#if that’s hazing. maybe I’m kind of really okay with it

[jasperyourmutt]

Coworkers at the tattoo shop were calling for me to do a Task and I was in another room so they didn’t know where I was

when I came back out one of them was like “we should get him a collar with a little bell so we always know where he is”

Hahahahahaha yeahhhhh what a funny crazy idea. You guys are so silly. Anyways I already have the collar so you guys just have to supply the bell

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice

paring! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you have a date coming up and you still haven’t lost your virginity, so you go to your best friend in the hopes he will help you out and save you from embarrassment

warnings! smut. loss of virginity. oral sex (f. receiving) pnv sex. unprotected sex.

part 2

you find jj at the chateau, laying in a hammock on the porch with his shirt off and a joint between his fingers. you could smell the scent of weed before you even made it to the door and jj gave you a smile when he noticed you.

“hey, j.” you greeted, now standing in front of the bench. “you busy?”

“what’s it look like?” he took a long drag from the joint and exhaled. you couldn’t help but grin at his glazed over eyes and his genuine, high smile.

you glanced into the screen door, looking for john b, or anyone else, but couldn’t see well from the smoky haze.

“anyone home?”

he shakes his head no.

“kie and pope are working, think john b’s out with sarah.” he says. “why? you okay?” his eyes soften and you notice his look of concern.

“yeah,” you smile, “everything’s fine, just need to uh- talk to you.” you had no idea how you were gonna go through with this without making it incredibly awkward. you already felt sick to your stomach at the thought of him rejecting you and never seeing you the same way after this.

jj nods and stubs out his joint. he stands up and opens the screen door, motioning for you to enter first.

“after you.”

you smile and step inside, but you soon begin to feel ill at the fact that you were really going to ask him this. you wanted this to happen, but you were terribly nervous.

you lead him to his room and close the door behind you. he sits on the edge of the bed and you follow, sitting crisss cross, facing him.

“you sure everything’s fine?” he asks, obviously questioning the fact that you wanted to speak to him in his room, and that you were silent.

“i told you about that guy i’ve been talking to for a few weeks, yeah?” you start, not wanting to make eye contact with the boy.

“yeah.” he nods.

you try not to pick at the skin of your fingernails.

“okay, well, he asked me out.” you say. “the date’s tomorrow.”

he furrows his eyebrows in question, noticing that you sounded kind of disappointed about something that was supposed to be good.

“well that’s a good thing, right?” he scoffed. “i mean, i cant remember the last time you went on a date.”

“shut up.” you nudge him. “yeah, it’s a good thing… i like him- i think.”

“alright, well, that’s all you wanted to tell me?” he asks. “you don’t need dating advice right? because i can’t help you in that department.”

you fight a smile at his remark and shake your head no.

“okay, here’s the thing.” you sigh before you force out your next words, absolutely dreading his reaction. “i don’t know if he’ll wanna sleep with me eventually, and, well he’s kind of experienced with girls and all that, and i’m kind of…. not.” you cringe at your choice of words, already regretting coming to jj out of embarrassment. you glance at him momentarily and he seems to be studying you, waiting for you to keep talking. “what i mean is, like-“ you sighed. you knew you sounded like a complete idiot, but you didn’t want to back out now.

“you know i’m a virgin, right?” you didn’t even want to look at him after the words came out of your mouth.

he smiled a little.

“i, uh, i figured.” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“don’t be a dick.” you shove him once again and he chuckles, which allows you to lighten up just slightly. “i’m saying that i don’t know what i’m doing - y’know, with guys and all that. i don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“so you want… sex advice? from me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with suspicion.

you nervously bite the inside of your cheek and your face grows hot.

“well, i thought maybe a little more hands on.” you said before you could even stop yourself. you knew you had to just come out and say it or you would’ve backed out and nothing would ever come of this situation. you searched his face for a reaction.

he looked confused, but he didn’t seem whole heartedly against the idea. the silence between you both was becoming awkward and you felt the need to explain yourself, hopefully making the situation sound less like you were coming on to him and more like a friend just asking for help.

“i mean like, because you’re a guy and all, you would know what guys like best, i guess?” you said, as you watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean against the headboard of the bed. “and i was thinking about the fact that i’m going on a date for the first time since freshman year and now there’s a very high chance that i’ll sleep with him in the coming weeks, and it just- i don’t know, the idea of losing my virginity to someone i’ve known for a month didn’t really sound good to me.” you we’re rambling at this point to try and defend your case. “i would rather do it with someone i know, and trust.”

“you want me to take your virginity?” he asked, blatantly. “that’s what you came here for?”

you nod, probably chewing a hole into your cheek now.

“if it’s too weird for you, you don’t have to do it at all, it’s okay.” you said. “you were just the only person i felt like i could ask without it being awkward.”

“no, no,” his expression softens and he shakes his head, pulling his arms from his chest and taking his back off the headboard. “i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up because you expected this to go far south.

“yeah, no big deal.” he shrugs, even though in his head he knew it was a huge deal. he was going to be your first time and if he screwed it up, there was no telling what would happen between you two. “but, this won’t change anything between us right?” he asked. “like i just don’t want it to be awkward afterwards.”

“i swear.” you said, although you didn’t entirely know if that was the truth. “you’re just helping me out, right?”

“alright.” he responds. “you, uh, you wanna do this now or..?” he clears his throat again, visibly getting nervous, but your fears seemed to be disappearing now that you knew he wasn’t against the idea.

“the sooner, the better.” you said.

jj gets up from the bed and flips the lock on the door on the off chance someone were to come home.

“just a warning though,” you start, “i’ll definitely be really bad at this compared to the other girls you’ve been with.”

“that’s all right, you gotta learn somewhere.” he says, walking back to you and stopping right in front of where you were sitting on the bed. your heart started to race as the reality of what you were about to do started setting in. he sits down next to you and you could smell salt water and weed on his skin. “i’m gonna start with kissing you, is that okay?” you searches your face for confirmation and you nod, giving him the okay. “and you’ll tell me if i’m taking things too fast or if you wanna stop, right?”

you giggle a little at his attention to the matter.

“yes jj.”

you see a very slight smile appear on his lips before he slowly leaned in and connected them with yours. he tasted like weed but in the most perfect way as he skillfully moved his lips in sync with yours. his tongue softly swiped your bottom lip at the same time his hands found their way to the sides of your face and he held you there gently. you took him touching you as a sign to occupy your own hands with his body as you brought your hands around his back, feeling his bare skin.

his kisses started leading down your chin, and further down onto your neck where he connected his lips with your skin. you shivered at the new feeling of someone kissing your neck as he went lower still, reaching your collarbone. he pulled away and tugged at the him of your shirt, asking for more access to your body and he helped you out of the fabric.

“you doin okay?” he asks.

“totally fine.”

he connects his lips to your collar again as he carefully lays you down onto your back. he fights the urge not to leave any hickeys on you, knowing you had a date tomorrow.

you scoot your body up until you’re in the middle of the bed so that he can easily get on top of you. he continues kissing your body, getting lower and lower and with each passing second, you could feel yourself getting hotter and your arousal getting stronger. his mouth reached the waistband of your jean shorts and he looked up your for permission to take them off. you nodded and he unbuttoned them before sliding them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

jj kissed the curve of your hipbone and you mindlessly rolled your core up towards his mouth, to which you could feel him smirk against your skin at your neediness.

“i’ll get there princess.” he said against the space under your bellybutton. you practically lost your breath at his words and your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment.

he continued kissing you even lower, placing his lips over clothed core and hooking a finger underneath the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“can i take these off?” he asked.

“please.” you nod, almost sounding too desperate.

he pulls your bottoms down your legs, leaving you exposed to him. the first time anyone had seen you like this, and you were thankful it was jj and not some random boy who didn’t know the first thing about you.

“you still alright?”

“jj,” you giggle. “i’ll tell you if somethings wrong, okay?”

“just being courteous.” he joked.

he brought his hand to your now bare core and used his thumb to swipe a line from your entrance up to your clit, making you whine from just one touch. he spreads your wetness around your clit, his pants growing tighter at the sight of your arousal. as he rubs painfully slow circles, he searches your face for signs of enjoyment, but your eyes were shut tight and your lips were parted, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth.

“just relax, okay?” he said, to which you nod eagerly. you were totally not relaxed at all. in fact you were amped on adrenaline from the way he kissed you.

and then before you could register what was happening, you felt something new touching you. you opened your eyes and looked down at jj’s face in between your thighs, seeing his tongue swirling over your clit. it felt better than any time you had ever touched yourself. his eyes met yours for a second and you wondered why you never asked him to do this any sooner even though you pictured him going down on you many times before

your hands found their way to his blonde locks, your fingers tangling into his hair as you threw your head back on the pillow.

“oh my god, jj” you moaned, to which he picked up the pace a little. he gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart, occasionally rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs to relax you.

his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, making you jolt your hips up in pleasure at the new sensation. your legs were trembling under his grip and jj didn’t think he could get any harder, but he was, in fact, getting harder by the minute.

“jj,” you moaned his name, “please don’t stop!” you were pulling his hair tighter, trying not to be too loud in case anyone were to come home, but it was impossible to keep your mouth shut with the way he was eating your pussy. “feels so good” you cried.

your hips were rocking back and forth, rolling in the same rhythm as his tongue, practically riding his face. he knew you were close based on the fact that your moans were getting closer together and your legs were shaking harder. he suddenly switched the direction of his tongue, now going side to side and occasionally sucking on your clit, swallowing your juices.

your back was arched off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for something to hold on to as your high approached in small waves. you moved one hand to cover your mouth, trying to stifle your moans, but jj immediately reached up to your arm and pulled it from your face, not stopping his movements.

“need to hear you cum” he said against your clit before harshly sucking on it.

“fuck” you moaned, his words alone almost leading you over the edge.

he snuck two fingers into your entrance and slowly moved them against the sweet spot inside you. the mixture of his mouth expertly lapping at your clit and his fingers pushing into you had you coming undone.

“fuck- don’t stop- please- don’t st-“ you couldn’t even get the last words out as you felt yourself completely lose control. you didn’t know how loud you were moaning because all of your senses had faltered as the tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

he kept licking until you had fully ridden out your orgasm, and even then, he continued, his grip still tight on your legs as they trembled. you pushed his head away from the overstimulation and then lay limp, your chest rising and falling as you came down, your eyes still closed.

“need a second?” he asked, mockingly, his hands running up your torso and to your still covered breasts. he felt your nipples harden under your bikini top and he desperately wanted to get you out of it.

you wrap your arms around his back and pull him on top of you, connecting your lips with his again. he immediately kisses you back and reaches behind you to undo your top, which quickly comes off and jj’s eyes land on your breasts. he takes them both in his hands and leans over you to suck your nipple, making you shiver.

you occupy your own hands with his belt, fumbling with the clasp until it’s undone and pulling it through the loops.

he pulls himself away from your tits and starts undoing the zipper before his eyes meet yours.

“you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks.

“i wouldn’t be fully naked in front of you right now if i wasn’t.” you joke.

he gets up from the bed to take his shorts off and look around the room, presumably for a condom.

“john b’s gotta have some around here, hold on.” he says, opening up the top drawer of the dresser and rummaging through the pairs of socks and underwear.

“you don’t have to, jay.” you say, but he doesn’t listen, still looking inside the dresser for any small, silver packages. “i’m on birth control.”

he turns around cocks his head at you.

“what?” you question. “makes my periods lighter.” you shrug.

“i’m still pulling out though.” he says before he walks back to the edge of the bed and slides his boxers off, revealing his achingly hard cock. you visibly got nervous at his length, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. jj notices the redness in your face and gets into the bed, pushing hair out of your face with his fingers. “i’ll stop if it’s too much, just tell me.” you nod, anxiously and he positions himself on top of you, stroking his cock a few times before you feel his tip at your entrance. his eyes meet yours for confirmation and you give him a nod.

his cock slowly pushes into you, not even an inch as he doesn’t want to hurt you. you shut your eyes hard, preparing for it to hurt, but you feel barely any pain. he kisses your neck and pushes himself in a little farther.

“this feel okay?” he asks against your skin.

“feels good, j.” your hands find their way to his back again.

once he bottoms out, you feel a slight pressure at your cervix before he slowly starts moving, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.

you hear jj moan in your ear from the painfully slow strokes he was taking, trying to keep himself from going too fast for you. his cock rubbed against your g-spot and you kiss the area in between his collar and neck.

“i’m okay jj.” you reassure him. “faster, please.”

he picks up the pace and continues kissing your neck. your nails dig into the skin of his back.

“you feel so good” he moans. “doin’ so good for me- fuck.” he didn’t even realize what he was saying, but you enjoyed the hell out of it. his praises added to the pleasure of him inside you.

he was going fast enough now that you could hear your skin hitting against each others as your hips connected. every thrust was stroking your sweet spot and you were pretty sure you were leaving scratches on his back, but jj felt too good to even notice.

he leaned back a little so that all his weight was on his knees and his back was straight as he grabbed one of your legs for support and used his other hand to rub your clit at the same time he was fucking you. the double stimulation illicited a loud moan from you that encouraged jj to keep going, almost nearing his end.

his thrusts were getting sloppier and his breathing was heavier but he wanted to make you finish before him. your chest heaved, feeling the new sensation of him filling you up at the same time as his fingers worked on your clit. the pressure was building up and you knew you were close. you suddenly pulled him against you so that your chests were pressed against each others.

“fuck- jj” you moaned. “m’so close.”

his heavy breathing sounded like heaven to you as he started to fuck you even harder, his cock sliding perfectly in and out of you.

“sweetheart” he moaned into your neck. “m’not gonna last much longer.”

almost immediately after he said those words, you felt the band in your stomach snap as you came around his cock, squeezing and pulling him deeper inside you. you cried out his name as he fucked you through your second orgasm.

“fuck, baby-“ he pulled out of you and stroked his cock that was slick with your wetness. you watched his face contort in pleasure, his eyes barely open and his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed. his cum shot onto your stomach and tits.

he tried not to stare too long at the mess he made of you, realizing almost as soon as he finished that this was a one time thing he may never get you like this again.

he got out of the bed and grabbed a shirt of the floor, which he cleaned you up with and tossed it.

“you okay?” he asked again.

you rolled your eyes.

“how many times are you gonna ask that?” you scoffed. “i liked it, j. don’t know how my date’s gonna top that.” you joked.

then, jj remembered that this was all practice for you to go and have sex with another guy and he suddenly felt sick. he pulled his boxers back on and picked up your articles of clothing from the floor and tossed them to you.

the truth is, you didn’t even want to go on that date anymore. not after the way jj took care of you.

“hey, jj!” a voice, john b’s, ripped through the chateau and both of your eyes widened, looking at each other with panic. “you home?”

you swiftly put your bottoms and shorts back on in under 30 seconds and shrugged yourself into your flimsy shirt while jj was putting his belt back on. you quickly exited john b’s room before he could see where you both came from and you nervously greeted him in the living room to see that sarah and kie were home as well.

“heyy, jb.” jj said, awkwardly.

“what have you two been doing all day?” john b asks.

kiara walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer and when she turned around, she noticed the marks on jj’s back. she paused in her steps.

“jj, what’s with all the scratches on your ba-“ and then she realized. her face contorted in disgust. “ewwww, are you guys fucking serious?”

your face grows hot with embarrassment and you wanted to dig a whole to die in, but john b seems barely faced as he walked past you, saying something near you.

“at least you made that boy’s dreams come true.”



[uluvjay]

Guys my age- L.Hamilton

Lewis Hamilton x fem Schumacher! Reader

In which your boyfriend can’t seem to satisfy you the way you need, landing you in the hands of someone much more experienced

Warnings?; SMUT; Age gap!(reader is 25), reader is also Charles girlfriend!, physical cheating, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex(wrap it before u tap it!), p in v, fingering(f receiving), nipple play.

Not really sure how I feel about this but I hope you enjoy!

Your hadn’t intended for Lewis to overhear the conversation with your brother’s girlfriend, it was quit embarrassing to have someone catch you talking about the fact that your boyfriend hadn’t gotten you off in months but here you were.

Laila had noticed the tension in your shoulders as of Late and the way you always seemed to be frustrated, but she didn’t want to overstep.

That was until she saw your frustrated frame exiting the Ferrari motorhome and stomping into the Mercedes hospitality. Quietly following you she found you sat in a far corner with a bottle of water and pout on your lips.

“Are you okay?” She questioned sitting next to you.

With a huff you thought about lying but you couldn’t take this anymore, Charles hadn’t been satisfying you in the slightest and you hadn’t shared your building frustrations with anyone.

“Me and Charles are having some…issues” you shrugged.

“Oh? Are you guys arguing?” She kindly asked.

“Uh no…I-it’s more you know, sex related” you whispered.

“Oh!” She blushed with a small smile.

“I’m sorry Laila, you definitely don’t wanna hear about my issues regarding my sex life” you blushed as well.

“No, it’s okay! I’m assuming you haven’t talked to anyone about it and I can tell somethings been bothering you, so spill. I’m all ears” she smiled, moving her chair closer to yours.

However what you had managed to miss in your small annoyance filled haze was the Brit sat at the table behind yours.

Lewis had been quietly enjoying his lunch when he watched you storm inside, face red and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He watched you purchase the bottle of water and slump down in a chair at the table in front of him.

He was never one to eavesdrop but hearing your say that Charles wasn’t satisfying you in the way you needed caught his attention and for some reason he couldn’t turn his attention away.

You were a good bit younger then the him, and maybe he’d read the signals wrong but there was always tension between the two of you since Mick had joined Mercedes.

Between your sweet hugs and lingering touches every time you passed by him, you had him going crazy. It didn’t help that He always found himself locked in conversations with you when you would hang around the garage.

You loved hearing about the car and all the new adventures he and Roscoe had been on while he was home, and he enjoyed hearing you talk about university and how your Major was going.

You’d also be lying if you said the way his hand lingered on your lower back after a hug didn’t make you feel butterflies in your stomach, or that you didn’t find yourself watching his ink covered hands more often then not.

There was no lie that Lewis was a beautiful man, everyone knew it. And yes you’d caught yourself staring at the man a lot but you loved Charles, and you’d never betray him like that. Well that’s what you told yourself until the older man had you pinned against the door of his drivers room.

-

“Lewis!” You called turning down the hallway you’d seen him disappear down.

The man turned at the sound of you calling his name, a smile over taking his face as he watched you open your arms to embrace him.

“I wanted to tell you congratulations, I didn’t catch you outside” You spoke into his shoulder as your hands went around his neck, and his took place around your waist.

“Thank you darling” he replied placing a kind kiss to the side of your head.

“Of course! You did amazing, and it was wrong of the team to leave you hanging out there” you whispered to the taller man, not wanting anyone from the team to hear.

“Ehh, not to upset about it. Just happy I was able to secure a podium” he smiled looking down at you.

You two held eye contact for a moment, hands still lingering on each others bodies with no intention of moving them.

“I..uh” you stuttered as you finally moved your eyes to ground at the feeling of a blush began to scatter your cheeks and you felt the deep throb in your core.

“You should what sweetheart?” He teased

“I uh should head back to Ferrari, think Charles and Carlos wanted to go out to celebrate the win.” You shyly spoke attempting to take a step back but his hold on your waist stayed.

“Ahh, Charles right.” He nodded before patting your hip and pulling his hand away, taking a step back.

“Have fun darling, hopefully you’ll be able to Cum tonight” he smirked as your distancing frame turned back around so quick he was scared you’d fall.

“What?” You spoke, mouth drying instantly.

“Weren’t very quite In hospitality today love, heard ever bit of your rant to Laila. Heard how no matter what he does he just can’t seem to make you finish, such a shame really. A woman like you deserves to be having so many orgasms that you have to beg for him to stop” he teased with a faux pout on his lips.

“Lewis-I, you weren’t supposed to hear that” you whispered yelled at the man as you walked closer to him.

“Oops” he shrugged before turning and making way into his drivers room, a smirk forming on his face as he heard your light footsteps following.

It was like your feet were moving on their own accord, quickly following behind him and shutting his drivers room door as you entered.

You kept yourself pinned against the door as he sat his helmet down on a table and began to remove his fireproofs. A breath got caught in your throat at the sight of him pulling off his undershirt, revealing his ink covered back.

“Why don’t you take a picture darling?” He teased as he turned back to face you.

“I-” you tried speaking out a snappy reply but the feeling of his body growing closer and closer to yours had you shutting up.

“You what?” He asked quietly as his hands found a home on your waist again.

“Nothing” you quipped, mind already blanking due to the warmth his hands were providing on your body.

He reached a hand up to cup your face, smiling when you leaned into it.

“Tell me, what’re we going to do here Y/n? You want me to fuck you? Take care of you the way a woman deserves to be taken care of? Or are you going to go back to you boyfriend and pretend this never happened?” He lightly questioned.

You thought about it for a moment, you really did. You loved Charles but it was no lie that over the past few months things had been different, you two didn’t touch each other the same and when you did he couldn’t even get you to the end. And it wasn’t really betrayal if he had already been meeting up with that art major from Paris, so you said fuck it.

“I want you to fuck me lewis, give me what I deserve” you whispered in his ear.

One sentence was all it took for his inked hand to slip from your cheek down to your throat and his lips to slam against yours. The kiss was quick and messy, full of clashing teeth and tongue’s fighting for dominance but you loved every second of it.

Your hands found his braids, lightly tugging causing a groan to escape the man’s throat. Your own sounds starting to escape from your throat as his lips began their descent down your neck.

He smirked against you skin when he heard your small whine as his teeth nipped at the spot below your ear.

“Lew, no marks please” you whimpered out.

“Mhm” he grumbled before his lip’s reattached to yours and his hands slipped down your thighs before tapping the back of them, signaling for you to jump.

A gasp of surprise left your lips when his hands gripped your ass under your sundress rather then your thighs. He kept his hold on you as we walked the two of you to the small couch he had in his room, laying you down against the leather as he hovered over you.

“So pretty baby” he praised, his eyes ranking over your flushed body. Your dress had ridden up exposing the pretty white lace you were wearing under your dress. A groan escaped Lewis’s throat at the sight of the delicate material, running a finger under the band he snapped it against your skin, earning a whine from you.

He rolled your dress up the rest of the way allowing him to see the wet spot that had formed on your panties.

“So wet for me, huh baby?” He teased with a smirk as he slowly moved the lace to the side, growling at the sight of your dripping folds.

“All for you sir” you shot back as your own smirk took over your face at his warning look.

“Little bit of a brat aren’t you baby?” He spoke reaching over to pinch your thigh.

You nodded in reply, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as he began to trail his fingers where you needed them most.

“Oh! You gasped as he ran one through your folds, his touch was new and unfamiliar and you could feel your body craving for more of it.

He worked you slowly, starting with small rubs to your clit before journeying a finger down to your entrance and slipping inside. He could watch the sight of your thrown back head all day everyday.

“Lewis” you whimpered his name as his finger began speeding up, “please add another” added in a light plea for the man to give you just a bit more.

Giving you what you asked he slipped another finger inside and began scissoring said fingers at a fast pace, loving the way you threw your eyes were rolling for him.

He continued to work you for a while, fingers moving at an unforgiving pace as his thumb came and went against your clit and his mouth spilled dirty words at you, all helping to push you closer and closer to the edge you hadn’t been at in months.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come Lewis, please let me cum” you begged the older man, opening your eyes to meet his dark ones.

“Go ahead baby, come for me” he gave permission.

Your body shook at the feeling of your orgasm washing over you for the first time in what felt like ages. A mix of German and English spilled from your mouth as Lewis continued to work you through your high, not stopping until you we’re attempting to push his hand away.

A whine escaped your mouth as you watched him slip his glistening fingers into his mouth, a low groan escaping him at the taste.

“Taste so good princess” he smiled

You pulled him down into another kiss, a whimper escaping you at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You hands reached down to push down his underwear and finally free his aching cock.

You pulled away from his mouth just in time to watch his length bounce against his lower stomach, a moan breaking free at the sight.

“Want you to fuck me lewis, please” you once again begged the older man.

“Whatever you want pretty girl” he spoke as he stroked himself a few times before running his tip through your folds.

He felt so heavy and warm against you, he was about the same length as Charles just thicker, and you couldn’t wait to feel all of him inside you.

Your fingers dug crescent marks into his back as he slipped inside, his face was buried in your neck allowing you to hear the small whimper that escaped his throat at the feeling of you welcoming him inside.

“Fuck you’re so tight” he groaned, stilling for a moment attempting to give you both a moment to get used to one another.

“You can move now” you breathlessly spoke.

With a small nod you felt him begin to move, he started slowly but after a moment he set a steady pace that had your eyes rolling back.

He felt so fucking good, you could feel every single ridge and vein on his cock, the way he filled you up had you barley able to breathe.

Lewis wasn’t doing much better, the vice grip you had around him had him ready to cum in seconds and he truly wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last.

“Feel so full Lewis” you cried to the man, locking you ankles around his waist.

“I know baby, doing so good for me” he praised you, his hand finding the hem of your dress, pulling it down to allow your breast to be free.

You whined at the felling of his teeth lightly grazing one of your nipples while a hand worked on the other, pulling and pinching the hardened bud.

One of your hands slipping around the back of his neck to keep him there, while the other ran down his back leaving deep scratches in its wake.

“I’m getting close” you whimpered out as the feeling of stomach got hotter and hotter by the second.

“Me to baby” he replied as he leaned back and moved your legs from his waist to his rest over his shoulders.

The moan that escaped your mouth due to the new position was downright pornographic and had a small giggle coming from the man above you.

“H-holy shit” you moaned, it was all beginning to be to much, the building pressure in your stomach and the way his cock didn’t seem to miss that spot inside of you, reaching a hand out in attempt to push him only resulted in your hand being smacked away.

“Gonna come? I can feel how tight your clenching around me, come on pretty girl” he encouraged as one of his hands slipped down to rub the bud between your legs.

“Lewis!” You all about screamed at the added sensation.

“Ooh, I’m cumming! I’m cumming Lewis” you cried as the dam inside you finally broke and you came all over him, coating his cock in your wetness.

“Oh god” he groaned, the way you were clenching around him and the sharp whines leaving your lips were egging him on.

“Come on Lewis, come for me” you encouraged in his ear, lips working around his neck.

“Fuck, where do you want me to come baby?” He questioned knowing he was seconds away from coming.

“Inside lew, please cum inside of me” you begged him.

And he did just that, face buried in your neck as your hands ranked down his back and he shook above you. Pretty moans and little “oh fucks” escaping from his throat and right into your ear.

He just about dropped right on top of you after he finished coming, placing little kisses where his mouth could reach while you ran a hand up and down his back and placed your own kisses to his head.

You were about to speak up before the sound of knocking and your brother’s girlfriends voice came through the door.

“Uh Lewis, is Y/n in there? We can’t find her”

-

[sycamoregirlsworld]

If I can’t have us.. -L. Castellan

luke castellan x fem! reader

a collection of memories between luke and his girlfriend, because no one understands him but her.

“i’ll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.” -taylor swift

i’m back surprise surprise

The days following the betrayal had been hard for her.

She seemed to be stuck in limbo, she was like a ghost- a husk of herself floating through the day, not knowing where to go or what to feel.

Camp without Luke didn’t seem right, life without Luke didn’t feel right.

The girl sat at the dining pavilion alone, fiddling with the hem of one of his old crewnecks as she averted her gaze from her fellow campers. They eyed her with an expression of wariness, and while it hurt, she didn’t blame them.

The whispers were what cut deep.

I’m not surprised he ran off his Kronos! He always seemed off to me… I’m surprised she didn’t run off without him!

She had been living in her head the past few days to ignore the whispers, thinking of better times to distract from the hurt.

Despite everything, (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to think ill of Luke, unlike her fellow campers.

They didn’t know him like her.

And maybe there was a nostalgic haze clouding her vision, but maybe it was just love.

⋆✦⋆

“Babe, watch my dive!”

(Y/n) sat up from her spot on the rock and frowned as she saw Luke standing on one of the taller rocks.

“That water is really shallow, Luke!” She called back, shielding her eyes from the warm sun.

“It’ll be fine!” He waved her off as he begin to back up slightly, preparing to take a running jump.

(Y/n) bit her lip in fear as she watched him jump off the rock and into the sparkling water, droplets from the splash sprinkling her face.

She breathed out a sigh of relief when he popped out of the water with a boyish grin, shaking the water from his curls like a wet dog. “Did it look cool?” He smiled up at her as he swam closer.

The girl rolled her eyes but couldn’t bite back her smile as she brushed a wet curl from his forehead. Okay yeah, it did look cool. But she wasn’t going to admit that. “You had a good form, I guess.”

“You guess?” Luke scoffed as he grabbed her ankles. “That dive probably could’ve gotten me an Olympic ten!”

“An Olympic ten?” She snorted. “What do you know about an Olymp—” Before she should finish her question, Luke had tugged on her legs and pulled her into the water with a laugh.

And even though she was choking up the water that had went up her nose, (Y/n) hadn’t felt more at peace then in this moment.

⋆✦⋆

“Morning, beautiful.” Luke smiled softly as his girlfriend sat down next to him. “You slept in late.”

(Y/n) frowned and looked at the table, seeing how little food was left. “Probably too late, I missed breakfast.”

Luke sighed dramatically and grabbed her hand. “That really sucks. You have no food, you’re going to starve.”

“Luke—” Her shoulders fell as she looked up at him. “Don’t rub it in.”

It was silent for a moment before Luke pushed a plate towards her, smiling softly. “Yeah, it must suck that your boyfriend didn’t save you any breakfast.”

A sense of pride swelled within his chest as her face lit up at the sight of chocolate chip waffles, her favorite.

Before she grabbed the plate, she pressed a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. “You’re the best.” She mumbled.

Luke laughed fondly before kissing her forehead. “Yeah, yeah. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you starve?”

This was weird for him, but it was a nice kind of weird. With (Y/n) he didn’t feel like Luke Castellan: Best Swordsman in Camp and the  counselor of the Hermes cabin.

He was just Luke. Or, as she liked to call him: babe, baby, dumbass, jerk, or whatever other nickname she came up with.

It all melted away with her. They just felt so… domestic. They werent two demigods who were dealt a bad hand at life when they were with eachother. They were just Luke and (Y/n), and he loved Luke and (Y/n).

⋆✦⋆

Quiet days at Camp Half-Blood were hard to come by.

There was always something going on. Capture the flag, sword training, archery, or other physically strenuous things.

So whenever there was free time to sit around and spend time with eachother, Luke and (Y/n) made sure to take it.

Sure— they practically saw each other every hour of everyday, but most of the time they were sparring.

And (Y/n) wasn’t a fighter.

It’s not that she wasn’t a good fighter, as she had trained with Luke and he made sure she was good, she just didn’t enjoy it.

What she enjoyed most was spending time doing the things she enjoyed, like reading and Luke.

There was an area by the lake they had made their own. It was semi-secluded and far enough away from the shoreline to keep dry but close enough for a pretty view. (Although both would argue that eachother was the prettiest view.)

None of their friends ever found the two in this spot, but it wouldn’t be uncommon for them to be found draped across the picnic blanket, Luke’s head in her lap with her fingers tangled in his hair and the sound of (Y/n)‘s voice struggling through a book.

Luke laughed as he heard his girlfriend mess up another line. He thought it was cute that she enjoyed reading out loud to him, despite her dyslexia.

Currently, she was attempting to read Emma, which was written in older English which made it all that harder for her to read.

But yet she persisted, and Luke admired that about her.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes playfully as pushed his head off her lap. “Don’t laugh. You can’t even read this either.”

Luke frowned as he was pushed off of her lap and sat up. “Why’d you push me off?”

“You’re such a baby..” She mumbled with a smile. “Imagine what everyone would think if they saw you right now.”

The brown haired boy grabbed her chin gently and leaned in closer. “You know I don’t care about that.”

His warm breath fanned her face as he spoke. “I just love you, why wouldn’t I be like this?”

For her, he would mold like clay. Forming to be whatever she wanted whenever she wanted.

Of course, (Y/n) never wanted him to be anything but himself.

And that was even better. She never expected anything but love out of him, and that he was happy to give.

(Y/n) averted her face from him as she bit her lip. “You go so soft around me. Nothing like swordsman Luke.”

“I definitely don’t go soft.” Luke snorted as he pulled her into his lap.

“Luke!” Her face bloomed red as she heard his innuendo. “You’re such a freak.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” He shrugged before leaning forward to connect their lips.

⋆✦⋆

The seventeen year old bit at her nails in anxiety.

She was standing outside the Hermes cabin, debating on whether or not she should go see her best friend.

“What are you doing outside?”

(Y/n) flinched in shock at the sudden noise and turned around, frowning as she saw Luke standing behind her.

“Oh.. sorry, I thought you were inside.” She rubbed at her arm as she looked away, a nervous habit she had picked up.

“Oh? Did you want to see me?” Luke smirked as he leaned against a post, his brown eyes glinting up at her.

“I mean… yeah.” She shrugged as she stepped down to his level. “You know, you’re going on that quest and—”

“Aw, you wanted to wish me luck!” Luke reached down to intertwine their fingers, something normal between the two friends.

“Duh.” She snorted before taking a deep breath. “I also wanted to tell you to be safe. You’ve got people back at camp waiting for you.”

Luke’s cheeks felt warm at her words. Of course him being careful was always the plan, he didn’t want to die on the quest.

And he did have people he wanted to come back to, like her.

“Who are these people?” He covered up his feelings towards her with a teasing smile, running a hand through his brown curls.

He held his breath in anticipation as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. Was this it? Was she finally going to admit that she liked him?

“Annabeth. She’s like your sister, she’d be heartbroken if you left.” (Y/n) said in a hushed tone, knowing that the little girl could’ve been anywhere around camp. “Be safe for her.”

Luke deflated as he heard Annabeth’s name. That can’t be why she came here! He huffed and grabbed both of her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“(Y/n).” He said firmly, looking down at her with hooded eyes. “I find it hard to believe you came here to tell me to be safe for Annabeth’s sake.”

“W-what do you mean?” She asked incredulously. “Why is it hard to believe that I want to to be safe for Annabeth.”

“Because Annie can speak for herself, you know that.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s not the only one who cares about me, is she?”

“Well, of course not..” (Y/n) sighed as she crossed her arms. “I care about you.”

“But you don’t want me to come home to you?”

“L-Luke that’s not— I didn’t mean—” She stuttered as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and frantic.

“Then be selfish for once, ask me to come home for you.” He breathed out as he cupped her face.

The tender way in which he held her contrasted with the roughness of his hands, years of sword fighting causing them to become rugged. It felt right.

(Y/n) gave in as she melted into his touch, it never took much convincing from him for her to break.

“Come home for me.” She whispered as squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Luke. I—”

Luke’s thumb grazed over her cheek as he fought the urge to lean in closer. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll always be here.”

Slowly, Luke tilted her head towards him. “Can I—” He pursed his lips in hesitation. “Can I kiss you?”

⋆✦⋆

It was a miracle. Divine intervention, perhaps.

It wasn’t often that Luke’s team had won against Clarisse’s during capture that flag, but when they did it was a huge deal.

“Babe!” Luke’s boisterous voice yelled as he ran over to his girlfriend. “We won!”

His body slammed into hers as he hugged her tightly, their armor making a clash! as they collided.

“I know! I’m so proud of you.” She beamed up at him as he pulled away. She really was, beating the team that had the Ares cabin on it was always difficult.

(Y/n) squealed happily as Luke picked her up by her waist and spun her around, happy laughs escaping his mouth as he squeezed her.

“Proud of me? I’m proud of you!” He said as he set her down on the ground.

“Oh whatever, you’re the captain.” She leaned up on her toes to give him a peck on his cheek. “I didn’t do much.”

“Is it a crime for me to be proud of my girl?” He smirked and threw an arm around her waist, tugging her closer.

“No.” (Y/n) blushed when he called her his girl, “But you should be more proud of yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “But I like sharing my victory with my girlfriend.”

He leaned down and kissed her, his hands immediately finding their home on her waist.

He didn’t care if his friends thought he was lame for being so openly affectionate towards (Y/n), she was the only one that mattered.

The girl laughed into the kiss as he squeezed her waist. “Luke, we’re still in the middle of everyone.” She mumbled as she pulled away.

Luke looked around at the crowd before smirking.

“Well…” He started as he looked down at her, his eyes hazy and his smile wide.

Before she knew it, Luke had thrown her over his shoulder and began to march out of the field.

“Let’s get out of here!”

⋆✦⋆

[jaeyunluvbot]

i miss you, i'm sorry

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your apartment felt too quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy on your chest. Felix stood in the middle of the living room, his hands in his hoodie pockets, his face unreadable. It was one of the rare times you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that scared you.

“You deserve better than this,” he said, voice soft but firm, tinged with an unfamiliar edge.

“I deserve you,” you argued, your voice cracking. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you didn’t know if it was from anger or heartbreak. Maybe both.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a grimace as he avoided your eyes. “Y/N… I can’t give you what you need. I’m always gone, and when I’m here, I’m still not here. You’ve been patient, more than I deserve, but I see what it’s doing to you.”

Your chest tightened, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I’m not asking for anything else, Lix. I know it’s hard, but I love you, and I thought—” Your voice caught. “I thought you loved me too.”

“I do,” he said, and his voice cracked in a way that made your knees feel weak. “That’s why I’m letting you go.” You could see tears welling up in his beautiful eyes and that made you want to run to him even more, but you hold yourself back, not sure he’d even want you near him.

You watch as he grabs his backpack off the floor, sending one last look at you, sighing when you refuse to meet his eyes, “I’m doing this for you, Y/N, I love you too much to keep doing this to you.”

You finally look into his eyes and he feels his heart splinter into pieces as he sees your red-rimmed eyes, tears slowly falling down your cheeks, “if you loved me, you’d stay.”

He sighs once more and turns away from you, heading towards the door, “I hope you can move on and find someone better, I’ll send the guys to pick up the rest of my stuff later.”

You desperately want to grab him, to scream in his face that he’s hurting you more by leaving, but instead you watch him go, shoulders heaving as you struggle to breathe.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The sound of the doorbell pulled you from the haze you’d been lost in for the past week. For a moment, you debated not answering it. The idea of facing anyone felt unbearable, but the bell rang again, persistent and sharp.

With a deep breath, you wiped at your face, hoping to look somewhat composed, and opened the door.

It was Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, his eyes scanning your face. His usual warmth was shadowed by hesitation, as if he didn’t know how to approach you in this state.

You tightened your grip on the door, leaning against it to steady yourself. “Hi.”

“We, uh… We’re here for Felix’s things,” Hyunjin said, his voice quieter than usual. He glanced over his shoulder, like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

You nodded, stepping back to let them in. The apartment felt too big, too empty without Felix’s presence, even though his things were still scattered around. The members hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, their movements careful, almost reverent.

“Is he okay?” you asked, breaking the silence as they started packing his things into boxes.

Chan looked at you, his expression softening. “He’s… coping, I think. This wasn’t easy for him, Y/N.”

You laughed bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right.”

Hyunjin stopped mid-step, his eyes flickering between you and Chan. Seungmin nudged him gently, silently urging him to keep packing.

“It’s not like that,” Chan said gently, setting down a stack of books. “You know how much he cares about you. He just… he really thought he was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” you echoed, your voice rising. “By leaving me? By letting you all pack up his stuff, he can’t even face me, won’t even give me a say in ending our relationship?”

Chan’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked as lost as you felt. “I tried to talk him out of it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We all did. But he wouldn’t listen. He thought you deserved better.”

“Better,” you repeated, shaking your head. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “He doesn’t get to decide that for me.”

No one had an answer for that, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

Hyunjin was the first to break it, his voice soft. “For what it’s worth, Y/N… he looked just as broken as you do right now. Maybe more.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to turn away before they could see the tears spill over. “Just… take his stuff and go.”

Chan hesitated, but eventually nodded. “We’ll be quick.”

As they carried out the boxes, you couldn’t bring yourself to watch. Instead, you stared out the window, focusing on the city skyline in the distance. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind them that you let the sobs escape, your chest heaving as you crumpled onto the couch.

Somewhere deep down, you wanted them to tell Felix how broken you seemed. Maybe then he’d realize that this “better life” he wanted for you didn’t exist without him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Felix thought throwing himself into work would dull the ache.

Rehearsals became his only reprieve, every movement, every beat, an excuse to avoid the hollow pit in his chest. He stayed at the studio later than anyone else, perfecting choreography that didn’t need perfecting, re-recording verses that were already flawless. The other members noticed, of course they did—they weren’t blind.

“Lix,” Chan said one night, watching Felix push through yet another round of dance practice. The rest of the group had gone home hours ago, but Felix stayed, drenched in sweat, his breaths coming in short gasps as he went through the routine again.

“What?” Felix snapped, the sharpness in his tone unusual but expected.

Chan frowned but didn’t press further. He could see the exhaustion in Felix’s eyes, the weight he carried every time someone mentioned your name.

On stage, Felix was the picture of professionalism, his radiant smile masking the storm raging inside him. Fans screamed his name, but every cheer felt empty. He told himself it was for the best, that this was what you deserved—a version of him you didn’t have to suffer through.

But at night, when the noise died down and the hotel rooms felt too quiet, he’d reach for his phone out of habit. Your contact name stared back at him like a wound that refused to heal. He couldn’t delete it. He couldn’t let go, even though he already had.

Felix watched your Instagram, knowing you’d unfollowed him, but he still scrolled through your old posts, searching for pieces of the life you were living now. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffering because of him, but even the thought of you smiling without him sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

If Felix was drowning himself in work, you were drowning in everything else.

Your days blurred together—wake up, force yourself out of bed, put on a happy face for your friends. Nights were worse. They were quiet, and the emptiness left too much space for your thoughts.

You told yourself not to look. Don’t check his Instagram. Don’t search his name on Twitter. Don’t go down the rabbit hole of fancams and updates from the tour. But your resolve never lasted.

Every night, you found yourself scrolling through endless pictures and videos.

The first time you saw him on stage, glowing under the lights with that smile that had once been yours, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. You stared at the screen, taking in every detail—his expression, his energy, the way he interacted with fans. He looked happy.

But he wasn’t, was he? You knew that smile better than anyone. You could see the cracks if you looked hard enough.

“Y/N, you have to stop,” your best friend said one night, catching you mid-scroll. “This isn’t helping you.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes and setting your phone down. But it didn’t stop. It was a habit you couldn’t break, a lifeline to the person who’d once been your everything.

You replayed your last moments with him over and over, the way he avoided your gaze when he said it was over. The way his voice broke when he told you that you deserved better.

Better.

You weren’t sure what that even meant anymore. All you knew was that you felt worse every day, no matter how hard you tried to rebuild your life.

Even hanging out with friends felt hollow. You laughed, you smiled, but your heart wasn’t in it.

Because no matter how far you tried to move on, a part of you was still stuck in that apartment, watching the love of your life walk away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few months later, the tour was over. Months of grueling travel, sold-out arenas, and sleepless nights had finally come to an end. For the first time in what felt like forever, the members of Stray Kids stepped into the familiar comfort of home.

But for Felix, it didn’t feel like home.

The others were buzzing with excitement, already talking about their plans—family visits, long naps, or eating meals they’d missed during the tour. Felix stayed quiet, dragging his suitcase through the apartment like a ghost.

Chan noticed, of course. He always did.

“Hey, man,” he said softly as Felix sank onto the couch, staring at his phone. “You alright?”

Felix nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Chan didn’t push, but his frown lingered. Felix hadn’t been the same since the breakup, and no amount of screaming fans or bright lights had been able to fix that.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You hadn’t noticed they were back.

You’d stopped checking their social media, stopped asking mutual friends about Felix, stopped torturing yourself with glimpses of a life you were no longer part of. It had taken months, but you’d learned to keep your distance. Deleting most of your social media apps had been the first step to begin healing from your pain.

It wasn’t that you didn’t miss them. You did. The boys had been like family to you at one point. But being around them would only open wounds that had barely started to close.

When your phone buzzed that afternoon, you hesitated before picking it up.

It was a text from Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Hey, we’re back! I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee or something? I miss talking to you.

You stared at the message, your heart twisting. You wanted to respond, to say you missed him too. But you couldn’t.

You set your phone down and ignored it.

A few hours later, another text came through.

Chan: Hey, Y/N. Just wanted to let you know we’re home. Hope you’re doing okay. Let me know if you need anything.

This one was harder to ignore. Chan had always been like an older brother to you, someone you could count on no matter what. But replying meant opening a door you’d worked so hard to close.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Jeongin. You let it go to voicemail.

“Did she reply?” Hyunjin asked, leaning against the counter as Chan checked his phone.

Chan shook his head. “No. I don’t think she will.”

Jeongin frowned, flopping onto the couch. “It’s weird, isn’t it? She used to always be around. It’s like… she’s just gone now.”

“She needs space,” Seungmin said simply, though his tone carried an unspoken sadness.

Felix sat silently in the corner, his phone clutched in his hands. He hadn’t reached out—not yet. He knew you wouldn’t respond. Why would you? He was the reason everything had fallen apart.

“She’s doing what she needs to do,” Chan said, though even he looked unsure. “We can’t blame her for that.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I feel like we lost her too, you know? Not just Felix. All of us.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of the unspoken truth settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Felix finally looked up, his voice barely above a whisper. “She deserves to be happy. Even if it’s without us.”

No one responded, but the silence said enough.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your friends had insisted you show up to this date, practically dragging you to the salon earlier that day. “You need this,” they said, their voices full of determination. “It’s time to move on.”

So, there you were, sitting across from a genuinely kind guy named Daniel at a fancy restaurant, your hair perfectly styled, makeup flawless, and a little black dress that had you feeling confident for the first time in months.

Daniel was sweet, polite, and easy to talk to. You learned he’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship too—his ex had left him, and while he was still nursing the sting of it, he was trying to move forward.

You bonded over heartbreak and the awkwardness of starting over. He made you laugh with his dry humor and clever commentary on the overly pretentious menu.

But as much as you liked him, something was missing. No spark. No butterflies. Just… nothing.

You were halfway through dessert, smiling politely as Daniel shared a story about his college days, when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Sorry,” you said, glancing at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but something in your chest tightened. “I should take this.”

“Go ahead,” Daniel said, gesturing for you to answer.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a professional voice asked. “This is ASAN Medical Center. We have a patient named Lee Felix admitted earlier today. You’re listed as his emergency contact.”

Your heart dropped, the words hitting like a punch to the stomach. “What? Is he okay? What happened?”

“He’s stable, but we recommend you come in. We can explain more when you’re here.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you. “I—I’ll be there.”

Hanging up, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Daniel’s concerned expression cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You shook your head, grabbing your purse. “It’s… complicated. I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, smiling gently. “Family emergency?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, standing up. You reached for your wallet, but Daniel stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go.”

You hesitated, then gave him a small, apologetic smile. “Thank you. And… you’re a great guy, really. But I think we both know this isn’t meant to be.”

Daniel chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I felt that too. Go take care of your person.”

The phrase hit harder than it should have, but you didn’t have time to unpack it. You thanked him again and rushed out of the restaurant, your heels clicking loudly against the polished floors.

The taxi ride to the hospital was a blur. Your mind raced with questions, fears, and the nagging ache in your chest that you hadn’t been able to shake since the breakup.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The drive felt like it had taken hours, and by the time you reached the hospital, your hands were trembling, and you weren’t sure if it was from fear, anger, or something else entirely.

The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallways buzzed faintly as you followed the nurse toward Felix’s room. The air was sterile, cold, and too quiet, amplifying the pounding of your heart in your chest.

You felt like you might be sick. Every step felt heavier than the last, memories of Felix flooding your mind. The way he’d smile at you like you were his entire world. The way he’d whispered sweet promises  in the quiet of your shared moments. And the way he’d broken your heart when he told you he wasn’t good enough.

The nurse stopped outside a door, her face kind but indifferent. “He’s in here,” she said softly before stepping away.

You stood frozen, staring at the closed door. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and your stomach twisted painfully. Why am I even here? you thought. But you knew the answer—because even after everything, you cared. You always had, and probably always would.

After a moment of gathering your courage, you pushed the door open.

The sound of the door caught their attention immediately. Chan was seated in a plastic chair near the bed, arms crossed, while Felix was propped up against the pillows, pale and tired but unmistakably himself.

Both their heads whipped toward you.

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was weak, his eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“The hospital called,” you explained, still standing in the doorway. “They said you were admitted, and I’m… I’m still listed as your emergency contact.”

Chan frowned, standing up. “We didn’t expect—”

You cut him off, smiling softly, but clearly a little hurt. “I just… wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

Felix looked down, guilt flashing across his face. “I—sorry. I should’ve removed your name. That was selfish of me.”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, brushing his apology aside. “I just needed to know you were okay.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, scanning your face as if searching for something. “You look… good.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, thanks. I was kind of on a date.”

Felix froze, his expression crumbling before he masked it. “Oh. I—” He stumbled over his words, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for… interrupting your night.”

“It’s fine,” you said again, this time more curtly. “But now that I know you’re not alone, I’m probably going to go.”

You turned to leave, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest and the weight of Felix’s gaze on your back.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Chan jogging to catch up with you. His face was serious, his eyes tinged with urgency.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, stopping just in front of you.

“What, Chan?” you asked, your voice sharp, your emotions fraying. “What could you possibly want to say to me right now?”

He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Please. Don’t let him go.”

You blinked, his words not registering at first. “What?”

“You heard me,” Chan said, his voice quieter now, but no less urgent. “He misses you. I know he does. He’s been miserable this whole time, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “Are you serious right now? He’s the one who ended things. He’s the one who said I deserved better. How can you ask me to fight for something he didn’t even want to fight for himself?”

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you. But he’s realized how wrong he was. I’m begging you, just… talk to him. Please.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t know if I can. You don’t understand how much it hurt, Chan. How much he hurt me.”

“I know,” Chan said softly. “And I’m sorry. But I also know Felix, and I know he loves you. He’s just scared. And if you walk away now, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive himself—or me—for letting you go.”

You hesitated, his words gnawing at the walls you’d built around your heart.

“Just talk to him,” Chan pleaded. “If nothing else, you deserve to say what you need to say. Please.”

After a long moment, you exhaled shakily. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect anything, Chan.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said, relief washing over his face. “Thank you.”

With trembling hands and a storm of feelings swirling in your chest, you turned back toward Felix’s room, unsure if you were ready for what came next.

You stepped back into the room, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Felix looked up, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was startled, as if he hadn’t expected you to come back. Chan shot you a quick glance, then slipped out silently, leaving the two of you alone.

The door clicked shut, and the tension in the room was suffocating. You crossed your arms, standing by the door, unsure where to start.

“Why?” you finally said, your voice harsher than you intended. “Why now?”

Felix blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

You laughed bitterly, taking a few steps closer to the bed. “I mean, why are you doing this now? After months of silence, after breaking me into pieces and leaving me to pick them up on my own, why now? Why drag me back into this?”

He looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket draped over his lap. “I didn’t mean to drag you into anything,” he said quietly. “I didn’t even know they’d call you. But seeing you here…” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “It just made me realize how much I miss you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You miss me? That’s rich, Felix. Where was that when I was crying myself to sleep every night? Where was that when I begged you to stay, when you left me?”

He flinched, your words hitting him like a slap. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret.

“The right thing?” you repeated, your voice rising. “The right thing would’ve been to fight for us! But instead, you gave up, Felix. You left me.”

His hands clenched the blanket, his knuckles white. “I know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I thought I was protecting you. I thought you deserved someone who could give you more than I could.”

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me? How much it hurt to see you everywhere and know I wasn’t part of your life anymore?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I miss you, Y/N. I miss everything about you. And the thought of you with someone else…” He looked up at you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It kills me.”

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get to say that, Felix. You don’t get to come back now, when I’ve finally started to put myself back together, and tell me you miss me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice desperate. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I can’t go another day without trying. I love you, Y/N. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

You looked away, his words cutting through your defenses. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to even think about moving on?” you said, your voice trembling. “I was starting to feel okay again. And now you’re here, saying all of this, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Felix pushed himself up slightly, wincing but determined. “I know it’s unfair,” he said, his voice stronger now. “But I’m asking you to let me make it right. I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I swear I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. Just… please.”

Your chest heaved as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. Part of you wanted to walk out and never look back, to protect yourself from more heartbreak. But another part of you, the part that still loved him despite everything, wanted to stay.

“Do you mean it?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Do you really mean it this time?”

Felix’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “With everything I have.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged. Then, finally, you let out a shaky breath. “If we do this again,” you said, your voice firm, “you don’t get to run. No more deciding what’s best for me without talking to me first. We fight for it, no matter how hard it gets. Got it?”

A tear slipped down Felix’s cheek, but he smiled—a real, hopeful smile. “Got it.”

You sighed, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. “Okay. Let’s try again.”

Felix reached for your hand, his touch warm and familiar. And for the first time in months, you let yourself hope.

You don’t end up going home that night, falling asleep in the hard plastic hospital chair, only waking up when the nurses knocked softly on the door to let you know that Felix was free to leave.

The two of you take a cab to your place, immediately crawling into your bed together, the memories held in your apartment no longer feeling like a crushing weight over you, but a reminder that the two of you can work it out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

masterlist.

[kaleldobrev]

Please Don't Leave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean

Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”

The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.

The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.

Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.

“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).

“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.

“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.

“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”

“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.

You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.

“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.

Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.

He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.

A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.

“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.

“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.

“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.

“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.

“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.

The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.

He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.

That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.

Someday maybe, he thought.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!

[blackenedsnow]

um i have a request for shadow the hedgehog, can we just have him with a s/o whos just kinda shut down upset and not feeling like themselfs. He hasnt seen them in a few weeks and finally comes over to see how they well really need him and just didnt know how to ask for it. Sorry if this is werid been not so great myself and shadows my comfort character.

when the silence breaks

WARNING: Themes of depression, emotional distress

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: Hey, no need to apologize at all! I hope you’re doing okay and that this brings you some comfort. Take care of yourself, and don’t hesitate to reach out whenever you need. Sending you lots of love, and thank you so much for requesting! I hope this helps in some way <3

SUMMARY: Shadow hasn’t seen you in weeks. When he finally checks in on you, he finds you shut down

It had been weeks since you'd heard from him.

Days bled into one another in a haze of muffled thoughts, the outside world feeling distant and blurred. You had pulled away—retreated into your own head, shutting out everything, even the things that once brought comfort. Even him. Not because you wanted to, but because… well, what could you say? The words were stuck somewhere deep inside, unable to find their way out, and you were too exhausted to chase after them.

You hadn’t meant to disappear like this.

But now, the knock at my door echoed through the empty room, breaking the quiet you had surrounded yourself with. At first, you didn’t move. You couldn’t. It was like your body had forgotten how. But the second knock came, sharper this time, more insistent.

“Open up.”

His voice.

You knew that voice anywhere. Low, commanding, with a quiet intensity that always seemed to cut through the noise in your mind. Shadow.

For a moment, you thought about staying where you were, curled up in bed, hiding from the world like you'd been doing for what felt like forever. But something in his tone – a rare flicker of concern beneath the usual strength – made you force yourself to move. Your legs felt like lead as you dragged yourself to the door, your hand trembling as you reached for the knob.

The door creaked open, and there he was.

Shadow stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, his crimson eyes scanning over you with a sharpness that made your heart ache. You knew what he was seeing – the hollow look in your eyes, the weight you were carrying but trying so hard to hide. You didn’t need a mirror to know how broken you must have seemed.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt heavy, but not unbearable. It was the kind of silence that always lingered with Shadow – not because he was cold or distant, but because he didn’t waste words. When he spoke, it mattered.

“You’ve been gone,” he said quietly, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement – simple, factual, but carrying a weight of its own.

“I…” Your voice was hoarse, as if you hadn’t used it in days. And maybe you hadn’t. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what else to say. How could you explain that you'd been drowning in your own head, that the world had felt like it was too much and not enough all at once? That you didn’t know how to reach out, even though you needed him more than you could admit?

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a soft click. His presence filled the room, bringing with it a strange sense of both comfort and unease. He was here now – really here – and you didn’t know if you were ready for him to see you like this.

“You didn’t have to be alone.” His words were blunt, but there was an underlying softness that only you seemed to hear. His eyes softened just slightly, a subtle shift that most people wouldn’t catch. But you knew him. You knew how much he held back – how much he cared in his own quiet way.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

The truth felt raw in your throat, like it had been lodged there for weeks, waiting for this moment. You had wanted to call him, to tell him that you weren't okay, that you needed him. But the words had never come. And now, standing here in front of him, you felt ashamed for pushing him away when he was the one thing you needed most.

Shadow took a step closer, closing the distance between you. He didn’t say anything, but his presence alone seemed to fill the space with an unspoken understanding. He wasn’t the type to offer empty platitudes or false reassurances. He didn’t need to. Just knowing he was there – that he chose to be there – was enough.

“You don’t have to ask,” he finally said, his voice low but firm. “I’m here.”

Something inside you broke at those words. The walls you had built around yourself, the silence you had wrapped yourself in – it all crumbled in an instant. A sob rose in your throat, and before you could stop yourself, you collapsed into his chest, your hands gripping his arms as you buried your face against him.

He didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around you, firm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else could. His hand rested on the back of your head, holding you close as you trembled against him, your tears soaking into the soft fur of his chest. He didn’t flinch or pull away. He just held you, his presence unwavering.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush of guilt and exhaustion. “I didn’t mean to disappear. I just… I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to…”

“Stop.” His voice was quiet but firm, a single word cutting through your rambling. “You don’t need to explain.”

You swallowed hard, your body still shaking with the weight of everything you'd been holding in. The world had felt so dark, so overwhelming, and you hadn’t known how to pull yourself out of it. But with Shadow here, it was like a lifeline had been thrown to you in the midst of the storm.

“I should’ve come sooner,” he muttered, his grip tightening just slightly. There was a rare note of regret in his voice, something you didn’t often hear from him. “I should’ve known you needed me.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head against his chest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t… I didn’t even know how to ask for help.”

Shadow let out a soft breath, his hand gently stroking your head. “You don’t have to ask. I’ll always be here.”

His words were simple, but they meant everything. He wasn’t the type to give grand speeches or make dramatic declarations of love. But in that moment, you knew. You knew that he was here, not just because he cared, but because he understood. He understood what it felt like to be lost, to feel like you couldn’t reach out even when you needed it most.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with an intensity that made my chest tighten. “I won’t let you fall.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. It wasn’t that everything was suddenly okay – you knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. But with Shadow here, you didn’t feel so lost anymore.

Shadow was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

[lacydollette]

⋆˙⟡ BLESSING IN DISGUISE ⋆˙⟡

CHAPTER SIX

PAIRING rafe cameron x lovely kook!reader x jj maybank

WARNING(S) trauma, flashbacks, alcohol, mentions of drug abuse, verbal fights, rafe being a dick, suggestive content, explicit language, angst, slight fluff between reader and jj

SUMMARY after days of painful silence, with Rafe pulling away and you still drowning in the aftermath of the incident, the annual bonfire becomes the breaking point. unable to hold back any longer you confront him, but rafe’s cold, detached demeanor cuts deep, leaving your heart in pieces.

“Waah, john b stop!!” Sarah screeched as her boyfriend chased after her, running around the sand like little kids. Oh, they were so in love. jj was nursing on a half-empty beer bottle leaning back in the sand like he didn’t have a care in the world. Everyone looked relaxed, like the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on their shoulders.

Everyone except you.

You sat a little off to the side, poking at the sand with a stick, dragging lazy patterns that the waves would eventually wash away. Your head felt fuzzy, likeyou were watching everything through a haze, the sounds of Sarah’s giggles and crashing waves muffled and far away. You knew you should be here, should be present, but you weren’t . You were somewhere else—thoughts still messy after the incident with Nate a few nights ago.

Of course the lack of your usual sunshine smile and teasing behavior didn’t go unnoticed, reverting back to the pogues questioning you and asking if you were really okay. You weren’t. But somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to them about it. Cause if you were to talk about it, you also had to talk about Rafe. And you couldn’t.

It wasn’t fair, but your brain kept circling back to him. The way he’d looked at you that night, torn between fury and guilt, like the whole thing was his fault. And maybe it was, in some sick and twisted way, but you couldn’t let yourself go there. Not again.

Suddenly jj’s smooth voice broke through your dissociative haze, “Yo, earth to y/n,” his laugh cutting through your spiraling thoughts like a knife. You blinked, looking up just in time to see him toss a beer to john b, who caught it with a slick motion. JJ’s grin was infectious, his whole face lighting up like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. For a second, you felt your lips twitch, almost smiling. Almost.

“You good over there, sunshine?” JJ asked, leaning back on his elbows to look at you, his blue eyes practically glowing under the late afternoon sun. “You’ve been, like, a hundred miles away all day.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He pushed himself up, brushing the sand off his hands as he scooted closer, closing the distance between you until he was right next to you. “Tired? Or, like, tired tired?”

“What’s the difference?” You asked, your voice coming out sharper than you meant it to. JJ didn’t flinch, though. He just tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t figure out. His hand brushed against your knee—not in a creepy way, just JJ being JJ, always touchy, always close. And usually, you didn’t mind. But today, it made your skin prickle, like you were too aware of everything.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer this time. You forced a smile, knowing he wouldn’t let it go until you gave him something. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a huge fight with my parents yesterday. You know how it is.” JJ made a face, clearly skeptical but not wanting to push. “Parents suck,” he muttered, leaning back again. “Tell ‘em JJ Maybank says to chill out, or I’m coming over.”

That finally got a real smile out of you, small and fleeting, but real. JJ grinned, clearly proud of himself, before turning his attention back to sarah and john b. But even as the conversation shifted, as JJ joked and teased and kept the energy light, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being… disconnected.

It wasn’t just Nate, the incident or the weird distance you felt with your friends lately. It was Rafe. You two hadn’t spoken since that night. Not a single text, not a glance, not even one of those tense run-ins you always seemed to have. He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d came, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t held you while you were shaking, hadn’t promised to keep you safe.

It hurt. And while you had slowly tried to piece yourself back together, he had distanced himself from you further. Rafe thought it was his fault—just like he thought everything was his fault. The fight at Midsummers, the way you’d both blown up at each other, the reason you were even out that night in the first place. In his mind, he’d set the whole thing in motion, and now he was punishing himself for it.

The images were haunting him at night, you, crumpled in the dirt, nates bloody face gasping underneath him. The fear in your eyes. And worst of all—himself, standing there, realizing it was all his fault. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How it all traced back to him, like a sick domino effect.

He tried drowning his thoughts with the usual, alcohol and coke. It hit hard and fast, just how he liked it, but it didn’t do much to quiet the voice in his head—the one telling him that you’d be better off without him. That was why he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t tried to see you since that night. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. God, he wanted to. Every time his phone buzzed, every time he heard a car door slam outside, his heart jumped, hoping it was you. But he didn’t deserve to see you.

Because this was just like before. Every time he got close to you, every time he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for you, he proved himself wrong. He was like poison, toxic and consuming, dragging you down with him no matter how hard he tried not to.

So, he stayed away. He told himself it was for your own good, that he was doing the right thing, even if it felt like hell. But the silence was unbearable. And that’s why he was going in and out of every bar on the island—spending almost every night in places like that, drowning in alcohol, drugs, and meaningless noise. He thought maybe if he leaned into the chaos hard enough, he could lose himself in it. He thought maybe he could forget. But it wasn’t working.

He couldn’t stop picturing the way you’d looked at him that night—so broken, so fragile, but still trusting him enough to let him carry you home. The way your hands had trembled as you patched up his knuckles, comforting him while you were the one hurting.

The way you’d pulled back, hesitated, like you didn’t know if you could let him in again. And who could blame you? He’d screwed up too many times to count. He wasn’t sure why you’d ever let him in to begin with. He hated himself for what had happened to you, hated himself for not being there sooner. But mostly, he hated that even after everything, some selfish part of him still wanted you.

Wanted to see you, hold you, to tell you he’d do better this time—even though he didn’t know if he could. But that part of him was buried under the guilt, the anger, the deep rooted belief that he didn’t deserve you. That he never had. So, he stayed here in the dark, hiding between drinks and strangers, telling himself it was better this way.

For you. For both of you. Even if it was killing him.

The gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you walked to the annual bonfire, the kind of event that blurred the lines between Kooks and Pogues. It was the one night that made everyone forget the labels, at least for a little while. You were standing with the Pogues, tucked close to JJ as his arm casually looped around your shoulders. His warmth was comforting, familiar even, and for the first time today, you let yourself relax into it.

But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the moment—on JJ’s laugh echoing through the crowd or Kie’s attempts to roast a marshmallow without setting it on fire—your eyes kept wandering, scanning the crowd like your body couldn’t help but search for him.

Where is he?

You told yourself you were just curious. That’s all it was. But deep down, you knew better. It was like he’d vanished entirely, except you could still feel the weight of him pressing against your chest every time you closed your eyes. And then you saw him.

Rafe was standing near the edge of the crowd, a bottle in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. He looked the same but different—his jaw tense, his shoulders hunched like he was holding something back. And just then eyes caught yours across the fire, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Every part of Rafe screamed at him to stay away, to let you have the life you deserved, but when your pretty doe eyes pierced through his, the air was sucked from his lungs. For a moment, everything else disappeared—the music, the voices, even the ache in his chest. All he could see was you. You felt your body temperature rise, cheeks burning up. The pull of him was undeniable. It always was. You needed to talk to him.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” you mumbled to the group, pulling away from JJ’s arm. “I’ll come with you,” the blonde offered, his voice easy, like he didn’t notice the shift in you. “No, I’m good. Be right back.” JJ shrugged, distracted by Pope’s latest story, and you slipped away before anyone could stop you.

Your feet carried you in the direction of Rafe, each step faster than the last. By the time you found him, he was leaning against the side of a column. Yet you hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach as you reached closer.

“Rafe,” you said, your voice cutting through the noise of the bonfire behind you. His eyes flicked to yours, forcing his features into something cold, detached, hoping it would keep you at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Why are you hiding out over here?” He let out a hollow laugh, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. Your boldness had always disarmed him, even now. Especially now. “Not hiding. Just avoiding the circus.”

“Avoiding me, you mean.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed, his gaze dropping to the ground. Don’t do this. Don’t let her in, he thought. “Maybe you should take the hint.” His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. “You don’t get to do this, Rafe. You don’t get to disappear and act like nothing happened.”The flash of hurt in your eyes nearly killed him, but he held firm. Better to push you away now, before he dragged you down with him.

“Nothing did happen,” he snapped, the lie lingering bitter on his tongue as he was still avoiding your eyes. “What is your problem, Rafe?” you sighed, the frustration in your voice obvious. “One day you promise me that you’ll keep me safe, that you would stay by my side and now you can’t even look at me?”

Rafe laughed, but it wasn’t the kind you remembered. It was bitter, empty. “Look who’s talking. You seemed pretty cozy with jj back there.” He hated the words even as he said them, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was easier to let anger take over than to admit the truth—to admit he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you.

Your mouth fell open, stunned by his accusation. “Are you serious right now? JJ’s my friend. He’s just—”

“Sure he is,” Rafe cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “this is how you thank me? By fucking around with a Pogue?” Your chest tightened, tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “Go to hell, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

But then you noticed it—the red rim around his eyes, the way his body trembled faintly like he was barely holding himself together. It wasn’t just the alcohol in his hand. He was using again, spiraling. But before you could say anything, JJ’s voice cut through the tension. “Hey! What the hell are you doing talking to her?”

You turned to see JJ storming toward you, his face dark with anger. He stepped between you and Rafe, his chest puffed out like he was ready to fight. “Back off, JJ,” Rafe said, his voice low but dangerous. “Or what?” JJ snapped, his fists clenching at his sides, “She’s with us now. Stay the fuck away from her.”

“y/n is not a damn possession,” Rafe snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”

“Oh, and you do?” JJ sneered. “At least I don’t fuck up everyone I get close to.” The words hit their mark. Rafe’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, his voice trembling with barely-contained rage. “You don’t know anything about me, Maybank.”

“Yeah? I know enough,” JJ shot back. “Like how you treat everyone like shit, especially the people who actually care about you.” Rafe wanted to hit back, to make JJ feel even a fraction of the pain he carried every second. But then your voice cut through the chaos.

“Enough!” you shouted, stepping between them, trying to cut the tension between the boys while no one seemed to notice the rising tension between you and Rafe except Sarah, who was standing a little further away, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold.

Rafe turned his attention back to you, his face twisting with anger and something deeper—something like pain. “You don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice cracking. “You’d be better off without me.”He saw the way his words cut you, saw the way you fought to keep your composure, not being able to look away from him. But it was true. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. And the only way to protect you was to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Let’s go,” JJ said, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “He’s not worth it.” You let JJ pull you away, your mind spinning as Rafe’s words echoed in your ears. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught one last glimpse of him—standing alone, his body stiff like he was trying to hold himself together.

Sarah was looking at you as you returned, her brows furrowed as she pieced everything together. You knew she’d ask questions later, but for now, you let JJ lead you back to the group, his warmth steadying you even as your heart ached for the boy you couldn’t seem to leave behind.

LINKS .ᐟ series’ masterlist

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @littlelamy @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @starzify @rafeysbunny @rafeslacy @whinyangel @dolcekissy @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @drewspinkbunny @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @rafey-baby @cameronsprincess @maybanksbaby @nativegirltapes @lilithblackkk @maybankslover

[earthlyangelbby]

Cupid's Curveball

Chapter 1: The Silas Situation

1.7k words

Sfw All Chapters Next Chapter:2

Summary: A normal hangout takes a turn when you confess you've never had a Valentine and your lack of a date to the Cupid's Ball. Which isn't really Eddie’s scene, but he's very interested in who exactly you want to go with. He gets his answer and while suspicious he decides to help you get the date.

Authors Note: This is set 1986 if Eddie just got to be a normal senior. He's 19, and you're 18 both seniors.

February 7th 1986

Here you were, sitting crisscross applesauce on Eddie’s bedroom floor. The room was dim, with a warm haze hanging in the air, the faint smell of incense mixing with something sharper,  you thought it was the lingering trace of Eddie’s cologne. His walls were covered in band posters and random doodles he’d tacked up, each one so him it made your chest ache. But despite the familiar comfort of the room, you weren’t feeling your typical light and giggly self.

You glanced up at Eddie, lounging on his bed like he didn’t have a care in the world. His curls framed his face, and for a second, you thought about how good his jawline looked from this angle.

“Is this new or something I’ve had before?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

Eddie’s lips trilled like a horse's, and his dark eyes shifted up as if searching the ceiling for an answer. “Uhhh, yeah, this is the same stuff I picked up from Rick like two weeks ago.” He glanced down at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why? Are you not feeling it?”

You shook your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, I’m definitely feeling it.”

He didn’t look convinced. His lips pressed into a line before he asked, “What’s up then? You’re not giggly like you usually are.”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. It felt stupid to say out loud, but the weight of the thought sat heavy on your chest. Finally, you let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. I just kinda feel sad... It’s something stupid.”

Eddie’s expression softened, his usual cocky smirk replaced by genuine concern. He scooched closer, leaning down toward you on the floor. His big, brown eyes met yours, and for a moment, your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat. You weren’t sure if it was the haze or just him, but you felt... safe.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “You can tell me.”

You leaned back on your hands, feeling the soft surface of the carpet against your palms. Throwing your head back, you shut your eyes, hoping the words would sound less ridiculous when you said them aloud. “I’m bummed because I’ve never had a valentine, and I really want one. But that kind of thing is stupid, right? Corporate Hallmark crap, blah blah blah. And no one’s asked me to the Cupid’s Ball yet.” The words spilled out in a rush, followed by a sigh of relief.

Eddie straightened, his eyebrows lifting. He grabbed your shoulders gently, forcing you to sit up and meet his gaze. His touch was firm, but not overbearing, and you couldn’t ignore the warmth of his hands through the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Hey,” he said, his tone low but earnest. “Just because I think it’s all corporate crap doesn’t mean you have to. I can still listen when you talk about stuff. If it means something to you, it means something. Okay?”

He’s saying stuff like, "If it means something to you, it means something." Ugh, stop being so understanding, Eddie! It’s bad enough that I can’t stop thinking about how your hands felt, and now you’re making me think about… other things. Like what it would be like to actually go to that dance with you. Would you spin me around or just sit in a corner, cracking jokes to make me laugh? Ugh, stop it. He doesn’t see me like that. Right? 

You nodded, a little embarrassed now because the way his hands lingered made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t fully understand—or maybe didn’t want to admit.

Eddie let go and sat crisscross in front of you, leaning back against his bed. His movements were casual, but you thought you caught the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a second before speaking. “Just ask someone to the Cupid’s Ball or whatever.”

“I can’t,” you huffed out, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Why not?” His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head in confusion.

You pouted, avoiding his gaze. “The guy is supposed to ask.”

Eddie frowned, and a silence fell between you. He was quiet for a beat too long, and you wondered what was going through his mind. Was he going to say something sarcastic? Was he judging you? Why did she have to look so cute? That little furrow in her brow makes me want to reach out and smooth them away. Is this what liking someone feels like? It’s not like I’ve never noticed her before. I definitely have. But right now she’s sitting there on my floor in my room, and her voice is so soft it’s messing with my head. I could offer to take her to the dance... No, that’s stupid. If she wanted me to, she wouldn’t be upset about it in the first place.

Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little. “Okay, so what if we come up with a plan?”

You frowned, confused. “A plan for what?”

“For you to ask this guy to the dance.” He shrugged casually, trying to ignore the pang in his chest as he said it. “I mean, screw tradition. If you want to go with him, just ask him.”

You bit your lip, unsure. “I don’t know, Eddie. What if he says no?”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then he’s an idiot, and we’ll find someone else to go with you. But seriously, I’ll help you figure out how to ask. It doesn’t have to be some big deal.”

Why does he have to be so sweet? The way he’s leaning in and actually trying to help makes my heart flutter, and I don’t know how to stop it. Is he really just being a good friend, or is this something more? I wish I knew, but I can’t bring myself to ask.

“Okay,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks warm. “What do we do first?”

Eddie grinned, his confidence returning. “First, we figure out what this guy likes. Then we make it impossible for him to say no.

Why does this feel like a punch to the gut? She’s sitting here talking about some guy she likes, and all I can think about is how much I wish it was me. Maybe it’s stupid, but I need to know who it is—it’s like I can’t help myself.  

Eddie tilted his head, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Alright, before we-, you gotta tell me…. Who is this guy, anyway?”  

Panic overtook your body and the only name you could think of was Edward Silas Munson. On repeat in your stupid lovesick brain. “Uh, his name is Silas.” 

Silas? Who the hell is Silas? And why does that name sound familiar? Wait—hold on. That’s my middle name. Is she messing with me?

Eddie blinked, his smirk faltering slightly as he processed what you said. “Silas?” he repeated, tilting his head like he was trying to put the pieces together. “So, uh… where’d you meet this guy?”

 Crap, why did I say that? His middle name was the first thing that came to mind, and now I have to sell this. Keep it together!

“At my volunteer thing,” you said quickly, smoothing your hands over your jeans. “You know, the animal shelter I go to on Sundays? He’s there sometimes, helping out.”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, suspicion flickering in his dark eyes. “Oh, yeah? A guy named Silas, who works with animals? That’s… cool. What else is he into?”

 Why is he asking so many questions? Does he think I’m lying? Oh God, what if he figures it out?

“Um, well… he plays guitar. And he’s into metal,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Really cool guy. Super chill.”

A guy named Silas who plays guitar, loves metal, and works at an animal shelter? That sounds an awful lot like… me. Is she messing with me, or is this some kind of hint? Either way, it’s messing with my head. Maybe not everything is about you Munson. 

Eddie leaned back, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable. “Sounds like a solid dude,” he said, though his voice was quieter than usual. “You want me to help you figure out how to ask him to the dance?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze. “That would be… nice.”

Eddie gave a small nod, though his mind raced. “Alright, let’s figure this out,” he said, his tone low and a little hesitant. “We’ll make sure Silas can’t say no.”

Your heart thudded out of your chest. “How are we gonna do that?” 

Eddie looked up at you, “Give me tonight to think about it. Tomorrow we start, sweetheart.”

The sound of the clock ticking on Eddie’s wall caught your attention, and you glanced at the time. Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh, crap,” you murmured, pushing yourself up off the floor. “It’s almost 11. curfew.”

Eddie stood, stretching lazily before grabbing his keys from the dresser. “Alright, I’ll get you home, princess,” he said with a grin, motioning for you to follow him.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the van filling the space. Eddie tapped his fingers on the wheel, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “So,” he said casually, breaking the silence, “this Silas guy… he better not flake on you for that dance.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Why do you keep bringing him up?”

Eddie smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “Just saying. A girl like you deserves someone who’ll show up, make it a good time, you know? And if he doesn’t, well… I might have to have a word with him.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a lopsided grin, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. “But you still hang out with me. So what does that say about you?”

The warmth in his tone made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t fully understand. As he pulled up in front of your house, you lingered for a moment, fingers brushing the strap of your bag. “Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, his voice gentle but teasing, as though he didn’t want the moment to end either. “See you tomorrow. Rest up. Big plans to make.”

You nodded, stepping out into the cool night air with a heart that felt heavier and lighter all at once.

Thanks for reading :)

I hope you kicked your feet and twirled your hair while reading this chapter

I have a lot of ideas for this series! Let me know what you think

[cum-a-calla]

we already kind of talked about this but…

willa telling roman about this weird new age hypnotism meditation bullshit she does. she thinks it will help him “relax” and get “more in touch with his physical being” and “release him from ego”. okay, rude. he’s, like, already super humble and in tune with himself, but whatever.

roman making his assistant lead him through it (for “the bit” and also to torture them) because there’s no way it could work, right? it’ll just be a funny, totally non-sexual team-building exercise.

uh oh— it works too well.

merry christmas!

merry late xmas.

-

"This is stupid."

You watch Roman sit on his office floor, legs crossed, exasperated at you. That line in his brow carves a grim cast to his expression, glaring at you like you forced him to do this. You take a breath, hands on your knees as you sit across from him. He keeps glancing at the windows, every single blind closed, the door locked. You’re almost positive that as his assistant and his inferior, there is some kind of rule about this - right? Does it matter? Not really. This isn’t the most unorthodox thing you’ve done for him in your brief career.

"I mean... you ASKED me to do this, so -"

"Blah blah blah, I get it, shut the fuck up." He waves your words away, snapping without any real cruelty. He mostly seems tired, like he needs a goddamn nap, maybe a juice box. "Just - okay. I'm just letting you know we look fucking stupid."

“Right. Noted, thank you.”

After finally encouraging him to breathe into his core - and after he cracked off some stupid jokes to dispel his irritating tension - you’ve got him really listening. It feels nice. Taking in all the breaths, loosening your muscles. You manage to keep yourself fairly relaxed while opening your eyes to watch Roman. His eyes are shut, and that crease in his brow is gone. His sharp cheekbones don’t clench down into his jaw; his hands rest on his knees. There are gorgeous lines of veins climbing up from his fingers, through his hands and forearms. They disappear under the rolled sleeves of his dress shirt, clinging to him in such a pleasant way that it only serves you to look away before you’re… not so relaxed anymore.

There are words, soft, whispered - about his safety, his comfort, the ability to melt down into the floor. Be heavy. Sink.

For a moment, you feel like he’s asleep. He’s never so still, so… quiet. The fact that he hasn’t uttered a single joke or smirked or scoffed is unusual, to say the least. You wiggle your fingers under his face, slightly downturned.

“… Roman?” you ask softly. He moves a little, making a soft noise in his throat. Repeating his name, he cracks his eyes open, face gentle, still soft. His lids are so heavy, eyes dilated. Relaxed.

“Mmm?”

You stare back at him for a moment and he maintains eye contact, utterly silent. You smile and he returns in, just a little. Seeing his gentle expression is so uncanny that you utter a laugh, and he smiles only a little bigger, eyes still so heavy. He seems to hover gently in place. It’s almost like he’s drunk, or sleep talking. If he weren’t staring right into your eyes, you’d swear he were unconscious.

“Uh. So… you look… you look pretty loose, Rome.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m warm. Feels nice.”

Unable to help your own curiosity, you reach out to touch his hand and he glances down at it, then back at you, maintaining that stupid little smile. God, he… he looks -

No. Okay. Enough.

He trails his slow, warm fingers over yours, giving you such a light squeeze it has you stifling a gasp. A little one - just a little. Not a big deal. Not a big fucking deal. His eyes… fucking Christ. “Roman?”

“Mmm? Yeah?” His teeth. He’s smiling while talking, tongue running along his canine, lazy, eyes so fucking tired and hazed over. Oh, fuck - no, no, no. No. You can feel the warmth in your face, and thinking about it only makes it worse. Idly, you press the back of your cool hand against a cheek, trying to cool the feverish skin. Roman’s gaze shifts and you freeze. It feels like being a caged animal. It feels like neither of you are in his office anymore, existing in some bizarre twin world - it’s just… not Roman. Not really. He pulls his hand away from yours and reaches up, pressing his palm against your cheek while your eyes go wide. Heart thudding in your chest, pulsing in the tip of your nose and the cartilage in your ears. His pupils distend, yawning open into lovely little portals. Dark. He looks at you, his stare soft. Bedroom eyes. Focused, molten. “You look good like that. I do that to you?”

He sounds fucking drunk. His voice is so breathy and quiet. You swallow. There’s a ringing in your ears - it’s your blood, roaring. His thumb strokes your cheekbone. Somewhere in there is a knowing, a sexy sort of hint. The faintest glimmer of mischief, only a touch of it. No tension in his face. Everything slow, melting into the moment.

“Yeah.” Maybe you’re too relaxed, too. Roman ducks his head, only a moment, grin spreading easy. Toothy. Shy. Fucking shy. When he looks back up, he looks boyishly handsome, hair hanging over his forehead. He leans forward and crawls his fingers up your thighs, spider legs, tickling. So slow. Waiting, taking his time. Relaxed. When he reaches the tender bends of your legs, thighs melting into the soft flesh of your hips, he’s so close you could taste him if you wanted to. He never gives you the chance to find out for yourself - he leans in, pressing the most chaste kiss against your mouth. Eyelids fluttering shut, you return it. His lips are so smooth, his tongue against your top lip as he pulls back - just a lick. Just a little.

That moan can’t be yours, soft as it is. Must have been something else.

Roman giggles a little - a gentle sound, pleased with himself. The proof of his pleasure is evident, pulsing in the buttery-soft material of his tailored slacks.

“Uh… -” The time for words ends. There aren’t any more.

Roman rests his weight on your seated hips as he unfolds his slim legs, smoothly making his way to his knees as his mouth comes back. He’s firmer, but still takes his time; he tastes you, tongue against yours. Your lip gets caught between his teeth and he pulls, but he doesn’t bite hard. He moans into your kiss and it’s over. There was never going to be a chance, and now you’re absolutely fucked. He continues his sensual, patient assault, guiding you to unfold your legs and lie back. The floor, the shitty carpet - none of that matters. None of it registers. Only Roman’s hot breath on your throat as he drags his tongue over your racing pulse, his hands smoothing up over your ribs, over your chest. His thigh between yours, and then both of them as you part willingly for him. The feeling of him so solid against your clothed cunt, his hips rolling slow and steady like a tide. It washes over the both of you. God, he tastes good - he smells good, spicy, musky. His stubble is pleasantly scratchy. It feels good as he unbuttons your shirt and kisses down in the valley between your breasts - he kisses at the swollen flesh there, hands kneading. You’re at the button and zipper of your own slacks, hurrying to capture his with your trembling digits so you can free the both of you.

Roman moans, hands leaving only to free his cock - no words. None as he guides himself to your cunt - slick. Tight. All that rippled, gorgeous flesh there for the taking, pushing inside of you with the most deliciously infuriating patience. A slow rock of his hips until he’s fully seated, grinding against the deepest, most sensitive nerves. All the heat. Only vaguely mindful of the world outside his office, the both of you taking turns tasting each others’ gentle whines, his voice drawn high and sensitive. All of you, all of him, bare, raw. Fingers on the sharp edges of Roman’s cheekbones, tracing with your thumbs to meet the corners of his jaw. Feeling it move as he consumes your moans, your sobbing little sounds as you try to keep quiet. Roman’s hands wander down, feeling the curve of your ass as he thrusts, undulating, gripping you tenderly there like he can’t bear to not cover as much of you as he can with his own body. His teeth skating over your throat as your climax approaches, deep, different than usual. Nothing about this is usual. Not even fucking close.

Roman shifts his angle just a little and it’s like magic - the suddenness of your orgasm flows up into your brain like sparks, those tiny, fizzing bubbles that evaporate from the edge of a hard wave, surging back down in the riptide to devastate you as it crashes down your belly, your thighs, all the way to your toes as they curl. All of it is cyclical - the unending wave of your body tensing up, contracting; Roman’s rolling hips; his soft little moans in your ear, on a wonderful loop. Those will stay - you’ll remember them late at night while your fingers do what they can to replicate the pleasure, but it’s never the same on your own. Roman whines and goes taut with you, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave a little mark - the marks of those teeth, that delicate flesh that is going to be purple the next day until it fades into a brown, a green. The dimples his teeth make fade before any of that. The sensation stays. Roman’s cock throbs inside of you and he’s filling you up, hips twitching. Your fingers in his hair. He kisses you again, and it’s sloppy - his lips are wet, his tongue against yours in earnest. Cyclical. Mouth to mouth, Roman still buried to the hilt inside your cunt. No beginning. No end. Only heat. Only dying stars, blooming bruises.

Redressing should be awkward, maybe. Roman helps you, and still there aren’t words. Just tenderness. Both of you red, and the sheen of sweat on his face is beautiful, the way his hair has shaken out of its styled part. Loose. Strands hang over his forehead. Only a hint of his smirk is there - just behind the smile. Just a touch. Both of you back in position, legs folded, breaths caught. Roman’s cum leaking from you, his dreamy bedroom-eyes getting a little clearer. A little less lost. After a long beat, you decide to pretend nothing happened. You clear your throat, blinking, watching him.

“Ro… Roman?”

“Yeah.” He sounds clearer, returning back to a familiar register. Like he’s shaking it off. The lines around his smirk - there it is. A certain degree of smugness in those eyes, pupils not so blown. “What?”

“Nothing,” you test. He cocks an eyebrow and the flush returns with a vengeance, hotter than before. “I just think it… worked.”

“Uh-huh.” Roman tilts his head, cracking his neck. He scoffs with clear pleasure as he stretches his arms up and catches you eyeing his lithe form, slim belly peeking from under his shirt before he shudders back to sitting. “Not bad. I feel all… mmm, relieved. Don’t you?”

[awkward-walking-potato]

How would Wade care for a reader on their period?

Period Panic Prevention

You and Wade were curled up on the couch, surrounded by a sea of blankets and pillows. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV as an action-comedy played out on the screen. It wasn’t anything particularly deep or emotional—just the kind of mindless fun that you both enjoyed after a long day.

Wade had one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand holding a bowl of popcorn that was slowly being devoured. His occasional commentary and quips about the movie kept you laughing, but there was a strange tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake.

As the movie went on, you found yourself getting inexplicably teary-eyed. You tried to blink it away, but the feeling only grew stronger. It wasn’t long before a lump formed in your throat, and your eyes started to well up.

Wade noticed immediately. Of course, he did—nothing got past him, especially when it came to you.

“Hey, uh, you okay, babe?” he asked, glancing down at you with a mix of confusion and concern. “This is the part where they blow stuff up, not the part where you start bawling your eyes out.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I—I don’t know. I’m fine. I just—” Your voice cracked, and suddenly, you were crying in earnest, your shoulders shaking as the tears spilled over.

Wade was flabbergasted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! What’s going on? Did I miss something? Did they slip in a tragic backstory I wasn’t paying attention to?”

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath between sobs. “No, it’s not that. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming.”

Wade’s expression shifted from bewildered to understanding in an instant. He’d seen this before—several times, in fact. And each time, it took him a minute to put two and two together, but once he did, the solution was clear.

“Babe,” he said gently, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb, “do you think your period might be coming up?”

You paused, sniffling again as you tried to think through the haze of emotions. “Maybe… I haven’t really been keeping track, but it could be.”

Wade nodded, now in full detective mode. “Okay, okay, I got this. You just hang tight for a second.”

Before you could ask what he was up to, Wade was off the couch and out of the room, leaving you with a confusing mix of emotions and a vague sense of embarrassment. But then again, this was Wade—he wasn’t the type to shy away from anything, especially when it came to taking care of you.

A few minutes later, he came back into the living room, a triumphant look on his face as he presented you with a basket that looked like it had been assembled by someone who took their job very seriously.

“There we go!” Wade announced, setting the basket down in front of you. “The ultimate period survival kit, courtesy of yours truly.”

You stared at the basket in surprise, your tears momentarily forgotten as you took in the assortment of items he’d gathered. There were tampons and pads of various sizes, a hot water bottle, a box of your favorite chocolates, a bottle of painkillers, some herbal tea, and even a couple of face masks. It was like a one-stop shop for everything you could possibly need during your period.

“Wade…” you began, your voice thick with emotion, though for a completely different reason now.

But Wade wasn’t done yet. “Hold on, there’s more! I ran you a bath—it’s nice and hot, just the way you like it. And after that, I’ve got your comfiest PJs laid out on the bed. Oh, and don’t worry about dinner, I ordered your favorite takeout. It should be here by the time you’re out of the tub.”

He said all of this in a rapid-fire burst, like he’d been planning it for hours instead of just a few minutes. You blinked at him, overwhelmed by the sheer thoughtfulness of it all.

“Wade, this is… You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Didn’t have to?” Wade said, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, this is exactly what I have to do. You’re feeling like crap, and I’m not about to let you go through that without the proper tools, ya know?”

You felt another wave of emotion coming on, but this time it was one of deep affection and gratitude rather than inexplicable sadness. You reached out and pulled Wade into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest as the tears started up again—only these were the good kind.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “This means so much to me.”

Wade hugged you back just as tightly, one hand gently rubbing your back. “Hey, it’s no big deal. Besides, you do the same for me, right? And I’m way more of a mess on the regular.”

You chuckled through your tears, lifting your head to look up at him. “Maybe, but this is different. This is… I don’t know, it just makes me feel really loved.”

Wade’s gaze softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “That’s the idea, babe. You’re stuck with me, so I’m gonna make sure you’re as happy and comfortable as possible. And if that means putting together an emergency period basket, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the hot water bottle. “You’re the best, Wade.”

“I know,” he replied with a smirk, though there was a softness in his eyes that belied the bravado. “Now, go enjoy that bath before it gets cold. I’ll be here when you’re done—food ready, blankets fluffed, the whole nine yards.”

With one last kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and headed toward the bathroom. As you slipped into the warm, soothing water, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. Wade might have been unconventional in a lot of ways, but when it came to taking care of you, he never missed a beat.

When you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel and feeling much more relaxed, you found the fluffy pajamas Wade had promised laid out on the bed, along with a small note.

“Just remember: Even when the world’s a pain in the ass, I’ve got your back (and your chocolate). –W.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you slipped into the pajamas, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. By the time you made it back to the living room, Wade had everything set up perfectly—your favorite takeout, a stack of fluffy blankets, and your favorite movie queued up on the TV.

As you settled back into your spot next to him, Wade wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. The two of you dug into the food, the warmth of the meal and Wade’s presence soothing any lingering discomfort.

“You know,” you said after a few bites, “you really didn’t have to go all out like this. But I’m so glad you did.”

Wade smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Anything for you, babe. Anything at all.”

And with that, the two of you settled in for the rest of the evening, the earlier tears forgotten as you basked in the warmth of Wade’s love and care. It was moments like these that reminded you just how special your relationship with him was—chaotic, unconventional, and absolutely perfect.

[nwjenz]

LOVESICK kang haerin x reader

warnings: 6th member reader, fluff, haerin is down bad

“so,get up I don’t wanna fight your shadow.” yn’s soft voice fills haerin’s ears.

she keeps her gaze on her member, watching her sing and dance so gracefully to their choreography, you’re so pretty and talented, is the only thing that goes through her mind as she watches you, the way you dance the way you sing is amazing to her, which reminds her that she’s supposed-

“haerin!” minji’s voice snaps haerin out of her haze, she looks at minji alramed with doe eyes, “why did you stop dancing?”

she’s now very aware of her surroundings. all her members looking at her in concern, standing in very awkward positions, which was caused by the dance.

“are you okay?” danielle is the next member to voice her concerns.

“are you sick?” that was hanni.

“I was just about to ask that.” is the voice that fully had her attention, you “are you sick?”

yeah, lovesick

haerin shakes her head profusely, “sorry guys, I guess I just zoned out.” she says making sure to put some base in her voice to show that she’s okay, but it didn’t seem convincing.

“maybe you should go home.” minji starts,haerin opens her mouth to protest but minji cuts her off, “we’ve been practicing all day, I think you’re tired.”

“I’ll go call someone to pick her up.” hyein says, walking out the practice room.

“I’m really fine guys.” haerin says again, trying as hard as she can to convince the five girls in the room, this is what she gets for being so distracted by your beauty and it definitely won’t be the last time.

“It’s okay to be tired.” is it bad that your voice puts her in a haze?

you walk closer to her, putting your hand on her shoulder, “we’ve been working really hard on this comeback, it’s expected.” you say reassuringly.

is it bad that she feels really weak by your touch?

maybe I should go home.

all she does is look at you, which makes you even more concerned, you furrow your eye brows at her, “are you okay?”

before she can answer hyein walks back in the room, “manager unnie has car out for you.”

haerin is already walking out the room, haering minji’s faint “w’ll see you later.”

.♡.

when haerin gets back to the dorms, she spends the rest of her day in her bed, watching shows on her laptop, only stopping to answer her members “check up” texts.

she’s been so into the show that she’s watching that she lost track of time, she looks her window and sees the blue sky dimming, she looks at her clock, 6:30pm.

where are they?

like on timing, she hears the front door click and multiple voices

she jumps slightly when her door opens, only to reveal you.

“hey..” you trail off smiling at her, god, she doesn’t know how you are the way you are so effortlessly.

you walk over to her bed and sit at the edge, “we brought food, did you take anything or how you’re feeling?”

she just looks at you dazed and you look at her concerned, “haerin?”

“yeah?”

“did you hear me?”

“yeah, sorry, no I didn’t take anything.” she shakes her head.

“well, what kind of sickness are you feeling?” you ask leaning closer to her.

“lovesick.”

“what?” you laugh shaking your head and getting up from her bed. “minji’s right you are weird.”

you bring out your hand towards her for her to take, “come on,let’s get you some food.”

she takes your hand and you pull her with you to the kitchen, where the rest of the girls are.

as everyone greets her and asks her how she feels the only thing on her mind is your hand in hers

she really is lovesick.

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: The journey continues with quiet tension as you adjust to your injury and the isolation of the open road. After setting up camp, you find yourself navigating the discomfort of shared space and thoughts of the danger that lies ahead.

no warnings apply

The road ahead stretches long and unforgiving. The world feels so… vast, and you, so small. Out here, in the open, in the middle of nowhere.

The engine hummed beneath you as you slowly pulled yourself from a heavy sleep. Joel was still in the driver’s seat, Ellie next to him. Sharp, unrelenting aches shot up your leg, and you reached down to check the wound.

Not bleeding anymore, at least. But fuck, did it hurt.

After an hour of driving that first night, you’d stopped on the side of the road. Joel had done his best to check the wound for any remaining bullet fragments. He’d torn your pant leg off, soaked in crimson blood. You were ‘lucky,’ he’d said while stitching you up. The bullet had gone clean through the other side of your thigh without hitting the main artery. But you didn’t feel lucky. Not with the pain still searing through you all night. Not while you were praying for no infection.

Now, the handkerchief around your leg isn’t as soaked as your jeans had been, now cut off into shorts. The stitched skin is aching and painful, but bearable–no longer white hot and blinding. Your knees bruised and scuffed from the fall to the ground.

“Hey,” Ellie says from the front seat, turning to look at you. “You okay?”

You rub your eyes, still groggy from sleep, and run a hand through your hair, looking at her. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” you sigh, “How long was I out?”

“’Bout six hours,” Ellie said softly, glancing at Joel.

You looked out the window, surprised to see… nothing. No towns, no road signs, no signs of life at all. Just open overgrown fields against lush forests.

You don’t bother to even ask where you are. It’s not like it really mattered anymore since being forced from the only thing you’ve ever known.

You lean your head back against the seat, eyes heavy, your body still aching from the sharp pull of your leg. The road’s monotonous hum is almost soothing, but the emptiness of it all—the nothingness that stretches out endlessly—settles over you like a thick blanket of hopelessness. It’s so quiet, the kind of silence that makes you feel small. You close your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creep in again, the weight of everything catching up to you, settling in your bones.

Maybe if I just sleep long enough, this will all feel a little less real.

But it doesn’t. You try to push the thoughts away, to bury them under the dull throb in your leg, but they keep coming. The feeling of loss. Of being so far from everything. Of not knowing where you’re going, or if you’re even meant to get there.

The truck bumps over the uneven terrain, jolting you back into consciousness, and you blink up at the roof of the cab. Joel’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts. “That’s enough for today,” he says, his tone quiet but resolute.

You hear the truck slow, tires crunching over gravel as he pulls off the road, deeper into the woods. The truck rocks and bumps, the suspension straining as Joel drives farther in, trying to get as far from the road as he can. You let your eyes flutter shut again, fighting the overwhelming urge to just sleep, but the quiet around you weighs on your mind.

The truck comes to a stop, and you feel the sudden stillness in the air. The engine cuts off, and Joel’s voice breaks the silence again as he shifts in his seat, getting out of the truck and opening your door, “Come on now,”

You drag yourself out of the truck, wincing as your leg protests, but you don’t complain. Ellie’s already moving around, taking a look around, chattering about something to Joel that you don’t care to pay attention to. Once out of the truck, Joel’s eyes sweep over you, almost as if he’s making sure you’re able to stand on your own, then begins setting up a small camp for the evening, getting out some plates and forks and a can of something with a faded label.

You reach into your bag, fingers brushing over the pack of chicken you grabbed back at the house. “Might as well eat this,” you mutter, pulling it out with a small sigh. “It’s gonna be bad by tomorrow.”

You hear Joel grunt in acknowledgment, and Ellie offers a quiet “Yeah, sounds good,” but neither of them push you to say more. They know. The silence hangs between the three of you, tense and awkward. You can’t stand the idea of them pitying you, but you don’t have it in you to snap back.

You open your bag and start divvying up the chicken. It’s not the best meal, but it’ll keep you moving. Better than whatever 20 year old substance was in that can they were about to open. You glance around the clearing, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest. You’d never been out in the open like this before, nothing outside of Lincoln. Not without your secure gate, tall fences, your alarm system.

“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie asks with her mouth full.

“I figure I sleep tonight,” Joel answers her with a straight tone, no nonsense. “Drive tomorrow all day, all night. Get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.”

“Wyoming?” you ask, mid-chew, not entirely sure you want to hear the answer.

Joel’s eyes flicker to you from where he’s hunched over his food. “Been tryna find my brother—”

“Tommy, right?” you cut in, something in the back of your cobwebbed memories stirring. The name rings familiar, but you’re not sure why.

Joel hesitates, maybe realizing he might’ve said too much in the past when you were just a kid, not realizing how much you’d remember. He looks uncertain about continuing, but after a long moment, he does.

“Tommy joined the Fireflies years ago,” he says, looking down at his plate, “Course, last I heard he left them too. But he might at least know where they are. Last I heard he sent word through the radio from a town outside of Cody, Wyoming. Gotta go get him.”

You pause, your fork halfway to your mouth. So Tommy had been with the Fireflies. That’s the group Joel’s told you about—freedom fighters against FEDRA. You don’t know much beyond that, just enough to make sense of it.

But something about it rubs you the wrong way.

So he’d keep up with the radio for his brother, but not for Bill and Frank. And certainly not for you.

Swallowing hard at the lump of food in your mouth, you do your best to ignore the way the feeling crawls up your throat. It shouldn’t matter. It’s not like you expected anything from him.

Tess and Joel had made it a point to be a part of your life, a part of your dad’s life. And yet, over the years, they’d gone silent. You didn’t know the details, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pry them out of the surly bastard. You were stuck with him now, even though he never showed a care in the world for you, for how you were holding up. Nothing in the past seven years to even ask if any of you were still alive. 

But he’d gotten you out, saved you last night, despite everything. You couldn’t ignore that. So, you supposed you’d have to accept that part of him, even if it didn’t make the rest of him any easier to figure out.

“So, can we start a fire? I’m freezing.” Ellie asks, popping a bite of chicken into her mouth.

“Now why am I gonna tell you no?” Joel looks at her, exasperated and terse.

She rolls her eyes, “Cause infected will see the smoke,”

“Infected aren’t that smart,” you mumble, but Joel hears you.

“That’s right.” he nods, still looking at Ellie, “Fungus ain’t that smart. Besides, this is too remote for infected anyway,” he adds, but his eyes still dart around the clearing you’ve gathered in.

Ellie pauses her chewing, “People…?” she says, her eyes widening. Without an answer, she takes it as an assertion, “So what’re they gonna do, rob us?” she asks, almost sarcastically, but there’s an underlying tone of seriousness to her as she waits for his answer.

“Oh they’ll have a lot more in mind than that.” Joel says darkly, “Did you learn nothin’ from what we just faced?”

You swallow the last of the chicken, and the weight of his words presses down on you. Your dad had never really talked about what was out there. He’d always said that what mattered was the land you could protect, the food you could grow. People? That was something your dad never bothered to explain to you—that was the world he kept hidden from you. As much as he hated the world, he never told you about what the world had turned into. Maybe he was just as sheltered from it all. Only things you know were what Joel and Tess had shared, brief words exchanged, more like scary stories that you never took note of, until now.

You look at Joel, his expression harder than usual, and the knot in your stomach tightens. You wonder what he’s seen, what he knows, that makes him sound this way. All you’ve ever known is the small, isolated world of Lincoln–of what you and your dad created.

You wonder if that was the right kind of world to be raised in. You wonder if you're prepared for what's ahead.

Then your eyes land on the sleeping bags they’ve rolled out. Two, that look awfully a lot like the ones your dad and Frank had.

You can’t help it. “Really?” you call out, voice dripping with sarcasm and thankful for a change in subject. “You were just gonna take my stuff, huh? You didn’t think maybe, you know, asking would’ve been a thing?”

Joel glances up, an eyebrow raised, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, like he’s not sure whether you’re joking or pissed.

You shake your head, “No warning, no nothing—just raid my place for sleeping bags and head out, huh? You’re no better than those guys who came for my shit last night,”

Ellie, not missing a beat, looks over at you with a lopsided grin. “Hey, at least we didn’t shoot you for it.”

“Ellie.” Joel reprimands.

After rolling your eyes, you glance at the sleeping bags, and then back at the truck. You should’ve thought to bring one in those last few moments of packing. The idea of sharing one of those with either of them—Joel, especially—makes your stomach churn with anxiety. Besides, it’s warm enough that you don’t necessarily need the extra warmth of the down-stuffed sleeping arrangements.

You shake your head, standing up. “I’ll take the backseat,” you say, a little too loud. You’re not sure if you’re talking to them or just saying it out loud to justify it.

Ellie looks at you, eyebrows raised. “You sure?”

“Better than sharing one of those with either of you,” you mutter, your voice edged with more than a little sarcasm. “Besides, it’s hot as hell out here.”

You climb into the backseat, using your jacket as a blanket, your leg throbbing under the weight of the day. It’s cramped, but it’s your space, and you can rest without feeling like you’re suffocating in the heat of the sleeping bag.

A few minutes pass, the night stretching longer as the sounds of the woods surround you. The crickets chirp faintly from outside, and for a moment, you feel your body finally beginning to relax, the exhaustion catching up with you.

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You try to ignore it, but then the side door by your feet opens.

Joel’s voice, low and rough, filters through the space. “How’s the leg?”

You sigh, looking over at him from where you lie in the cramped backseat. “It’s fine. Just a little sore.”

Joel grunts in acknowledgment, his shadow falling across the truck as he leans in to look at the wound, “You don’t gotta be stubborn,” he mutters, his tone almost too quiet. “Let me check it.”

You stay still, letting him move closer as his body moves inside the door over the bench of the backseat. You can hear the faint clinking and rustling of things as he pulls items out of his med kit. His presence is steady, not quite intrusive, but close enough that it feels a little too... personal. It’s just him, his hands rough and worn, as he reaches in carefully to check the bandage around your thigh.

The touch is gentle, but his movements are stiff, as though he's trying to be as careful as possible without drawing attention to the fact that his hands are on your bare thigh. You force yourself not to think about it. It's just a wound, just a necessary task.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just focusing on the gunshot, checking to make sure it’s as clean as it can be and that the stitches are holding. His hands are careful, methodical. You try to keep your breath steady, not allowing your mind to wander, but it's hard. He’s the only man you’ve known outside of your family, and this... this proximity is something unfamiliar.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable you are, or maybe he’s trying not to. His attention is entirely on your leg, but you can’t help but wonder if he knows how awkward this all feels. Maybe it’s just you.

You catch yourself thinking about it again and shake the thought away.

“Could be worse,” Joel says, his voice gruff, but there’s something underlying in it. A quiet kind of care, like he’s trying not to make a big deal of it, “Don’t think it’s gon’ get infected,”

You look at him, trying to gauge what’s in his eyes, but the dim light makes it hard to read. His face is shadowed, but you can still make out the familiar furrow in his brow. He’s doing this because he has to, but there’s a softness behind it that you don’t want to acknowledge. It makes the silence feel a little too thick.

You shift uncomfortably, ignoring the flush that creeps up your cheeks, “Uh... thanks,” you mutter, not sure what else to say.

Joel glances up at you, his expression unreadable. There's a flicker in his eyes, like he's debating whether to say something or just move on. Finally, he snorts, breaking the silence. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

You offer a tight smile, trying to brush it off, but you can’t ignore the awkwardness hanging between you. You pull the jacket tighter around you, wishing you could disappear into it. “I won’t. Don’t worry.”

He finishes adjusting the bandage, his hands careful, deliberate. “Alright, that should hold you for now. Don’t do anything stupid and it’ll heal fine."

You nod, still trying to process the weirdness of the moment. He stands up, his boots shifting against the dirt as he hesitates for a second, glancing down at you.

“Get some rest,” Joel adds, his voice softer now, quieter than you’d expect. “We’re gonna need it.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you don’t. Instead, you pull the jacket closer, settling back into the seat. You hear the sound of him walking away, the rustle of them getting comfortable in their sleeping bags crinkling in the distance. You let the quiet settle in again, the warmth of the night and the heavy pull of sleep taking over.

[rs-hawk]

More minotaur asterion pleeeeeease! They are so cute together istg

They're engaged aren't they 😈 their parents just arranged it I'm guessing

You would think, wouldn’t you? 🤭

Nobleman Minotaur Part Four

You leave Asterion’s dwelling in a haze, glancing over your shoulder to see the immoral talking to her son before the door shuts behind you. She said to go talk to your father, so you obey. Your head is too full of thoughts of Astreion’s lips being so close to yours for there to be thoughts of much else.

In almost a haze, you make your way through the garden towards the palace. In the sitting room, your father is sitting, obviously waiting for you. “Y/N. I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled at you as he shut the book he had been reading.

“Pasiphae told me to come see you,” you managed to say, eyes drawn to the large amount of wrapped presents on the table beside your father. You knew what they were. Gifts to butter you up so noblemen across the land could request your hand. You’d never bothered to open a single one. “She said I would want to hear what the two of you discussed.”

Your father chuckled, setting the book to the side and gesturing for you to sit beside him. You do so, leaning your head against his shoulder. It’s comforting. It reminds you of being a child.

“She had told me that she had a vision of you getting married by next year’s end,” your father said, making you still.

“Next year’s end?” you repeated, drawing away from him. “So soon?”

“I know that it’s soon, but a Goddess’ visions are rarely wrong,” your father said as he patted your back.

Your heart skipped a beat as you pulled away from him, your eyes hesitantly raising to meet his. “Did she… see who it was?”

Your father shook his head, a frown steeping his face. “No. Why? Did you have someone in mind?” You shrugged, face flushing brightly. “It seems like you might be holding something back.”

“Well, I’m not sure if you’d approve,” you hesitantly say, tugging at your skirt.

“It’s no matter. Lady Pasiphae told me she saw how the suitor would win your heart and your hand,” your father said almost smugly, like it was a game and he was winning.

This time, it was you who had a frown steeped into your face. “ ‘Win’?”

“Yes, child. Acts of bravery and strength, so that way you might have the protection of both the Gods and man.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. You knew that you didn’t have a choice. Not really. Not only were you his eldest child, but the only daughter. You were not just an heir to the throne, but the one chance he might get at combining territories, or making alliances. You felt foolish. Of course you couldn’t have just blurted out who you wanted to be with. Even your father, kind as he was, wasn’t blind nor stupid. He knew how a kingdom with a monster as the king would look.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice tight and strained, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ll get everything put together. The tournaments will start by next month’s end.” Your father sounded so proud when he announced this, as if this was something you should want. Something you should be excited for. “Every eligible man in the Kingdom will come to compete for your man.”

“Every… bachelor?” you asked, eyes lighting up as you thought of how you could tell Aestrion about the tournament. Your heart skipped a beat at the idea of how easy it would be for him to wipe the floor with any other contestant.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” your father laughed, picking his book back up as he went to stand. “Take a look through the gifts. I want to know truly if there’s anyone that you’re interested in. While the Goddess say the tournament winner would win your hand, maybe the acts of bravery and strength weren’t in the tournament. Maybe he’s a soldier, or a General, even.”

You nodded along, contemplating. The Aestrion you knew had never shown strength. He was a soft, gentle man. Of course, you had no knowledge of his past, but still…

“Alright Father. I’ll look at the gifts,” you agree, mind racing. Wondering how you’ll be able to get him to agree to such a thing, or if he even wanted to.

Like this story? Support me on Ko-fi ☕️ ❤️

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 6

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been brutally stabbed, who can you trust?

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Mentions of Violence, Slight Gore, Language, Some fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: More….more angst. (But dw it’s getting better) This one’s for paige and cutie anon :)) I wanna know what y’all think, who’s ghostface??

Ethan looks beat up. He stands in front of you, eyes wide; mouth slightly open.

Where did he come from?

You don’t have the time to make the decision if he’s Ghostface or not, so you assume the worst. You half contemplate making a run for it, maybe you’ll get far enough away that you lose him.

It would never work, you’re aware of that. You’re extremely wounded, he’d catch up to you in a minute.

There’s no way he could’ve attacked you on the balcony, slipped out the robe, and gotten in front of the pub so quick…right?

His eyes fly down to your shoulder, and now his mouth drops open fully.

“YN! Are you alright? I tried to find you as fast as possible, but Ghostface attacked me-“ He stops, catching his breath. “And I- I got away but jesus lord this hurts.”

He points to his thigh, and that’s when you notice the gash; all red and oozing.

He has an attack mark, okay; you think.

But he could’ve easily done it to fake you out. The other part of you thinks.

It wasn’t an outlandish theory, plenty of Ghostface’s before have.

You eye him up and down.

“How did you find me? What the fuck are you doing here?” You question, accusatory tone in your voice.

He looks taken aback, obviously not expecting you to accuse him of being Ghostface.

But then his gaze turns cold, and you realize you’ve never seen the boy angry before.

“Are you kidding me? I came here to look for you, like I said. Your location was on, we have each other on find my friends; don’t you remember? Are you seriously considering me as Ghostface right now?”

You bite back an insult, really study his face. He doesn’t look like he’s lying, but that doesn’t really reassure you.

It’s a race between your head and your heart, and you curse; shaking your head.

The blood you’re losing is starting to take a toll on your critical thinking skills, and you can feel the haze start to take over.

You figure it wouldn’t hurt to have a suspect with you right now, if he tried anything you wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat.

“Can we talk about this later?” You grit, “I’m kind of dying over here.”

His eyes soften a bit, and you can see the split decision he makes.

“Come on, let’s go back to the apartment.” He urges, signaling you to his car.

You stare at him sharply.

“The apartment? What the fuck are we going to do there? Let’s go to the hospital.” You say.

He shakes his head once, then twice.

“No. Tara would kill me if I don’t get you back in like 10 minutes. Anika’s a nursing major, she’ll fix you up.” He says, helping you up into his car; staining the seat with the amount of blood pooling from you.

You open your mouth to argue, but find you can’t speak. The haze has gotten really bad, and your vision’s starting to blur.

“YN? Stop, stay awake first. Just a few minutes. Keep your eyes open.” You hear faintly, along with the sound of the car speeding through the street.

My eyes….huh, they won’t open. You try to tell Ethan you can’t hold on any longer, but everything turns black as you do.

-

You don’t wake till hours later, propped up on the couch in the apartment; blinking at the bright lights in front of you.

“Oh christ.” You mumble as you try and sit up, but feel your stomach constrict painfully.

“Don’t move.” You hear from beside you, and your eyes shoot to the person sitting next to you; hand on your arm.

It’s Tara, and it only takes you a second to notice the fire in her eyes from before is gone. Nobody else is there in the room, just her and you.

You feel yourself relax a little, tilting your head back up to the ceiling.

It’s silent for a good minute until Tara shifts in her seat, and you can almost feel the hesitance radiating off her.

“What were you thinking? Going off alone, you could’ve been seriously hurt. Hell, you are seriously hurt!” She hisses, and you roll over; scrunch your eyebrows together at her.

It’s infuriating, that she thinks she has the right to be mad at you. After what happened last night? The audacity.

It’s petty, but you don’t care. You want to piss her off.

“Why do you care? I thought you weren’t my girlfriend anymore.” You say, hotly.

Tara’s taken by surprise at your statement, mouth opening and closing; gaping like a fish.

She finally opens it to speak after a few seconds. There’s still irritation in her voice, but it’s lessened almost insurmountably.

“Well, I still care about my friends-“ She starts but you silence her with a finger pressed to her lips.

It’s hard to stop you from speaking now, you’ve spent the last few days stirring and collecting your thoughts.

“Do you really think you can call me your friend after that? Do you treat your friends like you treated me?” You question, and swipe your finger against her lips.

She shivers a little underneath your touch, and sinks timidly onto the floor.

“YN, look I’m sorry. I believe you now.” She mumbles, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Too little too late Tara.” And you sink back into the couch; looking away from the brunette.

You’re butthurt, you’re aware of it; but you still want to make Tara pay a little.

“What can I do, to make it up to you?“ She asks, gingerly placing her hand on yours again.

You retract quickly. You don’t miss the flash of hurt that passes through her features.

You feel your defenses breaking a bit.

“Just give it time, Tara. I want to be left alone.” You sigh, shooting her a final look that screams ‘please just leave’.

She seems to understand, because she gets up immediately and walks away.

You try and quell the pit of regret in your stomach the minute she leaves. After everything, you still miss her. You curse yourself silently.

There’s hushed voices from around the corner that Tara’s just turned. You strain your ears, and you recognize both people speaking immediately.

“Tara where are her parents? Why aren’t we calling them?” Ethan questions; and you can picture his tight brows and unsure stance.

“Her mom’s all the way back in California, and she’s never told me about her dad.” Tara says, “We shouldn’t worry her, YN wouldn’t want that.”

You clench your eyes shut, rub your head in hopes of relieving some tension. Your parents were always a touchy subject, and never failed to give you a headache.

You tune their conversation out after that, try to fall asleep and lessen the aching pain in your lower stomach.

-

You get a good 3 hours in before you’re waking up again, hand clutching the skin beside your wound.

It’s searing, and you need to relieve it now. You’re so caught up in the pain you don’t see the shifting figure across the room.

There’s a shuffling sound somewhere around the room, and you tilt your head to the side; trying to see the person.

It’s Tara, and she’s getting up quickly; moving almost like she’s been caught. She avoids your gaze as she leaves.

You sigh. Bite back your pride as you ask her.

“Wait- Tara could you grab me the ice pack from the fridge?”

She turns around immediately, face lighting up. You pretend not to see.

She walks to the fridge, grabs the ice pack from the freezer and holds it between her hands. It looks huge in comparison to her fingers.

She’s fidgeting with it, the coldness painting the tips of her fingers a slight purple.

It’s kind of cute.

She walks over, footsteps light; and lingers in front of you.

She’s so hesitant with you now you sort of feel bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have been too harsh.

“Come here, what are you waiting for?” You inquire, patting the spot beside you.

She sits and reaches down to your shirt; but she catches herself before she can pull it up; looking at you with searching eyes.

You nod.

She seems to take that as a good enough answer because she pulls it up just enough to show your wound, and she’s wincing at the sight of it.

“Jesus, does it hurt?” She asks, devastated look in her eyes. You look away before you say anything stupid.

“First of all, my name is YN. Second, a little bit.” You say, voice tight.

Shit, that’s a stupid joke.

She ignores your statement and focuses on the wound.

“Oh god, how do I do this? I should’ve asked Anika to come look after you.” She rambles, head swishing back like she’s about to bolt out the room.

You bring up an arm to stop her, ignoring the sharp pain and making her look at you.

“I want you to do it. Here, I’ll help.” You say, hesitating when you remember you don’t know where to put it either.

Obviously she shouldn’t press it right on the wound, you know that. You settle for the area around the wound; the part that’s already turning green and purple.

You’re still touching her hand when you guide her. She’s breathing a little heavy; cheeks tinted the faintest red.

Her touch is so gentle, it makes you swallow nervously. Everything suddenly feels very intimate.

No, how were you breaking already? You literally just told her you needed time.

The look in her eyes as she presses the ice to you makes you think she’s feeling the same way. Avoiding your eyes, gingerly placing her fingers on your skin.

You close your eyes, but Tara must think you’ve gone to sleep, because a few moments later you hear her mutter under her breath.

“I’m so sorry.”

-

You know what people don’t tell you about being brutally stabbed? It’s boring as hell.

It’s been a couple of days, and you can still barely move anywhere; in fact, you think it might be getting worse.

Anika’s come in to check on you every few hours, taking care of the wound and giving you antibiotics. You’re not really sure if she’s qualified to do that, but you shrug it off.

You start conversations and send sweet smiles to her as often as you can, trying to show her you’re grateful for everything she’s doing.

“Oh hush, of course I’ll help a friend in need.” She said once during a new wrap up of your wound, where you’d tried to express how thankful you were.

The rest of the group seems to be feeling guilty for it too, and they’re trying to help; you can see it.

Mindy visits sometimes and tells jokes, sometimes discusses her theories about who ghostface is with you. She’s surprisingly very funny, and you wonder why you haven’t talked more before.

Chad doesn’t really say much, but he buys you snacks and once a bouquet of flowers; handing them over with a shy smile.

Ethan’s ethan. He visits every day, cracks lame jokes. Shows you the latest updates on the game he’s been obsessed with.

And Tara, sweet Tara. She sticks by your side all day and night, but always leaves enough space for you to feel comfortable. Her usual spot is on the armchair across from you, and you’ve caught her staring at you more times than she cares to admit.

Everything’s changed, including your feelings toward her. Your heart swells whenever she asks if you need anything, or checks up on your temperature hourly. You have to fight the urge to pull her down and kiss her as she’s taking a wet towel and wiping your forehead.

But you don’t utter a word, because the damage has been done, and you don’t want to confuse her more than you already have.

The only member of the group to not check up on you yet is Sam, which is understandable. It’s not like you and Sam have a sweet sister-like bond.

But today, when the front door opens and you call out for Tara; Sam enters the room instead.

She doesn’t say anything as she grabs a chair and comes to sit beside you; or more so in front of you.

You try to sit up, but it’s still excruciatingly painful to; so you settle for rolling on your side and making eye contact with the older woman.

“Um, sorry for not coming to check up on you earlier. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I think the rest of the group has it covered.” She says.

You stay quiet as she finds more things to say.

“Are you and Tara alright? I know things were a little tense after the whole DNA debacle.”

You can’t help but snicker.

“Tense is one way to put it.”

“I’m also sorry for not believing you earlier,” She grits, like saying sorry to you is the hardest thing in the world. “I shouldn’t have judged you so hard, because well; you’re obviously not Ghostface.”

She gestures to the 5-inch stab wound.

You grimace, pursing your lips.

“I’m sorry too,” You start, “For bringing Tara up on the roof that day, it was a dangerous thing to do; and Tara could’ve been seriously hurt. God I don’t know what I’d do if Tara had been stabbed that day.” You add the last bit as an afterthought, not really meaning to say it to Sam.

She looks thoughtful as she speaks again, slowly.

“I know we’ve had our fair share of differences, but I can tell Tara loves you. I mean, she practically begged me not to tell the others about the dna.”

You raise your eyebrows, obviously not expecting Sam to admit something like that.

“I’m not exactly sure what she sees in you, but if you make her happy; then I guess I can tolerate you.” She finishes, and for the first time since meeting her; she looks kind.

You know how hard it is for Sam to open up to someone, you’ve heard all about it from Tara. The fact that she’s bringing her defenses down and admitting she’s wrong makes you beam.

“Plus, you aren’t that bad of a fighter; are you? Ethan’s been bragging that his best friend sucker punched Ghostface after getting stabbed.” And you see the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

It’s gone as fast as it appears, because now Sam’s leaning in, whispering to you even though you’re the only two people in the room.

“Someone’s setting us up.” She says, “It has to be someone from within our friend group.”

She looks small, hunched over with worry swimming in her eyes. You briefly consider taking her hand in comfort; but think better of it.

“Sam,” You say, voice stern. “Whoever this Ghostface is, we’ll find them. And then we’ll kill them together, for Tara.”

Determination runs through your voice, and it must break Sam out of whatever overthinking she’s doing.

She nods, and you guys share a moment of understanding.

“Together. Let’s kill this son of a bitch.”