothing like that. I’m fine. Really.” You say with confidence but she is still skeptical. You take a few steps down the hallway. The words Joel begged of you before leaving you replay over and over.    

“Hey, do you… know that guy?” You struggle to get his name out. “Joel?” She looks at you puzzled. Inquisitive. Amused at your question. 

“Everyone knows Joel Miller.” She stares at you, her expression trying to hide some judgment but can’t resist. “Why?”

You don’t answer and just stare off blankly. You feel like a total idiot. A used trollop. She tries to read between the lines, assuming your drunk ass is crushing on him.

“Don’t get involved with Joel.” She warns and hooks her arm in yours and leads you back to the main room. 

Your table had been scarfed up which was no surprise. There were so many people.

You are floating between being too drunk and carefree and on the verge of a mental breakdown. For now, the alcohol was keeping you afloat. This wasn’t the time or place to deal with whatever was going on with Joel and you were not in the right frame of mind to handle it. 

You made up your mind. You were going to stay and try to salvage what was left of your night. You would stay clear of Joel. Why should he get to tell you what to do? You lose your footing and stumble but Marlene balances you.

“Ok… you need to drink water.” She mothers you and takes you by the shoulders to lead you back to the bar.

“Yes, mom.” You muster up a joke and take a deep breath.

Another half hour passes. You don’t see Joel but you don’t look for him either. You don’t want to see him or want him to see you. The water helps sober you up just slightly. The music is loud but soothing as it occupies your headspace. The current act was a man and woman duo singing something moody and playing guitar. They played a few songs and then the MC shared that they had just one more performer for tonight. 

You lazily look at your phone and it’s so much later than you realized. You turn to ask Marlene if she is ready to go when you see him, walking towards the stage with a guitar slung on his back. Joel was the final performer? You watched him walk up to the stage with disbelief. He wanted you to go home so you wouldn’t see this? It felt forbidden to look and of course you needed to.  

You had no idea he was the musical type. Realizing now you didn’t know much about him at all, apparently. The thought of that makes you feel sick. 

You feel numb to everything around you. Maybe it was all just a bad dream. It had to be.

He takes his seat on a stool in front of the mic, propping up his guitar on his lap and strums a few chords. The audience is awakened. You hear people mumbling to their friends that they can’t believe Joel is playing again. 

Apparently everyone but you. 

You want to be angry. Upset that he was so deceptive to you and kept his life so secret. Dismissive about your desire to understand.   

Your body betrays you, fluttering at the sight of him. The room is darkened and the light shining on him makes him look even more gorgeous, casting harsh shadows that accent his tight body. His silver streaks in his slicked hair catching the light and his broad frame defined perfectly in his well fitting shirt. His watch reflects the light as he positions his hand to cradle the neck of his guitar. His forearm flexes as he guides his hand over the strings. It makes you wet.   

“This one’s…. for Tess.” 

Your heart stops. 

His voice wavers as he looks down to his guitar, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The room is deadly silent. He has everyone’s attention. You are certain your heartbeat is the loudest thing as you are filled with panic. 

Did you hear that right? 

He strums his guitar and a low and gravelly voice follows. 

Love will abide

Take things in stride

He said… Tess?  

Sounds like good advice

But there's no one at my side

You feel a pit in your stomach.

And time washes clean

Love's wounds unseen

He said Tess.  

That's what someone told me

But I don't know what it means

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

The profound sadness in his voice hurts. It cuts you like a knife. His guttural but steady low singing moves you. You would never, but it makes you want to run up to him and hold him.  

And I think I'm gonna love you

For a long, long time

You hate this. Being in this moment, trapped. It felt like listening to a private conversation. Still, you can’t look away.  

Caught in my fears

Blinking back the tears

I can't say you hurt me

When you never let me near

The sharpness in his tone is notable and you see him clench his teeth at those words.  

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

The pit in your stomach grows as your fears are being realized before your eyes. 

And I think it's going to hurt me

For a long, long time

Joel was in love with her. 

Wait for the day

You'll go away

Knowing that you warned me

Of the price I'd have to pay

You look over to where Tess was sitting earlier. She looks hurt and fragile, masked by anger. Not like anything you had seen before. You pity her. You pity yourself. 

And life's full of flaws

Who knows the cause?

Living in the memory

Of a love that never was

Joel is hurting. Whatever their relationship was, he certainly wanted it to be different. 

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and change your mind

And you are just a toy for him to play with. You need to leave. You need to be anywhere but right here. 

And I think I'm going to miss you

For a long, long time

Suddenly the room is spinning. You are going to be sick. The alcohol and anxiety inside you mix together and you feel like you can’t breathe. 

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you

Joel looks up and his eyes accidentally find yours for the briefest moment. An unintentional stare. He looks away and down at his guitar, no doubt outraged that you didn’t go home. That you saw him spill his heart and soul out to another woman. 

For a long, long time.

Angry that you caught him cheating. The only truth you know. 

The loudest silence follows as he strums the last chord. Then, the room erupts in applause and many people stand up to clap and cheer. Even the drunkest person could have watched that performance and felt his pain. You suspected few people realized it was so good because it was so honest.  

Marlene looks over at you and can clearly see how ghostly and unwell you look. You shake your head and try to hold back the flood of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Can we… can we go? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” Marlene puts an arm around you and helps you up. The tears start falling and you can’t stop it. You can’t hold back the flood of sobs and emotion leaving your body.  

“Whoa… Whats wrong?” She puts her hand on your cheek and tries in vain to wipe the tears away. Looking extremely concerned and no doubt piecing things together.

You can’t even think properly. You gasp at the air to save you.   

“I just need to get out of here.”

You glance up to the stage and Joel has already left it. Probably going to his lover or whatever the fuck that was all about. That sickness feeling surges back. You want to throw up. You want to disappear and erase every moment you had with Joel.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡

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[kkayyerr]

Not me checking everyday to see if you posted, im obsessed with your stories!

can i request Reader throwing a tantrum, and lke, i think in the regular being Rafe's girl it's a pretty toxic dynamic, and he is often rough with her, yanks her and stuff, just being not too soft and gentle with his touches when he's in a bad mood, a slight bad mood even.

And you know, childs usually pick up habits from adults, so when she regresses and she throws the tantrum she is like agressive with rafe like trying to push him or hit him and let's say its the first and only time that happens!:3 thats my scenario you can mold it however you want

Tough Love.

Summary: Rafe had always been tough with little!reader, but he got very surprised when he found out that his little girl is just as feisty as he is.

Warnings: Age regression, Dark!Rafe, non-sexual spanking, slight angst, unhealthy relationship. All SFW!!!

Author’s note: Thank you so much for your sweet words, I hope you’ll like this one!🫶🏻🥹

Rafe was very unpredictable the last couple of weeks. One day he could’ve spoil you, and the next day the only emotion that he would show towards you was anger. His touches became rough, somehow violent, even though he didn’t actually hit you or abuse you in any way. It was just who he was. He had never been very gentle. You knew him for a long time now, and you knew what you were getting yourself into by starting the relationship with him. What you didn’t know is that you would feel so small and overpowered by him all the time. Most of the time you felt weak. You knew that being with him was stressful for you because of his establishment. Rafe also seemed very tensed and anxious almost every day.

You started regressing more often, trying to hide from those thoughts and feelings, but they had only grown bigger. 

It was a peaceful evening for you and Rafe, until you felt the urge to throw a tantrum out of nowhere. Of course it wasn’t out of nowhere; you were just tired of everything and severely overwhelmed. You needed to let those feelings out by crying and screaming, but Rafe didn’t know that. Your tantrum was just another irritating thing for him that he needed to stop before it would make him freak out. 

 

„Baby, calm down.”

 

He said, approaching you, when you suddenly did what he wasn’t expecting you to do. 

You hit him. 

You slapped his face with the full force. 

He just wanted to lean closer to you, so you would feel more grounded and comfortable, but you might’ve feel comfortable enough if you decided that you had a right to lay your little hand on him. He was surprised by your audacity. After everything he had put up with, he got a fucking handprint on his face?

Rafe’s eyes immediately darkened, and the loving look disappeared completely. He was pissed. However, he didn’t hit you back. He didn’t shove or push you. He just went straight to the couch and set down, patting his lap and looking at you. 

 

„Over my knee.”

 

Your skin immediately covered in shivers. He had never used psychical punishments before, especially not spanking. The room was silent; you could only hear how fast your own heart beats. You were terrified of Rafe right now. Somehow that empty look on his face was much scarier than the anger that you got used to. You didn’t want him to hurt you, but he would either way, so you just made your way to the couch, carefully laying down on his lap.

You were scared, and the fact that you were regressed right now was only making the whole situation worse. Much worse.

Rafe’s hands landed on your back, and he caressed you a little bit in the soothing manner before giving you the first slap with his other hand.

 

„I hope you understand that Daddy don’t like punishing you, little one.”

 

The second slap was louder than the first one and felt just as painful. But this time pain mixed with the feeling of guilt. It was your fault; you shouldn’t have slapped him and shouldn’t have given him a reason to punish you. You wanted to be his good little girl after all. 

 

„Why did you hit Daddy, hm?”

 

You felt tears falling from your eyes when he hit you once again. You covered your mouth with your little hand to muffle sniffling and crying sounds. Rafe had hold his laughter back, so he won’t be called a „meanie” later. It was cute how hard you were trying to keep on the strong girl act, even though he knew that it was all just a facade. You were way too vulnerable to be called strong. 

 

„C’mon, answer me.”

 

Rafe said, giving you a last slap. He then immediately helped you sit, pulling you closer while you were on his lap, even though he knew that sitting might’ve been a little difficult for you right now. He gently took your hand away from your mouth, and you let out a couple of loud sobs, before finally answering.

 

„Wanted to feel stwong and big like you!”

 

Those words sounded funny because of your high-pitched childish voice, that was also still trembling from the crying. You didn’t sound like someone who is strong and big, especially not after you just got spanked. Rafe smiled softly; he almost felt sorry for you. How could someone be so stupid and so cute at the same time? 

 

„But strong girls don’t need daddies. Do you want me to leave?”

 

Of course you didn’t want him too. You knew that you simply wouldn’t survive without him. You needed your Daddy, no matter how difficult it was to stick around him lately. You remember him also being there when it was hard to stick around you. 

You shook your head, quickly hugging his neck, so that way he wouldn’t leave you or disappear. His calm breathing relaxed you. He was there, close to you, and he wasn’t mad. 

It was strange to admit, but it was the first time in the last couple of weeks when both of you were calm and happy.

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[gilverrwrites]

I’m so obsessed with Perv!Dick as if I wouldn’t end up incredibly depressed in that scenario, butttttt

Dick bringing Roy over to have fun with you, telling you that Tim is into threesomes and you shouldn’t worry now because Roy isn’t nearly as intense as Kon (Tim’s threesome partner of choice) while he’s backing you up until your back hits Roy’s chest, caging you between the two men? Is this something?

IT’S SOMETHING! Anon, this ask shut off my brain for like 8 hours straight and then a bunch of other times intermittently whenever I thought about it. Oh to be sandwiched between Dick and Roy, I would die happy. Here is the most cohesive response I would muster with the stray pieces of thoughts I could pluck from rattling around my brain. Good work anon 💖 Warnings: Perv!Dick, F/M/M, coercion, manipulation, Dick being possessive ━ [Part 1] ━ [Part 2]

Dick knows he’s pushing his luck; his heart feels heavy with guilt as he watches you pick at the beds of your nails.

“I don’t know, Dick.” You’ve had this look on your face, like a kicked puppy, all big wet eyes and pouty lips since you’d opened the door to find not one, but two pairs of eyes staring back at you. He feels bad, but more than that he wants to fuck the pitiful expression right off your face. “I’ve been thinking maybe I should save some firsts for Tim.”

“I get that, you’re right.” Dick agrees purely for the sake of giving you some perceived agency back, ignoring the way Roy crosses his arms and quirks a brow from behind you. That’s another part of it, proving to Roy that he really does have you wrapped around his finger after bragging about you incessantly. “If you would rather your first threesome be with Tim and Kon, I totally understand.”

“K-Kon?” You stutter, eyes growing even bigger at the sound of his name.

Dick knows you’ve met Kon exactly once before at a birthday gathering for Tim and that it hadn’t been the best experience for you. Kon rarely has bad intentions, he’s just a little rough around the edges. You’d incidentally gotten in his way on the dance floor at some point, and it had resulted in some pretty nasty, but entirely accidental bruising and Kon hadn't really been given the chance to apologise, which he absolutely would have, if Dick hadn't swept you off the dance floor so he could 'tend' to you before Tim or Kon could get a look in.

“Oh, that's right, those two are tight.” Roy clues in on the play and you swing around to watch as he goes on. “Good guy, bit much though. Doesn’t know his own strength. I once watched hi- Ah, you… don’t wanna hear this, hon.”

“No…” You’re looking at Roy with that same innocently curious look you’d given Dick the first time he’s sunk his fingers into your tight little pussy. Roy’s chest immediately starts to puff up, his freckled skin turning reddish with arousal as he throws Dick a glance that says ‘wow!’. “I think I do.”

“Really you don’t.” Dick tells you and you turn to face him again, stepping back when you realise how close he’d gotten while your back was turned. You raise your hands unconsciously and Dick takes them in his own, tenderly pressing your palms to his chest, to his heart, really amping up the soft, understanding 'brother-in-law' angle as he goes on. “If you want to wait for Tim and Kon to tag team you, that’s totally your prerogative, but the offer is on the table.”

You’ve also only met Roy once more before tonight. He had this easy sort of confidence with the ladies. Before Dick has purposely interrupted, selfishly wanting you all to himself, Roy had offered you a charmingly mellow smile that has intrigued you. Before he'd even introduced himself, he had a hand on the small of your back, strong fingers massaging your skin in much the same way he does now.

You hadn't even noticed how Dick had been herding you toward your guest until your back was pressed against Roy’s solid chest. Roy’s hands tread ever so carefully around your hips, creeping under your shirt, the tips of his fingers are hard and warm against your skin. He leans into your shoulder until his stubble scratches at your neck and his voice reverberates down your spine as he talks directly into your ear. “We can be real gentle with you.”

They won’t be gentle. They’ll start off slow and calm. Roy kissing your neck, stroking your hair, whispering sweet words to you while Dick warms you up. Getting you off and stretching you out on his fingers, just like he’s done countless times before. He’s got your pretty pussy memorised and he’s gonna make sure you’re wet and ready to take them both.

But once your lips are around Roy’s cock and Dick is balls deep inside you, all bets are off.  

"Fuck- You suck it like a pro, doll."

"Who taught you that, baby?"

Even if your mouth weren't to full, you're to cock drunk to interject when they converse about how good your pussy feels, or how well you take it while they pile into you from both ends.

You're nervous about loosing your anal virginity, but between that and taking them both in your cunt, you'd much rather let Dick put it in your ass, and he coos in your ear the whole time about how you're such a good girl, you're doing such a good job, making them both feel so good.

But when Roy applauds how tight your pussy is when he starts stretching it out in places Dick's cock couldn't reach; Dick tells him to pull your hair, cause he knows how it makes your walls clench and your eyes roll back.

It's overwhelming, four big strong hands groping and caressing you incessantly. The sick, wet sound of skin slapping echos through the room. The scent of sex and musk fills your nose. You can't look away from them both at the same time, and whenever you close your eyes Dick pries them open again or slaps your buttcheeks until you get the point. He can't stand not getting the full picture, he loves how expressive your eyes are.

When it's over Roy gives you his number. "In case you ever wanna trade Tim in for 'an upgrade'."

Dick smacks him across the back of the head.

[plethorawrites]

How many kids do they want? How many do they actually end up with?

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Dick: Wants 3, ends up with 5. This man wants kids. Maybe not a houseful of them, but that's only because he wants to be able to devote himself entirely to all three and you while still being able to be Nightwing. When the first baby arrives, he's overjoyed, and the second and third, his excitement grows until his heart feels so full he doesn't comprehend how it's possible. Then you get pregnant a fourth time. By accident, of course. You had stopped trying at that point, both content with three. But Dick wasn't upset even for a second when you told him. Shocked? Yes. Disappointed? Never. Then, along came number five, and he knew you absolutely had to buy a bigger house. Which he was fine with. Coming home each day to the sound of laughter and getting to see five mini versions of you and him running around made him happier than he thought possible. Better than his dreams. He still made an appointment to make sure number six never happened. For your sake. Because as much as he loves you and knows you love kids, there was no way he was putting your body through another pregnancy.

---

Jason: Wants 0, ends up with 4. He's absolutely against it. He likes kids, as long as they're not his. There's too much darkness in this world, too many threats. Hell, too many people. Then he met you and he started doing things he swore he'd never do, like move in with you, propose to you, marry you. You knew his stance on kids and you agreed. But mistakes happen. When you told him you were pregnant, you'd assumed you would make an appointment for termination and he'd hold your hand for it. (Women's rights to choose!!!) Instead, he just sat there, his mind racing as images of you holding his baby came to his head. You two spent the entire night discussing it before realizing that maybe one would be okay. He was in a better mental place and crime would always happen. He'd keep you and the baby safe. He doesn't expect it, how much he loves the baby, how much he enjoys being a dad. When the child utters that first word, calling him 'adda' then trying again and getting it right, he feels his heart clench in so much joy he thinks it could kill him. And that's how he ended up mumbling to you one night, after putting the baby to sleep, that he wanted another. You agreed. And suddenly you both had a house full. Not as many as Dick, of course...he always had to one up everyone. But enough. He loved getting home early to put them to bed, reading his favorite books to them and explaining what supercilious and ubiquitous mean, watching their noses wrinkle just like yours did whenever they didn't recognize a big word. It was safe to say their rooms were filled with books, the kids ones they read—which were still advanced for their ages— and the classics he'd tell every night before crawling into bed with you, his heart full and his head clear. There was no lingering emptiness or pain or guilt anymore. He knew where he was and it was right where he wanted to be.

---

(Aged up) Damian: Wants 1, ends up with 2. Of course he wants a kid. One. Singular. He needs an heir and bloodline is important. He's not like his father, just accepting the idea of someone lacking his DNA carrying his surname. So, when you have a baby, he's content. Proud of you, a little hesitant because he has no idea how to be a parent so he tries to hand the baby off to a nanny. That works for a while, until he insists no one is taking good enough care of the child and he has to do it himself. You didn't go through a painful labor just to have the child be intellectually stunted. And after a while he learns that it can be okay...maybe even enjoyable to hear a kid calling to him, and watching those little bright green eyes blink slowly while falling asleep in a massive bed filled with every stuffed animal the child asked for and then some. When you tell him you're expecting another baby, he's caught off guard, unsure if he really even knows how to parent the first one. But deep down, he feels warmer when you tell him. He hopes this one looks more like you.

[saintsenara]

Do you think there is parallel between Peter and ron.

Fandom does Peter wrong. That is a fact. He is either absent or is present just for comic relief or is pure evil. But all those characterisation are simply cartoonish. As if written by a person who is living in la la land...

Peter, just like Lupin, we only know major things about him. But like not many people see lupin as a gray shade character only a kind fluffy guy, Peter is polarised to the bad one....

Ron similarly is often given the last place if how much of a good friend each person in golden trio was to be questioned. And that is a tragedy in itself because atleast for Ron we have so much material...

Infact for me, Ron will always be a person who has bigger heart than jkr's favorite mary sue-Lily Evans. She did what any good mother should do. But fandom never stops going on and on about it Or even Harry's sacrifice at the end is so much singed about...but then we have Ron, an 11 year kid who for the sake of defeating voldy, told his new Friends to leave him. He sacrificed himself at 11. Everyone was sure that he is risking his life...but no one i see ever gushes about that act of bravery. It is always about one Potter Or the other.

Peter too. I mean he won't have been friends with the other three for 10 years if they just tolerated him and vice versa. But making him evil kr stupid kr dumb Or hideous to look at in his childhood or teen years is like taking all his personality away and giving us just a shell of a person...

He did become animagi at 15 and that is quite a commendable magic. He is cunning to pull up his stunt as a spy....

Like war as sirius describes in gof is so dark and scary. And people forgot that big things make a person change.

Ron on the other hand had done quite a lot in his life time but often he is found to be judged for leaving his friends.

I believe that the only difference between them is that ron recognised his faults and made correction. Meanwhile pettigrew simply kept on walking on the wrong path he chose....

What do you think on this..?

thank you very much for the ask, pal!

i don't think this entirely works. ron gets cast by the fandom as a gluttonous moron who's also a bad friend primarily on account of the films - and as a bad person by people who want to ship hermione with other people but don't have the nerve to do this in a complex or interesting way - but the text never suggests that either harry or hermione think of him as being in last place in the trio.

indeed, when harry does think of himself as better than ron - when ron gets made a prefect over him in order of the phoenix - he feels horrible for his brief flash of jealousy and soon gets over it. on other occasions when he notes something about himself which could be seen as superior to ron - when he notes that ron got no outstandings at owl, for example - harry doesn't actually force a comparison which is designed to position ron below him. they end up doing the same newts, which is what harry - who sees ron as his partner in crime - cares about.

ron is also demonstrably harry's best friend, and harry tends to enable him and automatically side with him in conflict - it's an example of great self-growth that he doesn't cut hermione off in half-blood prince when ron does, since he's perfectly happy to do so in prisoner of azkaban. but he's also demonstrably hermione's best friend too. harry's relationship with her is, as he says, sibling-like, which doesn't just mean that it's not romantic, but that it contains a "you can't choose your family" vibe - he loves her fiercely, but he also finds her exasperating in a way ron doesn't, doesn't make any real effort to learn about her interests or include her in his, and is often quite harsh to her. ron - in contrast - does see his relationship with her as one of active choice.

this is why i never really like the idea that the trio and the marauders are meant to be parallels. on the surface, ron and harry should be the equivalent of james and sirius and hermione should be remus...

but they're not, because the clear dynamic of the marauders in canon is that they were a group centred around james. all three of sirius, remus, and peter clearly understood james as their best friend, and their relationships among themselves primarily depend on their understanding of their and the others' relationship to james. there is - i think - a credible case to be made that, if james was removed from the picture entirely, but not in a way that caused the profound trauma of the canon timeline [if he just moved away with lily, for example], the remaining three would drift apart.

james - of course - only understood sirius as his equal, his brother. peter is obviously someone he considered inferior to the two of them - albeit in a fond way, rather than a cruel one. he clearly thinks of him the way a teenager might think of their pre-teen sibling - someone you love and are happy to include in your social life if they do what you want, someone you also don't want to embarrass you in front of your cool teenage friends by letting them do what they want instead of following your instructions. remus is clearly someone he didn't think of as quite so socially inferior to him, but he also still seems to have understood him as peripheral to his and sirius' rampant codependence.

the trio doesn't have anything like this dynamic. even though harry is narratively unequal to ron and hermione - he is their leader, they are his disciples - the relationships across the three of them [harry's active choice to be friends with ron, harry's feeling that hermione is his sister; ron's active choice to be friends with hermione, his pseudo-familial relationship with harry] are much more equal than those among the marauders.

what i have been convinced by, however, is @whinlatter's belief that the best parallel for peter in the series is ginny:

[vulpixisananimal]

(Siffrin) {Mal Du Pays} <Null> |Asterion| [Loop] [(Saffron)]

[A:3 C:51]

"I-I'm just, worried. . ."

". . Me too, Sif."

(You and Isabeau were getting ready to sleep; teeth all brushed and picked. Now you were just chatting while getting into your sleepers. The house only had three bedrooms. Ramos was still holed up in their room, the siblings and Mirabelle took the master bedroom, and Odile happily took the smaller guest room. That left you and Isabeau with the couch.)

". . . Do you think they'll come out tomorrow?" (You continue, putting your shirt on.) "It's just, been a whole day, s-so. . ."

"I, hope so." (Isa sounds as worried as you are.) "If they don't come out tomorrow, lets try and cheer em up, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan. All dressed by the way."

"Same here!" (With that you turn around to see Isabeau all cute and ready for a good nights rest. Stars. . .)

". . ." (You glance at the couch.) ". . . Heh, I think it'll be a squeeze."

"Well I think we can work it out." (He smiles, laying down on the couch with his arms open.) "See? Plenty of room!"

"O-oh-!" (You stand up very straight, face feeling hot.)

". . . Too much?"

"N-nonononononotatall!" (You go over and collapse into his arms. And moment later, the warm blankets were holding you both close.)

(You're both quiet, probably very, very embarressed. Isabeau puts a hand on your head. You shift a bit and look up at him. Stars, he's so, so cute. . . You're not sure how you survived all these years, all those loops, without being close like this.)

". . . You're, really soft." (You mumble.)

"!!!!!" (His face lights up, then looks away.) "W-well, uh, you're, you're really warm?"

(You laugh softly at that.) "You're warm too, Isa~"

"H-hey-" (He covers his face with the free hand.) "No fair."

"What, you want me to call you cute, next?" (You giggle.) "Or maybe, I could. . ."

(He glances at you, still hiding behind the hand.) ". . . Y-you could. . ?"

"Maybe. . ." (You reach up, putting a hand over the one he was hiding behind. You move up, getting face to face.)

(He moves his hand away, blushing hard. Your heart was pounding, he was so cute, so kind and nice, and, understanding! You could trust him! A-and, you wanted, to. . .)

(Your hand moves down the side of his head, down to his neck. You lean down, closer, closer, closer--)

[(Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.)]

(You jolt back, excitement replaced by terror. That look on his face, those wide eyes, it was, it was, like, like, n-no you, you didn't, you didn't do anything you didn't want to hurt him you didn't want to you didn't you didn't want to, t-to)

"Hey hey it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." (He talked so softly to you, a hand gently touching your cheek.) "It's alright, I promise, okay? I'm okay, you're okay, right?"

(Your heart won't stop beating. You lean into his touch. . .)

". . . . . Bad memory?" (He asks.)

(You nod.)

"Wanna talk about it?"

(. . . You, nod-)

"I'm not forcing it, okay? You don't need to right away, okay?"

(. . .) "O-okay. . ."

(You slowly relax, laying on Isabeaus chest, listening to his heart. Its beating drowned out your own.)

". . . W-we can, talk about it, tomorrow?"

". . ." (You feel his hand in your hair again. You close your eye.) "Yeah. . ."

"Sleep?" (Isa asks.)

"Mmhm. . ."

"Okay, g'night, Sif." (He moves, and blows out the lamp giving light.) "I, I love you, Siffrin."

"I love you too, Isa. . ." (Your body felt so heavy, sleepy. . .) "I wanna, kiss, you. . ."

(Before you knew it, you were asleep.)

>>>

(You were staring at the wall in the middle of the night.)

(Isabeau was still fast asleep, lucky guy, but you had a nightmare. You couldn't get to sleep again, so, you just, stared at the wall. Not wanting to disturb him.)

(. . . You were starting to get used to the noises of the night, it was a whole lot of nothing.)

(. . . Heh, nothing.)

(. . . . . .)

(Why were you scared about kissing him? It wouldn't happen again. He wanted to kiss you, you wanted to kiss him. So why. . .)

(You close your eye again. Maybe this time. . .)

(. . . . . . . . . . .)

(. . . . No, that, wasn't going to work. You sigh softly. If you couldn't sleep, then maybe at least you could go stargazing. Yeah, that might help. Or make it worse. . . You really should stay here, or just stargaze in the front garden, but. . .)

(. . . Oh blind it all- You move very, very slowly. Carefully plucking yourself from the arms of the gentle giant Isabeau. You place the blanket over him, he was still fast asleep. You lean down to plant a kiss on his forehead, hesitate, then move to the stairs. You want to get onto the roof, as close as you could be to the stars.)

(You were very careful not to make a sound, sticking to the side of the staircase where the wood was sturdy. There was a window at the end of the hall. Yeah, that should work.)

(You walk slowly down the hall. Past the master bedroom, guest room, and, Ramos' room. . . You pause at their door. Maybe you could check on them, just in case! Y'know, if they want to. . . Nevermind.)

(You turn to continue walking down the hall when you hear it. A soft sound, a soft, crying? You pause, listening, that was definitely crying. You turn back to the door and put an ear to it.)

(. . . .)

(You take your ear back, and place your hand over the door handle, and. . . You breathe in, and out. You open the door.)

(The room was a nice size, it had a queen sized bed, some art on the walls, alongside a darkless mask. There was a bookshelf, and a desk; as well as a bucket in the corner with gardening tools. Toy weapons leaned on a wall, and, stepping in further, you could see some playing cards had fallen from the desk.)

(there was a person shaped lump in bed sheets making a quiet sobbing noises. You carefully close the door behind you and step closer.)

". . . Ramos?" (You whisper.)

(The lump moved a little.)

". . . Can't sleep?"

(The lump mumbles something. You step closer.)

". . . Do you, want to, talk about it?"

". . ." (The lump curls up tighter) ". . . Go away."

(Oh. . . You look away, rubbing your shoulder.) ". . W-well, if I could help, with. ."

"I said go away." (They were getting more annoyed.)

(You look at the door leading out. Maybe you should. . .)

(No. You're not running away from this. You sit down on the bed.) "I'm, not going to just go away, Ramos."

". . ."

". . ." (You take a small breath.) ". . . I'm sorry about Eri, Ramos."

". . . Why are you talking to me?"

(You pause, then reach out, and place a hand on their shoulder. Or what you presume to be their shoulder.) "Because, because you're important to me, Ramos."

". . . Don't lie to me." (The lump shifts, and eventually Ramos' head pops out from the covers. They looked very tired, like they had been crying all day.) "J-just, just go away already."

"Huh?!?" (Lie?) "I'm not lying to you, Ramos, I promise you really are important to me-"

"No I'm not!" (They cut you off, and look away.) "I'm nothing to you! A nobody, a weed, a stagehand."

"That's not true!" (You move a bit closer to them.) "Y-you're, really important. And you've helped so much already, s-so. ."

"You have your perfect little family already, it's fine." (They hold their head down.) "It's FINE! I'm just stupid for trying to butt in on that. Why would you want me anyways."

"But I-"

"Stop talking and go away!" (They rub their hair in frustration.) "Why are you teasing me like this. I'll just, stay in this room till I die. That's what I'll do! It's fine because I'll just be ignored like how you ignored that stupid blinding crush!"

(They cut you off again.) "Yeah let's just ignore it and let you figure it out! Sure, how funny! A funny prank to play on me, you'd just leave me here once we got here, huh? And avoid the topic at all costs?!? Just say you don't love me already and get it over with!!"

(They're crying, breaking down, head in their hands. You, you didn't know what to tell them. If they didn't believe you, then, then. . . .)

(. . . No, no you knew what you had to do. You pull yourself fully onto the bed and reach out to them.)

". . . Ramos." (You say in a steady voice.) "Look at me."

"No!" (They recoil.) "Just, just--"

"Ramos." (O-kay that was a new tone of voice.) "Look. At. Me."

(They stay still for what felt like several minutes, until they slowly turned to look at you. You put a hand on each of their shoulders.)

(You looked at them dead in the eye.) ". . . I'm sorry. Okay?"

". . . . Why. . ?" (Ramos looked away.) "You didn't. . ."

"Look at me." (They wince, and look at you. You continue.) "I'm sorry, because I didn't tell you what our plan was, okay?"

". . . Plan?"

"Yeah! Well, deal, really." (You smile softly, keeping your eye on Ramos.) "The others had until we got here to give me a good reason not to, w-well, y'know. . . And, if, they didn't find anything, then after I talked to Eri, I could. . ."

". . ." (Ramos looks away, sad, then back to you when you breathe in.) ". . . Y-you, were thinking, about. . ."

"Every day." (You move a bit closer.) "I, I've been thinking about it every day. Every moment. Every second I wished that they wouldn't find anything. I hoped that I wasn't just being a hopeful idiot."

(They don't respond. You continue.) ". . . D-do, do you know what they found, Ramos? All that intimidation, all their digging, all those threats?"

". . . What did they. . ?"

(You smile.) "Nothing."

(Ramos' eyes widen a little, you continue talking.) "They couldn't find a single little reason to not trust you."

". . . B-but-"

"And," (You interrupt.) "I, also found something out, too, okay?"

". . . S-siffrin. . ."

"Ramos. . ." (Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before. Here goes nothing.) "I. . . I. . . I-I. . ."

"Siffrin, y-you don't, need to-"

"I love you, Ramos."

(It's like time stopped. The words left your mouth, you couldn't stuff the back in now. You weren't going to loop back, you weren't going to try and cover yourself. It was the truth. It was what you needed to say. What you needed to get out.)

(Ramos' face was impossible to read. The emotions they must be feeling right now, after everything they've gone through. . . But, you said it. You said it, and you were going to stick with them.)

"You. . . ." (They're breathing faster and faster.) ". . . Y-you, you don't, d-don't need to, to. . ."

"I'll say it again if you want." (You smile big and wide.) "I love you."

"B-but you, you don't! Right?!?" (They're hyperventilating, putting a shaky hand to your arm.) "You don't, d-d-don't need to fake that t-to make me feel b-b-better!"

"I'm not faking it." (You laugh a little.) "I'm serious. Super serious, super duper serious."

"D-don't lie to me!!" (They push one of your arms off and look away.) "I-is this a prank?!? W-who, who put you up, to. ."

"Ramos! I'm not-"

"I don't believe you!"

(. . . BLIND IT ALL! FINE!)

(You shuffle closer.) "I could kiss you, would that prove it?"

(Ramos head whips back around, eyes very wide.) ". . . P-please stop messing with me."

"I'm not messing with you." (You lean in, slowly.) "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"I-" (They're shaking so hard, and finding it hard to talk.) "B-but, y-you don't. . ."

"I do."

"But-"

"I really, really do."

"I-I-- But, you DON'T!! I know you don't love me so, s-so--" (Ramos looks at you, then away, back, away, back, and then shuts their eyes tight and groans, ruffling their hair.) "Fine!! If you really do love me then just kiss me!! But you wont because I know you don't really-"

(You shut them up with a kiss.)

(For the second time in the night, everything stopped. In that moment, you could have heard a fly cough. You hold the kiss for a few moments, your mouth on theirs. You didn't push hard, just, holding it there, until, eventually, you pull away.)

(Ramos didn't move, the shock on their face was as obvious as the sun in the sky. You rub your mouth, blushing like crazy. Parts of your head were screaming in embarressment, you ignored them.)

". . . I guess, I really do love you." (You giggle softly, and move closer.) "Still there, Ramos?"

(They nod shakily.)

". . . Was that okay?"

(There's a pause, then another nod.)

"Okaygood- U-uh, do you still not believe me?"

(. . . Ramos shakes their head.)

"Having trouble talking?"

(Another shakey nod, you giggle again, then lean in closer.)

"Oh wait I know, I probably just stole your voice, sorry. Here, let me put it back." (You kiss them again.)

(This time you hear a squeak, and it takes you a second to realize it came from Ramos. A few seconds later, you felt an arm around your back.)

(You pull away again.) "Better?"

". . . . Y-yeah-" (They squeak again, breathing very, very fast.) ". . . Uh, S-siffrin. . ?"

"Yeah?" (Your arms move to wrap around them.)

"I-I. . ." (Ramos moves closer, embracing you in both arms now.) "I. . I-I love you, Siffrin."

"I love you too, Ramos." (You put your forehead to theirs.) ". . . More kisses?"

"Please-"

"Coming right up~"

>>>

(Isabeau)

"Have you guys seen Sif?"

(Bonnie and Nille were up early making breakfast. Through some miracle, they hadn't woken you up with all their moving around and sibling banter.)

"Nope." (Nille comments, beating some eggs.) "I think they mighta' gone out early."

"Nuh uh!" (Bonnie pipes up.) "Cloak's still here, dagger too."

"Huh! Weird!" (You yawn and turn to leave.) "I'll go ask M'dame and Mirabelle, then."

"Oh real quick!" (Nille runs over and hands you a small plate of food.) "Run this up to Ramos, will ya?"

"Will do!" (You take the plate and head upstairs. You and Sif fell asleep together, and he was just, the cutest!! But you were worried!! They must have slipped out of your arms, and, what if they ran away or something?!? Or went after Perci by themself, or, maybe. . .)

(Stop thinking!!! It's, it's fine! Nothing's wrong, just, just, o-okay!)

(You walk to Ramos' door, and pause. You're worried about Ramos, too. Maybe they'll run away as well, or, do something worse. After something like a parent dying. . . You slowly open the door.)

". . . Hey Ramos?" (You say softly, peeking in. You can see a tuff of hair poking out the top of the blankets. You take a step inside.) "'Got breakfast for you, are you uh, doing any better?"

(You froze up.)

(There's clothes on the floor, and they are, not, all, Ramos'-- YY-Y-YOU RECOGNISED. THOSE. CLOTHES-)

(YOU SNEAK TOWARDS THE BED AS NORMALLY AS YOU COULD AND PUT DOWN THE FOOD ON THE SIDE TABLE AND-- YEP, THERE HE IS!)

(SIFFRIN. AND RAMOS. WERE. IN BED. CUDDLING)

(ASFGBAHNDEKGFHAKHSNDSA)

(You cover your burning hot face, they looked so cute together!! Siffrin was tucking their head into the crook of Ramos' neck! Their arms were wrapped around each other. Oh Change if you stayed any longer you might actually DIE!!!)

(You sneak out and carefully close the door. Taking a biiiig deep breath. Okay! Just, leave them to it. You didn't see anything! S-so, so you'll just, keep that secret so they can-)

"Isabeau." (You hear Odiles smug voice behind you.)

(. . . . .Oh no.)

[foundfamily-connoisseur]

Uhhhh lower effort but it wasn't leaving me alone: My take on Giga Mac 😋

Basic info:

Mac doesn't remember or know how he obtained this form. At best he remembers the feeling of restrains on his wrists and ankles and the stabbing of needles, but nothing else.

It usually occurs when in a fight when he's badly injured and his brain enters "fight or flight" mode: it chooses fight. The biggest downside to this is that this is no longer a fight for the title, but for survival(ie to the death).

While there's the bonus of added strength and stamina, it comes at the expense of his mental: basically he becomes more of a wild animal. He can understand basic human speech but he can't talk, resorting to vocalizations(no sign language either so good luck with that)

Retractable claws: he has em. Id probably make him more fucked up tbh but I wanted to keep it low-key since he still gotta throw hands and claws don't rlly let you curl your hands into fists.

Transformation: painful, he can feel his bones snapping as everything shifts into place. It takes about a minute, maybe less. The longer he stays like that, the more beast like he gets, and the harder it is to get him back to normal.

The 1st Hour: absolutely vital, transformed and post transformation. Mac isn't meant to stay transformed for long, so try to get him back to normal within the first hour, or complications will arise (heightened aggression, more animal characteristics, loss of sanity, etc). The longest he's stayed transformed was 2 hours, and it's something no one wants to see again.

Post transformation: the most crucial. He's at his most sensitive and therefore most volatile. Small things can set him off, bringing you back to square one with Gigamac. Avoid anything that would annoy him normally, as even the sound of a radiator can get him back to the snarling beast.

He also retains some traits from transforming. He already has slightly longer canines than average, but freshly transformed all his teeth are sharp. He doesn't have traditional claws, but his nails are still sharp and pointed. The only thing that sticks is the hair, which he usually just cuts off and calls it a day.

Getting him back: there's two main ways to do it: exhaustion and pacifying. Exhaustion is the easiest method, as it usually just ends up with the bigger, tougher boxers to either just Duke it out literally or hold him down as he thrashes till he tires himself out. Pacifying usually just resorts to being like 🍔🥺 "quieres?". Much harder to do but it's what the boxers and Doc try to do first, cuz naturally no one is comfortable pinning down the 17 year old as he screams like a banshee.

Recovery: as stated, the transformation takes an absurd toll on Mac, knocking him out for the day. While he's never been out for longer than 3 days(which was already scary enough that Doc Louis right about had a heart attack), it's still something to worry about. When hes out, he's out and essentially nothing will wake him up.

And yeah I just think Giga Mac as a concept is pretty neat

[blueberri-blu]

rise raph x male reader?? he's way short and super gay for how much bigger raph is than him.

ty tyy!! <3

Of course!! I haven't written for a male!reader before, so it might not be the best, but either way I tried!! I hope you like it, here's what I came up with:

Lil' Guy╹♡╹

╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡

When you two first meet, he's a little nervous

Your so small

And he is so big, especially compared to you

So, at first he avoids you

Anytime you get too close, he'll try to subtly put distance between you two

Emphasis on tries

After some scolding from Dr. Delicate Touch

He stops trying to avoid you,

He's still as careful as possible

Only now you're actually able to spend time with

And you?

The moment you saw Raph, your gay little ass was SO fucking excited

He's fucking huge

Yet his heart is so much bigger

The way he does on his brothers, the way he's just so nice to everyone, opening the door for you, bringing you the last slice of pizza

Who wouldn't fall for the cute teddy bear turtle

You realize your feelings when you get caught up in the middle of a fight

And just as the enemy is about to strike

Raph cages you, practically kabe dons you, to a nearby wall

Your face is so close to his plastron

Once his brothers are able to flee, he grabs you and just starts jumping from roof to roof

You get to the lair, and you're practically as red as his mask

Leo, of course, makes this observation known to all of New York

And Raph and you are now the same color

After this Raph tries to avoid you again

Raph is only doing this because he is very clnfused

Unlike his brothers, he wasn't as well versed in the media

So he's only ever seen hetero relationships

This makes him panic because?? You're a boy??? And he likes you??

He goes to Mikey for help, only to get Dr. Feelings (either way, it helps)

It ends up being a whole TED talk for all of the brothers (between Dr. Feelings and April)

To educate them on different sexualities

After this, he comes to the realization that he does like you, romantically, and it's ok, and no, there wasn't anything wrong with him

But now came the inevitable: ✨Gay Panic✨

He didn't know if you 1.) felt the same or 2.) if you even liked men???

This is when surprisingly, Donnie comes in and talks some logic into Raph

"Look, brother, you know I am not one for... Feelings" (he shuddered at the word)

"However, from the data I have collected, he does seem to be attracted to men" "But how do you KNOW know?" "Raph, he literally showed us pictures of him at a pride parade, with the gay men flag... And he has said multiple times that he can't get a boyfriend..." "oh... OH..."

Raph takes the risk and starts "flirting" with you

AKA sitting really close to you, feeding you (while bashfully looking away), and being your Guard Dog Privilege

If you want a relationship with him, You most definitely have to make the first move

When you ask Raph out confidently, he almost died of cuteness overload

You're just so small

And looking down at you while you look up at him with confidence he just

He breaks

He does say yes though

And once you're dating

Be prepared for his brothers' jokes

They call you his chihuahua and him your Malibut

Raph is constantly dying of cuteness overload

And whenever he gets cuteness aggression, he pinches your cheeks

If you're ever mad at him, he tries SO hard to take you seriously (and he does) it's just so cute seeing you look up at him with violence in your eyes, knowing very well you can't actually hurt him

And whenever you ogle at how big he is?

Raph could die right there

Comparing hand sizes? Redder than his mask

You massage his biceps? Heart attack

And if you give him a sultry look? Nosebleed and passes out

Over all, you and Raph are just the perfect pair <3

╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡╹♡

Sooo ... This is a bit longer than I expected, but I did it!! I hope you like it! If there's any advice you can give me for writing male!reader I'd greatly appreciate it!

[revelboo]

Ignore me-Not Transformers, I just like the angry boi and a friend reminded me of the Transformers/Overwatch crossover and that he was paired with Megs for it. Love his design and the Omnics in general, but so, so incredibly awful at this game. Also, title’s not a Motion City Soundtrack song

Anti-Gravity

Ramattra x Reader

• Heart racing, you run headlong down the street. Hearing the explosions and trying to guess how many streets over they are. You don’t even know where you’re going, just following the people in front of you. When they reach the intersection and start screaming and scattering, you’re shoved down by the panicked people ahead of you. Falling at the feet of an Omnic taller than any you’ve ever seen, seeing its head tip, ribbons on its head sliding against its shoulders. Unable to move as Nullifiers storm the street in a violent tide around him. And his arm lifts, a staff in his hands as you hear the scream of jets overhead.

• They scatter like insects before him and his followers, screaming in fear. Knows they think he’s a monster for what he’s doing, even though they’re the ones that drove him to this. He never wanted any of this, trying again and again for peace only to see his people cut down. Because to them, the Omnics are expendable. Things that can be used and thrown away, not living beings. But not anymore. Never again ignored, because he will be seen and heard.

• That head turns and you catch the faint glow of optics under that mask as the biggest Omnic sees you on the ground, time seeming to slow as his head turns away dismissing you, those ribbon like strands on his head stirring in the breeze as the jets turn. They wouldn’t dare attack, they have to know there’s civilians down here with those monsters. You want to believe that so bad, but when the first missile is launched, you’re frozen but not surprised. Not really. Null Sector makes the news all the time, its leader thwarting attacks repeatedly. Always slipping away before he can be brought down.

• Growling, his arm lifts and a barrier shield flickers to life as the first missile hits. They’re really desperate enough to not care about collateral damage like the human sprawled at his feet or the ones still running just to try and end him. His Nullifiers turning and returning fire as another missile hits a building overlooking the street. Seeing the damage, seeing the building lean over them all. Any cost to stop him, then. Because now they see him. Fear him. Swapping to nemesis form, he bends, dragging the human out of his way and slamming his fists down. Again. Street buckling under the force, aware of the building coming down as he falls and the human screaming as they go with him. Rending pain. And the building crashes down, entombing him in darkness. But they’d seen him.

• Something wet drips in your face, and everything hurts as you come to by degrees. Wherever you are is cold, dark, and wet. Shafts of light spearing down from above, dust dancing in the golden glow. Pain slices through you when you try to move, trying to remember details. The building came down on you, so how had you survived? You remember the tall Omnic getting bigger, looking at you and raising his fists. Falling. You’re below the street? Gingerly sitting up, you try to figure out how badly you’re hurt. And there, a flicker in the dark. That Omnic, the one you’d seen on the news. Ramattra, Null Sector’s leader. He’s right there, unmoving. One of his legs pinned under debris, an arm torn completely off. Much worse off than you are, though shifting sends a jagged lance of pain through your ankle. There’s a broken rebar near you and you reach for it without thinking, the metal bitingly cold against your palm. As cold as the realization that you could end this. Drive this twisted spike of metal through his head and the fear disappears. Optics flickering behind the broken mask, its head turns to stare at you. And snared by those awful optics, you drag yourself to your feet.

Next

[ppleasexanny]

pictures of us.

second part

matt x reader

matt had fallen asleep, the soft hum of the tv filling the otherwise quiet room. the glow from the screen flickered across the walls, casting faint, shifting shadows. you weren’t sure where nick and chris had gone; they’d probably turned in for the night too. the house felt still, and in the silence, your thoughts grew louder. you sat on the couch, staring at your drawing, pencil in hand, though you hadn’t added a single stroke in what felt like hours. your mind kept drifting back to matt’s words, replaying them like a song stuck on repeat. 

it all felt... strange. surreal, even. was he serious? did he actually mean it? the possibility that matt could like you—truly like you—felt almost laughable. it didn’t make sense. it felt like a joke, some elaborate prank you weren’t in on. there was no way someone like matt found you attractive. you were certain of that. weren’t you? 

your gaze shifted to him. matt lay curled up on the other end of the couch, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. his hair fell messily across his face, covering his closed eyes, and he was cocooned in a white, fluffy blanket that looked warm and impossibly soft. he looked peaceful, far removed from the whirlwind of emotions spinning inside you. 

the truth was, you wanted to be in a relationship—longed for it, really. but as much as the thought excited you, it also terrified you. the idea of letting someone in, of being vulnerable, made your chest tighten. the timing felt wrong. you didn’t feel ready. and yet, the way matt’s words lingered in your mind made you wonder if you ever would be. 

the more you thought about it, the more the fear crept in. it started as a quiet unease, a small pit forming in your stomach. but the longer you sat there, the bigger it grew, swallowing your thoughts until it was all you could feel. the idea that matt could truly like you—really like you—felt overwhelming. what if it wasn’t real? what if it was? the questions spun faster and faster in your mind, tangling themselves into a knot you couldn’t untie. before long, even the comfort of his home felt suffocating, as though the walls themselves were closing in around you. 

you couldn’t stay. not like this. 

your heart raced as you stood up abruptly, grabbing your drawing and pencils with shaking hands. the room was still quiet except for the low drone of the tv, but your own thoughts were loud enough to drown it out. you were supposed to stay here for the night, but that plan was no longer an option. you needed to leave, to get out, to put some space between you and all of these feelings you weren’t ready to face. 

you tiptoed toward matt’s bedroom, careful not to make a sound. pushing the door open, you slipped inside. the room smelled faintly of him—clean and warm, like freshly laundered blankets—and the sight of it made your chest tighten further. you crossed to his desk and carefully placed your drawing on top, smoothing the edges before stepping back. for a moment, you hesitated, staring at the piece you’d worked so hard on. would he understand? would he be hurt? 

shaking the thoughts away, you reached for a piece of paper and a pen sitting nearby. the words came quickly, hurried but deliberate: 

“sorry i left, something came up x” 

you placed the note beside the drawing, the pen lingering in your hand for a second longer than necessary. then you set it down and stepped back, taking one last look at the room before quietly slipping out. as you walked toward the door, the weight in your chest eased just slightly. leaving didn’t feel good, but staying had felt impossible. 

with a quick motion, you slipped on your uggs, their soft lining instantly warming your feet. next came your favorite jacket, the one you loved more than anything, its familiar weight settling over your shoulders like a hug. it brought a small, fleeting sense of comfort, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the turmoil inside you. you walked into the kitchen, your steps quiet against the floor, and grabbed your bag from the counter. slinging it over your shoulder, you took a deep breath. you were ready to leave. or at least, you needed to be. 

you made your way toward the stairs, your heart pounding harder with every step. but just as you reached the top, you paused. something made you glance back at matt, still asleep on the couch. the sight of him stopped you in your tracks. his hair fell softly over his face, his body curled up under the fluffy white blanket. he looked so peaceful, so unguarded. 

a pang of guilt hit you, sharp and sudden. you felt bad for him, deeply and profoundly. he didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve you. 

he shouldn’t be in love with you. 

your throat tightened as the thought repeated in your mind, over and over like a mantra. matt deserved someone who could love him back the way he loved, fully and without hesitation. someone who wasn’t weighed down by overthinking, someone who didn’t sink into bad moods that came without warning. someone who didn’t fight a constant battle with anxiety that left them doubting themselves—and everyone else—at every turn. 

you knew matt didn’t care about any of that. you knew how much he cared for you, how deeply he loved you. he’d made it clear that none of your struggles scared him. but that didn’t matter, not to you. what mattered was that you couldn’t trust yourself not to hurt him. your flaws felt like landmines, and you couldn’t bear the thought of matt stepping on one and getting caught in the fallout. 

you stared at him a moment longer, your chest heavy, before turning back to the stairs. this was for the best, you told yourself. it had to be. 

your feet moved on autopilot as you descended, your bag thumping lightly against your side. the front door came into view, and without hesitating, you opened it. the cool night air rushed in, biting at your cheeks and pulling at your hair. you stepped out into the darkness, the door clicking softly shut behind you. 

and just like that, you were gone. 

𝜗𝜚

the morning after you left, matt woke up in his bed with a faint sense that something was off. the house was too quiet, the usual hum of morning activity nowhere to be found. for a moment, he chalked it up to grogginess, yawning as he shuffled to the kitchen. then he noticed your absence—no signs of you anywhere. 

he figured you must have left early, maybe to run an errand or take care of something you forgot to mention. when he spotted your drawing and the note on his desk, he shrugged it off. it wasn’t like you to leave abruptly, but life happened sometimes. “something came up,” your note had said, and that was good enough for him. at least, for now. 

the first day passed, and matt didn’t think much about it. he assumed you’d check in, send a quick text to let him know you got home safely. but as the hours stretched on, the absence of a message started to feel strange. 

by the second day, his confidence that everything was fine began to waver. 

by the third day, the knot in his stomach had grown tighter. he tried to ignore it, telling himself you were probably busy or just needed space. but the silence was deafening, and the longer it stretched on, the harder it became to stay calm. 

he texted you a few times: 

matt: "hey, hope everything’s okay" 

matt: "just checking in, let me know when you can" 

matt: "you good? starting to get worried now" 

each message went unanswered, and with every passing hour, his anxiety grew. he scrolled through your social media, looking for any signs of activity, but there was nothing. no posts, no updates. just silence. 

by the fourth day, matt couldn’t take it anymore. his mind raced with possibilities. had he done something wrong? were you hurt? did you decide you didn’t want to see him anymore and couldn’t bring yourself to say it? he felt sick at the thought. 

he paced around his house, your note still sitting on his desk where he’d left it. picking it up, he reread it for the hundredth time, trying to decipher some hidden meaning in your words. 

finally, he grabbed his keys and jacket. he wasn’t going to wait any longer. he needed answers. 

he needed to see you. 

a/n... hiiiiii here's the second part, not sure if i like this tho... tell me what u guys are thinking abt it

ᯓ TAGS: @strnilolover

© PPLEASEXANNY