#it doesn’t matter if she walks through it it matters it’s there and I don’t break at least one promise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urmum-lovesme · 2 days ago

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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P11

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: My babies I'm sorry for the last chpt but it gets a little better (not really I'm a liar). Y/n is struggling in this and I love Sarah she's my queen. I hate y/n's mother, no further debate. Topper and Kelce blessing the situation with their dumbasses but most importantly what we've all been waiting for, will Rafe and Y/n finally talk it out even though they're stuck in a sticky situation.....? Read and find out BAHAHAHA.

p.s: I made a reference to a TikTok meme that's so big rn and a movie that's one of my favourites all in the same scene, see if you can spot them ;)

warnings: hospitals, mentions of sa and non-con, bad mother daughter relationship, being held in custody, emotional turmoil, tense conversations, crying, mentions of violence, alcohol, panic attacks, soft!Rafe (about damned time)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe sat at the cold metal table, his hands were cuffed, the sharp clink of the chains echoing in his ears everytime he shuffled his hands. He could still feel the adrenaline coursing through him, though it had long since faded to exhaustion. The night had gone from confusion to chaos, and now, sitting here, he couldn’t fully grasp how it had gotten this far. He tried to keep his composure, but every time his mind wandered, it drifted back to Y/N- how she looked… covered in bruises. His stomach twisted at the thought. How could anyone do that to her? And then Cooper- he’d done what had to be done, right? He’d stopped him, even if that meant the boy was left barely breathing.

He didn’t regret that for a second.

The door opened with a creak, and Shoupe walked in, his heavy boots making soft thuds as he approached. He wasn’t a stranger to Rafe, or to the rest of the group for that matter, he knew them all too well, and he had a stern look on his face as he took a seat across from the boy.

“Rafe,�� Shoupe started, his voice calm, “you’ve been here for a while now. You want to tell me what happened?”

Rafe looked at the sheriff, his chest tightening. He didn’t know how to explain himself- not without sounding like a guy trying to justify his own uncontrolled anger.

“I was just protecting her.

Rafe’s voice was low, his eyes meeting the sheriff’s. Shoupe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “I know you were trying to protect her, but you’ve got to understand, the way you went about it…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly.

“You beat the hell out of him. That’s not self-defense.”

Rafe clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. “What was I supposed to do, huh?”

I should have killed him that's what

Shoupe studied him for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “I know you did what you thought was right, Rafe. But you have to understand, beating a guy into the ground like that? The law doesn’t care about intentions. It cares about actions. And right now, your actions don’t look too good. Cooper’s in the hospital. He’s unconscious.”

Rafe felt his chest tighten at the thought, if he died he was done for- so he hoped the boy survived, for his own sake of course. Rafe’s voice broke slightly,

“He was hurting her… and I had to do something.”

“You did something alright.”

Shoupe said, sitting back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “Now the question is, what’s gonna happen because of it. What’s your story, son? You’re lucky that Y/n is okay but you might be facing some serious charges.”

Rafe wanted to lash out, to argue, but the words got stuck in his throat. He could still see Y/N in his mind, trembling, crying, covered in blood. He couldn’t think straight.

“Did you talk to her? Did she tell you what happened?” Shoupe’s voice broke through Rafe’s thoughts.

“You know, if she doesn’t back up your story, it could get a lot worse for you.”

“She’ll back me up.”

Will she?

Rafe said firmly, though there was doubt creeping into his mind. What if she didn’t? What if she was too scared to speak? He couldn’t even imagine what she was going through right now, after everything.

Shoupe’s gaze softened. “I hope so, Rafe. I hope so.” He paused, then looked at him seriously. “If you want to have any shot at getting through this without more problems, you need to get your story straight. Don’t try to make excuses, be honest with me.”

Rafe nodded, feeling like he was in way over his head. But he didn’t care about anything else right now. He just wanted Y/N safe, he would face whatever consequences came his way as long as she was okay.

“I’ll tell you everything,” Rafe finally said, his voice quiet but resolute. “I’ll tell you the truth, I’ll uh- tell you what happened.”

Shoupe stood up slowly, giving him one last look. “Good. We’ll see what we can do from here. But right now, you’re staying here. Just… think it over.”

Shoupe left the room, leaving Rafe alone with his thoughts. He leaned back against the cold metal chair, his mind racing. He could only hope that Y/N would understand, that she wouldn’t be too scared to tell the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sterile smell of the hospital room was almost suffocating. It clung to the walls, to the sheets, and to Y/N. She could barely focus on anything- her mind was swirling in a haze of confusion and fear. She should be relieved that she was away from Cooper, but all she felt was numbness, like her body had turned off in self-preservation. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the thin hospital blanket wrapped around her. She couldn’t stop shaking, despite the warmth of the room. The whole process of the rape kit had been a blur- cold, clinical, invasive- but the worst part was the silence that followed; the silence that consumed her now, sitting in the hospital bed, as she tried to process everything that had happened.

Sarah was sitting quietly beside her, offering her some semblance of comfort, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to talk. She wasn’t even sure what to say. What was she supposed to feel? The guilt that gnawed at her stomach, the shame that twisted in her chest, and the confusion about what was happening with Rafe- she couldn’t sort through it. Sarah tried her best to fill the silence, her voice gentle and soft. She spoke about random things, about the date she'd been on with John B, about how JJ had almost burnt the chateau down trying to make an omelet, her tone casual and light; but Y/N barely registered it as she nodded absently, staring at the covers of the bed. Then, the conversation slowed, Sarah’s voice quieted, and Y/N could feel her friend’s gaze on her, like she was waiting for something. Finally she spoke again, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant,

“Y/N, I… I called your parents.”

...

She froze. Her breath caught in her throat, and her head jerked toward Sarah as the shock hit her,

“What?” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of confusion and rising anger.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

Sarah flinched at her sudden outburst, but she didn’t pull back. She looked at Y/N, her expression a mixture of concern and understanding.

“They deserve to know, Y/N… you’re their only child. They need to know what happened.”

Y/N couldn’t comprehend it. Her parents were miles away, on a business trip, and the last thing she wanted was them to find out about this. She felt a sickening knot form in her stomach, her chest tightening even more. “No, Sarah. No.” Her voice broke, thick with a mix of fear and rage.

“Why couldn’t you just leave it? I don’t want them to know. I can’t have them knowing what happened-”

Her voice cracked as she trailed off, her eyes returning to the bedspread, her hands gripping the fabric of the hospital gown as though it could hold her together. Sarah didn’t press her further, but all Y/N felt was shame.

Deep, overwhelming shame.

Shame that she wasn’t able to protect herself, shame that someone had hurt her so violently, and now, even worse, that her parents would have to find out. They’d been away, living their busy lives, not knowing the horror their daughter had endured. Y/N’s vision blurred as her tears began to fall, quietly, silently. She wasn’t even aware of them at first until the cold wetness hit her cheeks. The shame was unbearable, her shoulders shook slightly as her body began to tremble again, the pain of it all seeping through every inch of her.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them, “I’m so sorry I yelled at you.”

“Y/N,” Sarah’s voice was soft, trying to soothe her, trying to offer any kind of comfort. She gently placed a hand on Y/N’s arm, her touch warm.

“It’s okay you don’t need to apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

But Y/N couldn’t believe that. How could she not have done something wrong? Her mind screamed at her, telling her that she should have fought harder, should have screamed louder, should have somehow stopped what had happened. She didn’t want her parents to know, but a part of her knew that she had to face it. They deserved to know. But the fear- the fear of their disappointment, their anger at tainting the family name- was too much to bear.

“I’m scared Sarah.”

Y/N whispered, barely audible. Sarah’s fingers gently squeezed her arm in reassurance. “We’ll get through this, okay? One step at a time, I promise.”

But even as Sarah said those words, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she was alone. Alone in this hospital bed, with everything she had endured, with everything that was about to happen. She sat quietly in the hospital room, the weight of the hours passing pressing heavily on her chest. Nurses would come in and out of the room, asking her how she felt, talking to Sarah, checking her vitals, but her thoughts were scattered, her mind in a haze. Sarah sat next to her, quietly trying to comfort her, but Y/N couldn’t fully engage with her because her thoughts kept drifting back to memories of the night- of what she could’ve, what she should’ve done differently.

Get me out of here

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the door open. Her heart dropped, as she looked up to see her parents standing in the doorway. Y/N’s mother, her perfectly done hair trench coat buttoned up to the top, looked as if she were about to burst into the room with the composure of someone who had rehearsed the scene in her mind. Y/N’s father followed behind her, his stern expression softening when his eyes landed on his daughter.

“Y/n”

Her mother said, her voice strained and much too formal. Y/n didn’t miss the way her mother took in the state of her, her eyes scanning the room quickly before locking onto her daughter. There was concern there, but also something else, something distant. Y/N felt her anger welling up, a bubbling knot in her throat. Sarah stood up, giving her space but staying lingering by the doorway, close enough to offer support. The silence between them was thick, her father stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a silent comfort but she shivered at the feeling on his hand on her skin. His voice was gentle as he spoke,

“My sweet girl.” Her father leant down, softly placing a kiss on her forehead, his voice low and reassuring.

“Whatever you need, we’ll help you through this.”

Her mother, though less expressive, sat beside her on the bed. She reached out, placing her hand on Y/N’s wrist in an attempt at comfort. It was a gesture that felt stiff, like she didn’t quite know how to be vulnerable with her own daughter.

“I’m so sorry this... happened.” her mother said, her voice wavering slightly.

“We’ll make sure you’re taken care of, I spoke to the nurse about moving you to a more… secluded room.”

As much as Y/N wanted to accept their comfort, the weight of what had happened was still clouding her mind. However her misery was forced down by a bitter feeling of hatred, of anger, of irritation that she was now stuck with this burden leering over her. She took a shaky breath, then spoke with quiet determination, her voice thick with emotion, her words falling into the silence of the room

“I want to press charges.”

Her father’s expression softened, and he nodded in agreement, “Of course Y/N, whatever you want.” His hand smoothed over her hair delicately as he looked down at the girl, a small smile on her face, Y/N felt a flicker of relief at his words. But then her mother spoke, her tone skeptical and weary as she pulled her hand away from the girl and stood up, straightening her coat,

“Is that really the best idea, Y/N?”

Her voice lacked the softness her father’s had, and Y/N’s heart sank as she looked at her mother.

“W-what do you mean?”

Y/N asked, confused. Her mother’s gaze was distant, avoiding her eyes. Her mother spoke, her tone a bit too controlled, too measured,

“It’s just… you pressing charges will cause all this public attention. The media will make a circus of it. Do you really want the whole island knowing about this.”

Her mother’s words hit Y/N like a slap. She blinked, staring at her mother, unable to process the implications of what she was saying. “What… what do you mean?” Y/N repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You want me to just… let him get away with it?”

Her mother sighed, a long, heavy sound. “I just think it would be better if we kept this quiet. The less people know, the better. No one needs to know about this. We can handle it… privately.”

“Marie-”

Who are you?

Her father spoke out looking at his wife with a displeased expression across his face. Y/N’s heart started to pound in her chest. She shook her head in disbelief, she had never expected this reaction from her mother,

“Are you serious? You want to cover this up?”

The words felt like acid in her mouth. Her mother’s eyes hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“I’m not saying it didn’t happen don't put false words into my mouth Y/N, I’m just saying… we need to think about the bigger picture here. Our family’s reputation, your future… This could ruin everything.”

Y/N felt as if the room was spinning. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her mother was more concerned about the family’s image than about her daughter’s pain and suffering. The hurt and anger surged up in her chest, threatening to overtake her.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N muttered, tears welling up again. “You’re more worried about how this will look than about what happened to me?”

Her mother stiffened but didn’t respond right away, her gaze flicking to her father, as if searching for some sort of support but his eyes were already looking at his wife, narrowed slightly. Y/N could feel the distance between them widening, her own mother now a stranger in her eyes. Then, through the rising tension, Y/N spoke, quieter now, her voice small,

“Do you even like me?”

Her words hung in the air, fragile, desperate for an answer. Her mother paused, the words seemingly caught in her throat. After a long silence, she hesitated before speaking.

“Of course I love you,” she replied, but her voice lacked the certainty Y/N had hoped for.

“But do you like me?” Y/N pressed, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions.

Her mother exhaled sharply, clearly unsure of how to respond. “I… I want what’s best for you, Y/N.”

No you don't

The room fell silent once more. Y/N felt a sting in her chest, her heart aching as the reality of her mother��s words sunk in. She didn’t have the strength to argue, her father, sensing the tension, stepped in.

“We’ll talk about this later. Right now, let’s focus on getting better, yes?”

Y/N didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her body felt heavy, like every ounce of energy had been drained from her. Her anger was still there, but it was buried beneath the overwhelming sadness that had taken root.

She turned her gaze away from her mother as the woman walked out the room, looking at the window instead, as if trying to escape the four walls of the room she found herself stuck in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe’s palm rested against the cool brick wall, his fingers clenching the phone tightly, his heart pounding against his ribs. He didn’t know what to expect next, but there was one thing he couldn’t let go of, one person he needed to reach.

I need to talk to her

His eyes darted to the clock on the wall. It'd been hours since he'd been taken in to the precinct and he had no clue if she was okay, if they'd cleaned her up, helped calm her down. The last thing he remembered was her panicked eyes before he got into the police car, Shoupe roughly shutting the doors behind him. Yet most importantly, he didn't even know if she wanted to speak to him, would she refuse to take the call, what if he couldn't hear her voice from the other side of the phone.

“C’mon”

He muttered under his breath as he dialled Sarah’s number, his voice shaking with frustration. The sound of the dial tone rang in his ear, followed by the faint click of the line connecting. After a few moments, Sarah’s voice answered,

“Rafe?” Her tone was laced with concern, “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

He swallowed hard, “They’re arresting me Sarah. I don’t know how long I’ll be here-” His words rushed out, "-just give the phone to Y/N, I need to talk to her.”

There was a slight pause before Sarah responded, her voice soft and understanding. “Yeah, yeah okay...”

He heard the rustling of the phone being handed off, then a soft, shaky breath. The sound of Y/N’s voice was all he needed to hear. It cut through the haze, grounding him.

“Rafe?”

Thank God

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied, his tone soothing, though he could feel the knot in his chest. “I’m at the station, they’re holding me but I’ll be out soon.”

Y/N paused before responding, her voice firm despite the tremor in it. “Are you alright? Are your knuckles okay? I remember they were bleeding.”

Always so observant

Rafe felt his chest tighten at the question. He’d forgotten about the pain in his hand, but hearing her bring it up made his heart stutter, reminding him of times when she would patch him up after things escalated at the boneyard.

“I’m fine, they’re not bad just bruised up, nothing I can’t handle.”

She wasn’t convinced but let out a small hum of acknowledgement. The question was burning in her but she hesitated, unsure if she should say it, her voice was tense as she spoke out,

“Has... has he pressed charges?”

The question hung in the air, and Rafe swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. “No, he hasn’t pressed charges yet. But I’ll make sure we do what’s right for you, okay? I’m just… I’ll be okay, don't worry about me alright- are you okay?”

Y/N paused, the questions weighing heavily on her.

I don't know...

“I'm fine, Rafe. I’m just… trying to figure out what to do. I’m worried about you, I don’t want you to stay there.”

Rafe’s heart ached. “I’m not going anywhere. Just stay strong for me, yeah? I’ll be out of here soon.” He knew the girl was lying, no one would be okay after experiencing what she did, but deep down he knew she was saying so not to worry him further.

“Y/n” He sighed, hand thumping against the wall in front of him, unsure if he should ask her this now, but he needed to know.

“Are you going to press charges against Cooper?”

Y/N’s silence spoke volumes. Rafe knew she was processing everything, trying to figure out what was right. He waited for her to respond, his heart pounding in his chest, he didn’t want to push her but the time on the phone call was running out. Finally, she spoke softly.

“I don’t know, Rafe. I… I don’t know what’s best.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, frustrated with how helpless he felt. “Whatever you decide, I’ll… -I’ll stand by you, no matter what you choose.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, her tone still steady but full of worry. “Just be careful, Rafe, don’t do anything stupid please.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, a soft chuckle escaping him at her concern. “But you’re my priority, yeah? You need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll handle this.”

“I just… I don’t want you to get hurt,” she replied, her voice soft.

I care about you

“I know, I- I won’t. I promise.”

They shared a quiet moment over the phone, both of them trying to find comfort in each other’s words, even though the situation was anything but comforting. As the conversation started to wind down and the phone was passed back to Sarah, Rafe’s voice became more urgent. “Hey, Sarah?” he said, his tone firm but still laced with the stress of the situation.

“This was my one call, so you need to call dad and tell him to come down and get me the hell out of here, I don’t care how, just- I need to get out okay?”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Sarah responded standing from the chair near Y/n's bed and walking over to the window of the room, her voice lower now, not wanting to alert the girl,

“Yeah, I’ll call him,” she said, her tone resigned, “don’t worry, he’ll get you out.”

Rafe exhaled a shaky breath, relief and frustration mixing in his chest. “Thanks.”

“Just… hang in there.”

He let out a small sigh before speaking again, softer this time. “Tell Y/N I’ll be out soon, I don’t want her worrying about me, she doesn’t need that shit.”

“ 'course,” Sarah said, her voice softening at the mention of the girl. Sarah paused, and when she spoke again, her tone softened slightly,

“You know Dad will come through.”

He took a moment, her words sinking in. For the first time, he let himself lean into the comfort of her confidence, even if just a little. But it didn’t erase the gnawing feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah.. this whole thing… it’s just so fucked up.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it faltered slightly.

“I know, Rafe,” she said, her voice softening with a touch of concern, “but you did the right thing- well maybe not entirely but you kept her safe.”

Rafe sighed again, hand rubbing over his face as more out of frustration than anything else. The phone beeped indicating his time was coming to an end, he muttered out,

“Yeah, well, I don’t think anyone sees it that way,”

“I’ll take care of it. Just don't do anything stupid, dad’s coming.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’m waiting.”

The phone call ended with a quiet click, and Rafe leaned back against the wall, his mind racing. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but no matter the cost, he’d make sure that that nobody ever placed their hands on his girl again.

Get me the fuck out of here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The adults were deep in conversation, their voices rising and falling in heated debate over the next steps. Marie and Ward seemed to be clashing again, Andrew attempting to mediate, while Rose sat quietly, interjecting with the occasional remark. The legal jargon and logistics were swirling around Y/N like a cloud, but she wasn’t listening anymore.

She had moved from the couch to the window, the noise behind her fading into a dull hum as she stared out at the darkened sky, palm trees dancing in the growing wind. The faint reflection of the room in the glass showed her parents gesturing animatedly, but she couldn’t focus. Her arms wrapped around her body instinctively, trying to hold herself together. It had been a week since she’d been discharged from the hospital, Ward had gotten Rafe out of jail, although at a high price, and it was clear that Cooper’s family was anything but pleased at the Sheriff's actions. Now, both families were collected at Tannyhill, debating what they were going to do with the situation at hand.

“Hey.”

The low voice startled her, and she turned to see Rafe standing a step away, his expression soft. “You okay?” he asked gently, his hand reaching out to touch her arm.

She flinched. It wasn’t dramatic, just a slight jerk of her body, but it was enough for him to notice. His brows furrowed, and he quickly pulled his hand back, letting it drop to his side.

“Sorry,” he murmured, taking a step closer but keeping his distance.

“No, I’m-” Y/N cleared her throat, trying to steady her voice. “I’m fine. Really.”

But Rafe could see through her words. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure the others were still distracted before returning his focus to her.

“You don’t have to be fine Y/n...”

Y/N shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I just-” She hesitated, her voice cracking slightly. “I just want to make sure Cooper gets what he deserves, I want him in jail. I want him...”

I want him dead

Rafe studied her for a long moment. “You’re right,” he said finally. “He does deserve that but this,” He looked faintly to the room, to the chaos of discussions and decisions swirling around them. “this is a lot, Y/N, for anyone.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Does he think I'm weak?

Her jaw tightened, and she looked up at him her eye's narrowing slightly, “I can handle it.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded slowly, his voice calm. “Okay, just… don't push yourself too far, too fast. Whatever happens, I’m here alright?”

She blinked at him, her irritation at him faltering, “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Always.”

They stood there for a moment in silence, the tension in her body softening under the weight of his steady presence. Behind them, the voices of their families carried on, oblivious to the quiet moment by the window. Their relationship was rather bizarre. Of course both of them knew there was a distance between them, the event’s of Y/n’s party had not gone forgotten, however the girl was less hostile towards the brunette, her gaze often staying on him a second too long so he’d catch her eye. But she wasn’t ready for things to go back to normal between them, just because he’d… intervened on the night of halloween did not mean she’d forgiven him, not fully anyways; his words would sometimes linger in the back of her mind and after what had happened she couldn't help but think they were true.

The room was tense, the air thick with unspoken anxieties, Y/N sat on the couch, her legs curled under her, as Sarah perched beside her, offering silent support. Across the room, Ward paced restlessly, his powerful presence dominating the space. Rafe stood against the wall, his bruised knuckles wrapped in gauze, a storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface. Rose, sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her serene demeanour masking the tension she felt, Marie mirroring her expression. However Andrew, Y/N’s father, exchanged worried glances at the young girl on the couch, as though silently debating how far they should push his daughter on such a delicate subject.

“This isn’t just about what happens next,” Ward said, breaking the silence. “We need to think about the bigger picture. Rafe’s already been charged with assault, and if this goes to trial, it won’t just be about him. It’s going to pull Y/N into the spotlight too.”

Y/N straightened slightly her voice soft, “Because of what Cooper- did…?”

Ward hesitated before nodding. “Yes. That’s going to come out, whether you’re ready for it or not,” his eyes looked at the girl as he spoke out, yet she had to avert her gaze, looking away, feeling oppressed by the man's cold stare.

“She’s not the one who did anything wrong,”

Rafe snapped, his voice sharp as he noticed his father's gaze at the girl, “Why does it matter if it comes out?”

“It shouldn’t matter,” Sarah interjected, her voice rising slightly as she fiddled with the blanket placed between her and Y/n, “but you know how people are, they’ll twist it into something it’s not.”

Andrew leaned forward, addressing Ward directly. “So what are you saying? That Rafe shouldn’t fight this? That he should plead guilty?”

“Of course not,” Ward said with a scoff, halting his pacing.

God forbid someone stains the Cameron name

“But we need to be strategic. If Y/N presses charges, it could complicate Rafe’s case. They’ll try to paint him as an angry kid looking for a fight.”

“That’s not what happened,” Y/N said, her voice wavering as she looked at Ward shaking her head with a small frown, “he was protecting me.”

Rafe’s heart clenched at the girl’s words, his eyes finding hers amongst the uneasiness of the room. Ward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know. We know. But the court doesn’t always care about the truth. They care about what they can prove and how it looks to a jury.”

“Why are you all acting like I was in the fucking wrong”

Rafe said angrily, stepping forward as he gestured around to the parents at the table. Rose spoke for the first time, her voice gentle.

“Rafe, no one is questioning why you did what you did. But the law can be difficult.”

“So, what are you suggesting?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Ward. “That I shouldn’t press charges because it might hurt Rafe’s case?”

“No,” Ward said firmly. “I’m saying we need to think carefully about how we handle this. Your testimony could help Rafe, but it could also backfire if they twist it the wrong way.”

Andrew nodded. “He’s right. If we’re going to fight this, we need to be ready for anything Cooper’s lawyers throw at us, and considering their family deals with law I suspect they've already started planning.”

Marie, who had been quiet until now, glanced at her daughter, her lips pressing into a thin line. She rose from where she sat walking over to her daughter placing her hand on the girl's shoulder as she asked,

“Y/N, maybe… maybe we should handle this quietly hmm? I know it’s not what you want to hear, but think about how much worse it could get if it goes public.”

Seriously?

Rafe's brows pulled down into a frown at the older woman's words, Y/N stared at her mother in disbelief. “Are you saying I should just let this go?”

Marie sighed, tightening her grip slightly. “I’m saying… it might be better to keep this private. No one needs to know.”

“No one needs to know?” Y/N repeated, her voice rising. “He- He assaulted me. He-"

Don't say it-

"Either way if no one does anything, he’s just going to do it again, if not to me then to someone else.”

Rafe moved closer, his voice low and full of conviction. “She’s right he deserves worse.”

Ward looked at Rafe sharply. “Justice isn’t always that simple. You know that well enou-"

"Okay!"

Sarah leaned forward, her hands resting on Y/N’s knee. “Can we just stop acting like this is a chess game? Y/N deserves to make her decision without feeling guilty about how it affects Rafe’s case.”

Rose nodded in agreement. “Sarah’s right. We can support both of them. We just need to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Y/N turned to Rafe, her voice soft but steady. “Have you thought about what’s next for you- I mean, with Cooper pressing charges...”

Rafe hesitated, glancing at his father. “Yeah. I talked to the lawyer this morning. They’re saying it depends on what Cooper’s camp does. If they push for jail time…” He trailed off, jaw tightening.

Ward finished for him. “They’re pushing for jail time. Cooper’s family has money, connections from New York. They’re not going to let this go easily.”

Y/N’s hands balled into fists on her lap as she looked down at them, Andrew's worried gaze darted to his daughter as his wife's voice spoke up,

“Y/N, you don’t understand how this works. If you press charges, they’re going to drag you through the mud to defend Cooper and they’ll use Rafe’s case to make you both look bad.”

Is she always this much of a bitch-

Andrew reached for his daughter’s hand, his voice calm but firm. “Sweetheart, if you’re sure you want to press charges, we’ll stand by you. But you need to be ready for what’s coming.”

Y/N met her father’s steady gaze, a small frown on her face. “I am ready.”

Ward looked at Rafe, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the table, “And you need to be prepared too. Cooper’s lawyers are going to argue that you acted out of rage, not defense. I’ll talk to the Thorton's about it, see if they can help in court.”

Marie leaned forward, her voice softer now. “Y/N, are you sure you want to go through with this? It’s not just about Cooper. It’s about everything that comes after…”

Y/N’s hands trembled, but her voice didn’t waver. “I’m sure, I’m not going to let him win.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the decision settling over them.

Ward nodded, his voice firm. “Then we fight for both of you. No hesitation.”

Y/N looked at Rafe, and he looked back, their mutual understanding unspoken but clear. They were in this together whether they liked it or not, no matter how messy it got.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was quiet again after the tension of the family meeting. The echoes of Ward’s commanding voice and Marie’s sharp tones seemed to linger in the air the voice’s heard from the nearby office, but now it was just Rafe and Y/N sitting on the couch. The dim light of the living room lamp cast long shadows across their faces, and the weight of everything unsaid hung heavily between them. Rafe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly. He’d been quiet ever since their parents left, staring at the floor like it held answers to questions he couldn’t answer. Y/N sat next to him, her knees tucked under her, fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on the blanket she held in her lap. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Are you okay?” her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

What?

Rafe scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “You’re the one asking if I’m okay?” He glanced at her, his blue eyes tired but sincere.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Probably

“I mean… yeah,” she said, hesitating. “But… I don’t know. You’ve got so much going on with… everything.”

“So do you,” he countered quickly, leaning back and crossing his arms. “You shouldn’t be worrying about me right now.” He stopped, exhaling sharply, trying to control the frustration he felt, not at her, but at everything else. Y/N looked to him, her voice firmer this time.

“Rafe I mean it, are you okay?”

He let the question hang in the air for a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m so pissed. I’m pissed at Cooper, at the cops, at my dad for acting like he can buy his way out of this.” His hand hit softly against the edge of the couch as he spoke, he glanced at her again, his jaw tight. “I’m pissed at myself for not finding you sooner, for-” His voice faltered, and he looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Get your shit together

“Rafe,” she said softly, hand moving slightly closer to his which now rested against the cushion of the couch between them. “It’s not your fault, c’mon don’t do this to yourself.” She shook her head slightly as the words passed her lips.

“You don’t know that,” he muttered, not looking at her.

“I do,” she said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you- you were protecting me.”

You saved my life what if he-

“And now Cooper’s trying to fucking flip this, like I’m the bad guy?”

He sighed, leaning forward again as he pointed his fingers into his chest angrily before he rubbed a hand over his face.

“And you pressing charges against him- it’s the right thing to do, but… it’s going to cause so many problems. They’re going to try to twist everything around and make it look like it wasn’t what it was; they’re gonna talk about you but you don't deserve that shit.”

Her eye’s flickered over the boy, noticing his leg moving restlessly, jaw clenched. “I don’t care what they try to do,” she said, her voice shaking with conviction. “We’re not going to let him get away with it.”

Rafe turned to look at her, his gaze searching hers. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“...no” she admitted. “I don’t think I ever will be, but if I don’t… who else is going to stand up to him?” She looked down at her lap, her voice quieter now.

“I’m scared, but I’m more scared of him doing this to someone else. I can’t live with that… knowing I could’ve prevented it.”

He looked at her, taking in the bruises wrapped around her neck, now a deep purple. He looked down to her hand, wrist tainted in the same coloring, a mocking reminder of what had happened. His hand moved forward slightly, fingers resting inches away from hers.

“You’re braver than I am, you know?”

No I'm not

She shook her head, a small, sad smile on her lips. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything they were facing pressing down on them. Finally, Y/N looked up at him,

“We’re going to figure this out, right?”

“Yeah we will, no matter what.”

Rafe nodded, though his expression was still somber. As they sat together in the dimly lit room, the sound of the wind rattling the windows outside, Y/N realized something: for the first time in days, she didn’t feel completely alone. The silence stretched between her and Rafe, heavy but not uncomfortable- just the weight of everything they’d been through present upon both their shoulders.

Rafe shifted slightly, his hand still resting near hers, he had the undeniable urge to take her hand in his but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. He already was overcome with relief every time she spoke to him, thanking whatever higher power that she would look at him rather than shut him out.

I don't deserved it.

His jaw tightened, like he was working up the courage to say something, but nothing came. Y/N glanced at him, noticing the way his gaze lingered on the floor, the corners of his mouth downturned. The memory of their last real conversation- the one before Cooper, before everything else that had happened- suddenly pushed its way into her mind. The words she’d said, the way his voice had cut through her like glass, it all replayed vividly. Those two months that she had spent away from him were agony, and she wished it had never come to that. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurring, before she finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Rafe looked up sharply, his brows drawing together in confusion as he noticed the tears collecting on her lower lashes.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, louder this time, though her voice still cracked. Tears welled up in her eyes as she forced herself to meet his gaze.

“For what I said to you that night for—” Her breath hitched as she fought to keep her composure. “For calling you a junkie I shouldn’t have… that wasn’t fair.”

Rafe’s face softened instantly, the lines of tension around his mouth easing. He opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N kept going.

“-and for slapping you,” she added, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I shouldn’t have, I never should’ve done that it was disgus-”

“Stop,” Rafe interrupted gently, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” she insisted. “I was angry, I was so, so angry and I took it out on you but I shouldn’t have said that. I just… I didn’t know how else to handle it. Seeing you in his room…”

She trailed off, biting her lip to stop it from trembling, her hand coming up to wipe the tear off her skin. Rafe’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “You weren’t wrong,” he said quietly, his voice rough.

“I shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t have been doing that. And I… I shouldn’t have called you what I did.” He exhaled shakily, as he turned his body to face her properly now, “That was so fucked up Y/n, and I hate that I said it I don’t even know where the words came from I- you didn’t deserve that.”

Y/N blinked at him, her tears spilling freely now. She said softly,

“You meant it though-”

“-no, no I didn’t.”

Rafe said quickly, his voice firm. He frantically pushed his hair out of his face shaking his head at her,

“I didn’t. I was angry and so fucking stupid, and I wanted to hurt you because… because you were right. If you think that’s what I think of you I- I would be a fucking fool to think that of you…”

Her breath hitched at his honesty, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I’m sorry”

He said again, his voice breaking. His eyes were glossy now too, his usual bravado stripped away.

“For everything. For that night, it was…- it was your fucking birthday and I just- I’m so sorry and-”

Rafe shifted beside her, his jaw tight, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart constricting at the tension in his features.

“What I said about your brother I-”

The memory made her chest ache, she looked away shaking her head slowly the air was thick with the debris of unspoken emotions. She didn’t know why, but suddenly she was back in her brother’s room, Rafe’s words from that night slicing through her mind. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping slightly.

“Y/N…please look at me…”

Please, please-

Her voice was trembling as it rose from her throat, “Seeing you in his room- doing coke- it just…” She broke off, shaking her head as tears slipped down her cheeks. “I couldn’t handle it and…”

She couldn’t find her voice to finish the sentence, her hand rising to her face once again to wipe the salt water off her cheeks. Rafe was silent for a moment, his throat tightening.

“You had every right to be mad,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I shouldn’t have been in there- I shouldn’t have been doing that. I- I shouldn’t have said what I said to you.”

Y/N lifted her head, her tear-streaked face meeting his regretful gaze. “You told me to get over it,” she said softly, her voice shaking.

“...that I should just forget about him.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I said that, and I didn’t mean it. I just…I was hurt because you were with-... It doesn’t matter but I wanted to hurt you too and I know it was a petty thing to do...” He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration with himself evident.

“I was being selfish.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face now, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. “It felt like everything you’d ever said to me about him was a lie. After he died, Rafe you were the only one I would go to, it felt like.. It felt like you didn’t mean any of it like- like none of it was true” She trailed off, shaking her head as she struggled to put her feelings into words as she pursed her lips together.

“That room is all I have left of him. And you just… how could you do that to me Rafe?”

“I know, I know- ”

Rafe said again, his voice breaking. “I was an asshole, and I hate that I said that to you, I hate that I hurt you I-” He stopped letting out a breath, he could feel the lump growing in his throat as he spoke,

“I’ve never regretted anything more in my life than what I did. Those two months we were apart, not a day went by where I didn’t feel guilty about what I said… I- I’ve never been so miserable-”

A soft sniffle cut through the air, and Y/N’s eyes flicked up from the floor to meet his. Her breath caught in her throat. Rafe’s eyes were bloodshot, glistening with tears that slipped freely down his flushed cheeks. His chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, and his hand gripped the back of the couch like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His other hand came up, roughly swiping at his tears, but more fell, relentless.

“I was so- fuck. I was so alone and I lo- I care about you so much I’m so sorry-”

His voice shattered, and he dropped his head forward, the palms of his hands came up roughly to rub his eyes as the sobs broke free, raw and unfiltered. His entire body shook with the weight of it, like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Y/N stared at him, her heart twisting painfully in her chest. She’d never seen him like this- so vulnerable.

What are you doing man up fucking man up

It made something inside her crack.

Slowly, she shifted forward, inching closer to him. Her hands trembled at her sides, the feeling of fear, terror of someone touching her, of touching someone, it still clung to her, making her hesitate, but the sight of him crumbling in front of her pulled her forward.

It's okay, it's just Rafe he'd never do anything to you

Her hand reached out, hovering in the air, uncertain, before she gently placed it on his arm. The contact was featherlight, almost unsure, but it was enough. Rafe’s head lifted slightly, his tear-filled eyes locking onto hers in surprise.

She gave him a small, fragile smile- barely there, but it was something, and that was all he needed.

Rafe blinked, and without thinking, she moved closer, her arms slowly wrapping around him. Her heart pounded in her chest, loud and anxious, but she didn’t let go. She pressed herself into him, holding him tightly, and for a moment, Rafe froze. Then, carefully, his arms came around her. He pulled her in, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat. His chin rested on the top of her head, and he let out a broken breath, his body still trembling.

“I’ll never- ever- do that to you again,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry- I’m so fucking sorry.”

I love you

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes, spilling over as she held him tighter. “It’s okay,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. Rafe’s arms tightened around her, but his hold was careful- gentle in a way that made Y/N’s chest ache. His hand moved slowly, fingers smoothing over her hair with a tenderness that made her eyes sting.

“I’ve missed you so much”

He breathed out, his voice hoarse and uneven, barely holding together. Y/N’s grip on him faltered for a second, her heart thudding in her chest. For the first time since halloween, someone’s touch didn’t feel threatening. It didn’t feel wrong. She let out a shaky breath, her body slowly starting to relax into him.

“I’ve missed you too”

She whispered, the words fragile but honest. Rafe let out a soft, broken sound- half sigh, half sob- and tucked her closer, like he still couldn’t believe she was in his arms, he never thought it would happen again. His hand continued its slow, calming path through her hair, grounding both of them.

“I swear I’ll- I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

I love you so fucking much

He murmured, his voice cracking. Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her face into his shoulder as she let out a quiet hum. Neither of them moved to let go, they stayed locked in that quiet, fragile moment, holding onto each other as if letting go would shatter them both.

"Y/n I lo-"

A knock at the door startled both of them.

Y/N’s head snapped up as she instinctively moved away from Rafe, body tense again. Her fingers twisted in the hem of her hoodie, and her eyes darted toward the door like it might burst open on its own. Rafe noticed immediately.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he reached for her hand. “You’re safe yeah, It’s probably just Sarah or Wheezie.”

She nodded but didn’t look entirely convinced, her nerves still on edge. He squeezed her hand once before letting go and heading for the door, eyes flickering back to the girl who remained on the couch. When he opened it, a familiar voice filled the quiet space.

“Did someone order a party?”

It was Kelce, grinning like he owned the place, holding a cake box in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. Topper stood behind him, awkwardly clutching a bouquet of slightly wilted flowers, clearly unsure what to do with them.

“Jesus,” Rafe muttered, his voice slightly hoarse as he wiped his face quickly off any tears left on his cheeks, “What are you guys doing here?”

Kelce pushed past him into the house, offering the cake out like a peace offering. “We figured you two could use a little cheering up, s’been a rough week. Cake makes everything better, right?”

Y/N appeared in the doorway of the living room after hearing the boys’ voices, her nervousness giving way to curiosity. She looked at the bouquet in Topper’s hand, then up at him, a small flicker of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Flowers?”

Topper shrugged, looking sheepish. “I panicked. They were next to the bakery.”

“Nice touch,” Rafe said dryly, shutting the door behind them. Kelce held up the box like it was a prized trophy.

“Chocolate cake aaannnnnd, because we’re such thoughtful friends, beer for me and Topper- ” He pulled something from the grocery bag, holding it out to Rafe. “-some bandages for your beat-up knuckles.”

Rafe stared at the box of bandages and rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “You guys are idiots.”

“You’re welcome,” Kelce said, completely unfazed.

Y/N stepped forward hesitantly, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “You didn’t have to do this.” Her eye’s flickered over everything they’d started taking out on the kitchen table.

Are those hello kitty band-aids?

“Of course we did,” Topper said, setting the flowers on the counter. “You’ve both had a tough week so consider this… a friendship intervention?”

Kelce set the cake on the table and began rummaging through drawers, searching for plates. “We’re not saying cake and beer will solve all your problems, but hey, it’s a start.”

Y/N let herself lean against one of the stools by the island, a real, albeit small, smile forming on her lips as she watched the two boys bicker over who got the bigger slice of cake. Rafe leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, observing the scene. His eyes flicked to Y/N, who caught him watching and gave him a shy smile.

“Feeling better?” he asked softly, just for her to hear.

She nodded. “A little.”

“Good,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the moment. “Because apparently they’re not leaving until we ‘eat that damn cake’.”

Y/N laughed—a light, genuine sound that made both Topper and Kelce look up in surprise. “Hey, if you’re laughing,” Kelce declared, pointing his fork at her, “then we’re doing our job right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of easy conversation, a brief reprieve from the storm they all knew was still brewing. For a little while, it was just friends and cake, and Y/n found herself forgetting about the events of the past couple of weeks.

Topper managed to pull up a movie on the TV, one they had all watched together countless times when they were kids. The flickering title screen of an old animated film illuminated the room, and the familiar opening music filled the space. Y/N looked at the screen for a second, her lips curving slightly at the sight of something so familiar and comforting;

“I forgot about this movie,” she said softly.

“Yeah, we used to watch it all the time at my place, right?” Kelce chimed in, sitting down with his slice of cake. Y/N let out a soft giggle, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

“You’d always eat all the Twizzlers before the movie and end up falling asleep halfway through.”

“Hey, I was a growing boy!” Kelce protested, but there was no real heat behind his words.

“Yeah, well, it was more like a sugar coma,”

Rafe teased from the other side of the room, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Topper leaned back on the couch with a sigh, his eyes focused on the screen but his mind clearly drifting.

“I remember watching this with you guys, like, what? Ten years ago? I don’t think we really appreciated how good we had it back then.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for just a moment, the weight of everything that had happened creeping back into her thoughts. She shook her head slightly, trying to push the darkness aside. “Yeah, things were so easy…” she said, her voice quiet. Rafe glanced at her from across the room, his expression softening.

Don't do that

“It wasn’t all easy,” he said quietly, his eyes on the TV but his mind on the past, “Remember the time we got stuck in Topper’s treehouse after you dared me to climb it without the ladder and I broke my arm?”

Y/N laughed despite herself, the sound light and genuine. “I never made you climb it. You insisted on it, and then-” She paused for effect. “-you screamed like a girl when you fell.”

“That’s because it fucking hurt, Y/N,” Rafe shot back, rolling his eyes but clearly amused. “And I was eight, so sue me.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know Rafe was a pussy from an early age,” Topper chimed in with a grin. “But I gotta admit, that was pretty funny.”

Y/N snickered, shaking her head as she leaned back into the couch. “You guys were a mess, honestly. All I did was watch.”

“Liar,” Rafe said, raising an eyebrow at her. “You used to egg us on.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” she said, her eyes softening as she glanced at him.

“Good times.” Topper added, shaking his head.

Y/N smiled faintly. “Good times,” she agreed, her voice wistful.

The room settled into a comfortable silence as the movie continued to play, and as the night wore on, the group grew more relaxed. The movie had long since become background noise, with everyone scattered around the room. Topper and Kelce were sprawled out on the other couch, barely paying attention to the screen as they were more focused on the conversation that was slowly developing between Rafe and Y/N.

Y/N’s feet were comfortably resting next to Rafe’s lap, her body slumped into the couch as exhaustion from the past few days started to settle in. It had been an emotional rollercoaster, but right now, in this peaceful moment, she felt safe. Rafe absentmindedly rested his hand on her foot, his touch comforting and steady. Kelce, catching sight of their proximity, exchanged a knowing look with Topper. They were both silent for a beat, as if contemplating whether to ask the question hanging in the air. Finally, Topper broke the silence with a raised eyebrow.

“So…” He gave a small grin. “We didn’t want to ask before, but are you two, good now? I mean, last time we checked, it was a bit…”

Rafe and Y/N exchanged glances. She couldn’t help but smile, a warmth blossoming in her chest at the question. Rafe returned her gaze, his expression softening as he squeezed her foot gently, a silent reassurance.

“We’re good,” Rafe said, his voice steady, though there was a hint of relief in it as he glanced down at Y/N, giving her a quiet smile. Y/N nodded slowly, her lips curving upward humming back in agreement. Kelce raised an eyebrow but didn’t press any further, exchanging a knowing glance with Topper.

“Well, good,” Kelce said, his tone light but with an edge of relief. “About time, right?”

Smug assholes

Topper smiled. “We were both waiting for that.”

The weight of the past few days hadn’t disappeared, but in this moment, surrounded by the people who cared about her and Rafe, it felt a little bit lighter. However the comfort couldn’t stay forever, the atmosphere shifted once again, this time taking a more serious turn. Topper and Kelce were leaning forward on the couch now, their attention focused on Rafe and Y/N, ready to face the reality of what was happening.

“So… Cooper’s pressing charges against you?”

Party's over

Kelce asked, his tone trying to sound casual but not fully hiding the tension in his voice. Rafe’s eyes flicked briefly to Y/N before he answered.

“Yeah. He’s pressing charges,” Rafe muttered, his jaw clenching slightly as if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. “But we’re gonna handle it.”

Y/N looked over at him, her gaze heavy with both concern and support. “And um… I’m going to press charges against him,” she said quietly, “you know, for what he did...”

The room grew heavy with the weight of her words, Topper and Kelce exchanged an uncertain glance, the truth of the situation sinking in as they processed her decision.

“You sure about that?” Topper asked, his voice quieter than usual, a note of concern underlining his words. Y/N nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I have to, I can’t let him get away with it.”

Topper nodded at her in support, “I’ll see if I can get my pop’s in the court for the hearing… I doubt the Millers will know about him being family.”

Rafe looked at him, his lips pursed as he turned to the girl, sending her a small reassuring smile. “We’ve got your back, always,” his voice was steady despite the turmoil around them.

For a moment, Y/N felt herself ease slightly, the weight of her upcoming choices lessened by boys’ presence, their unspoken promise to stand with her. However, when a new question arose in her mind she hesitated for a moment, her fingers nervously tapping on the armrest as she swallowed hard, trying to find her voice.

“Do people… do people know?”

Please say no

Her voice cracked just slightly, the raw vulnerability in her words making everyone in the room pause. Topper and Kelce looked at each other, uncertainty flickering between them. Neither knew how to answer immediately, neither of them wanted to add to her problems, but Y/N could see it in their eyes, and she knew she was bound to hear something she didn't want to. She sat up a little, her heart pounding, and looked at them, almost pleading with her eyes.

“Please,” she said, “tell me the truth.”

Topper sighed, looking down before he looked back up at her. “Yeah. People know… There’s been talk. There was a video… of you, uh, crying.” He winced, as if just saying it was enough to make him uncomfortable. “We don’t know how much it’s been spread, but…” He trailed off, not wanting to say more, but the reality was clear.

Y/N’s hand immediately came up to her face, biting the nail of her thumb to try to block out the sting of embarrassment. She felt her chest tighten, the overwhelming shame flooding in once again.

She hadn’t been prepared for this.

“It’s… it’s not just you crying…”

-what?

Kelce continued, choosing his words carefully. “It’s after Rafe broke down the door, when he found you… your nose’s bleeding, and your dress is uh- well it’s ripped. Someone caught it on their phone.”

Y/N froze, her stomach churning. She felt like the world was crumbling around her. The image they painted in her mind of that moment made her stomach twist in shame. She couldn’t help the feeling of being completely exposed, the thought of others seeing her in such a vulnerable state made her feel sick. The image she’d worked so hard to create, of the perfect ‘Kook Princess’ was no longer valid, and she knew that everyone knew that. Her breath caught in her throat, and she fought the urge to cry, the weight of the situation heavier than she’d imagined. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the reality of it all, her voice barely escaped, merely a whisper,

“I didn’t want anyone to see that…”

Topper gave a small, understanding nod, his voice softer now. “Listen,” he started gently, “I know it’s a lot to deal with, and I’m sorry, but…” He paused, searching for the right words.

“Most people, they’re on your side, Y/N, they’re behind you.”

Y/N’s gaze lifted from her hands, her eyes still clouded with shame, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression now. “You really think so?” she asked quietly, barely above a whisper. Kelce, noticing the shift in her demeanor, leaned forward, his expression softening,

“Look- Kooks, Pogues, they’re all behind you, Y/N. People care. Last week at the country club, apparently Matty overheard someone talking shit about it and uh- you remember Elijah?”

“The guy who crushed his dad’s yacht?” Rafe asked, his eyebrows drawing down in curiosity.

“Yeah yeah, you remember?” He looked over to the girl who sent him a small nod in return.

“So Elijah called this guy out in front of everyone there, gave him a lecture, said he was a ‘shit talker with no future’, I really wish I was there. And then- imagine this- management escorted the guy out and revoked his family's membership.”

Her brows raised as the boy finished talking, taken aback by the story, taken aback by the fact that people were so involved in what had happened, and not in the way she was expecting. “Yeah,” Kelce confirmed, his voice firm but kind as he noticed the girl's surprise,

“People see what happened to you, and they’re with you, not with him.”

For a moment, Y/N stayed silent, processing their words. She had been so worried about the fallout, the judgment, the rumors. But hearing that people were on her side, eased the tight knot in her chest, just a little. She looked at Rafe, her words a little shaky.

“I just… I feel like everyone’s seeing me as something I’m not.”

“You’re not defined by that video, or by anyone else’s opinions. We’ll make sure of that.” Rafe’s voice spoke out, low and soothing.

I'll make sure of it

Y/N took a deep breath, wiping her face with the back of her hand, the sting of her earlier tears still there but the fire of resolve slowly taking its place. “Thanks,” she said softly to the guys, her voice quiet.

“It helps… hearing that.”

Topper and Kelce exchanged another glance. They could see how much this was hurting her, and while they couldn’t fight this battle for her, they had her back, she was like their sister.

Topper cleared his throat, his voice low but firm. “We’re with you, Y/N. No matter what.”

Kelce shook his head in agreement, then smirked. “Yeah, and if anyone’s got a problem with you, they can catch these hands… or Topper’s.”

“Yeah cause you cry like a bitch when you bruise your knuckles”

“Man shut the fuck up”

Y/n rolled her eyes amused at their banter, but she had a nagging question at the back of her mind, from the moment they told her about the video. She cleared her throat as she spoke,

“Whose video was it?”

Topper and Kelce stopped shoving each other pausing in hesitance, neither of them seemed to have an answer. “I don’t know,” Topper admitted, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just kind of circulating, you know? People saw it and… well, it got around.”

“Have you guys… do you have it?” she asked, a growing sense of urgency in her tone as she picked at the skin on her thumb. Topper’s face turned serious, and he shifted uncomfortably.

“Look, Y/N, maybe it’s best if you don’t see it. Honestly…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. Kelce nodded in agreement, glancing down at his phone, his discomfort palpable.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s pretty bad. We didn’t want you to have to relive that.”

“Please,” she said, her voice stronger now, her eyes pleading.

“Y/n-” Rafe spoke out his hand pushing his hair out of the way. He knew the girl was desperate to see what everyone else had but something gnawed at him, a feeling of unease which made him cautious about the girl seeing the footage.

Don't do this to yourself

“Send it to me, I deserve to see it. It’s not fair that everyone else has seen it but I haven't.”

Topper and Kelce exchanged glances, both of them hesitating for a moment longer looking over to the boy sitting next to Y/n in uncertainty but he simply let out a sigh, his head nodding ever so slightly, so they reluctantly agreed. Kelce fingers worked upon the screen of his phone, and in seconds her pocket was vibrating. She pulled her phone out of her pocket with sweaty palms, her fingers were shaky as she clicked on the message the video opened.

Her heart sank as the footage played before her eyes.

There she was- barely clothed, a version of herself she barely recognized. Her face was blotched with dried blood, streaked across her hairline and crusted beneath her nose. Her cheeks were stained with tears,, body visibly trembling; the video on the screen was muted, but she didn’t need sound to know she was sobbing because her chest heaved in shallow, rapid breaths, her lips quivering. Her dress- once something soft and beautiful- hung in tatters. The delicate ribbons that once tied it together were shredded, barely clinging to her shoulders by fraying threads. The fabric was torn and wrinkled, offering little coverage, leaving her exposed in a way that made her stomach turn. She stared at the screen, frozen, unable to tear her eyes away.

Oh my God-

And suddenly, it wasn’t just a video. It was real again.

The cold floor under her skin, the crushing weight on her chest, the way her limbs felt so heavy, so useless. The panic, the fear, the suffocating helplessness, It all slammed into her at once, like a tidal wave she hadn’t been bracing for.

Her breath hitched painfully in her throat.

Until now, it hadn’t felt real. In the days after the party, her mind had blurred it out, like a fog rolling in to protect her from the truth. She hadn’t let herself think about it—not fully. Whenever the memories clawed their way to the surface, her brain shut them down, drowning them in static. Now, the reality of what Cooper had actually done to her hit her with full force. Without thinking, she got up suddenly, her hand trembling as she gripped the phone. Rafe’s voice was full of concern as he jumped to his feet, trying to keep up with her.

“Woah, woah, slow down, what’s going on?”

“This is-,” Y/N said quickly, her voice quivering. “-this is evidence we can use in court.”

Rafe looked at the girl, not taking his eyes off her slightly jittery frame as he processed what she was saying. The urgency in her voice made it clear that she was ready to expose herself for a chance to take control of the situation but he wasn't sure this was a good idea. Topper stood up from his seat, clearly concerned by the girls reaction, of course he was happy that people’s crude invasion of her privacy was going to at least help in some way, however from the way she gripped the phone in her quivering hold, her eyes flickering down to it’s lit up screen repeatedly he could tell she was on edge. His brows drew down slightly as he opened his mouth to speak out but the girl swiftly turned away from the boys and made her way toward the stairs. Rafe, sensing the urgency in her movements, followed closely behind her.

Shit

“Hey wait! Where are you going?”

He asked as he jogged up to her, his voice a mix of concern and confusion, as his legs moved quickly to keep by her side. Y/N didn’t stop to look back as she continued up the stairs, the video replaying in her hand. Her eyes were glued to the screen, her fingers tightening around her phone. She didn’t answer immediately, her mind focused on one thing,

“We need to show Ward,” she said, her voice almost distant, “We need to show him, so he can send it to the lawyers. It’s… it’s evidence.”

Her steps were steady at first, but as she ascended the staircase, her breathing began to quicken. The video on her phone flickered in her hands, and the reality of what was being shown to her- of what had happened- slowly started to grow heavier. She hadn’t realised it before, but the anxiety was creeping up on her, a tidal wave of panic hitting her chest with every step. Rafe noticed immediately. Her breathing was irregular, quick and shallow, like she was struggling to catch her breath. He’d seen this before- seen her tense up like this, and he knew what was coming.

Shit-

“Hey, hey, slow down,”

Rafe said, his voice firm but gentle. Y/N didn’t hear him at first, her focus still fixated on the screen, her hand holding it as her eyes watched the repeating video as if it might change the painful reality flashing before her eyes. But Rafe, sensing her distress, stepped in front of her, his hand gently took the phone from hers, switching it off and slipping it into his back pocket,

“Y/N, hey, look at me, how about you come sit with me, hmm?”

She shook her head, her hands still trembling, but Rafe didn’t let go, he held his hand out for her to take, his voice unwavering.

I can't, I can't-

“Look at me. Slow down, okay?”

Her breathing was erratic now, chest rising and falling with rapid, uneven gasps. She barely noticed the way her hand was clutching her chest

“Rafe…” Y/N whispered, her hand now twisting the material of her hoodie in her grasp, her breath shallow and quick.

“I… I can’t breathe.”

She leaned against the railing, trying to steady herself, her heart pounding in her chest. Rafe’s eyes softened as he took a step closer her,

“It’s okay, Its okay here-”

He took her hand softly, the panic starting to make her dizzy. She nodded slowly, and Rafe guided her to sit down on the stairs. She lowered herself carefully, her legs feeling weak, and Rafe followed her, sitting a step below her so they were facing each other, still holding her hand to try and ground her.

“Breathe with me,” he reassured her, his voice low and steady. Y/N’s eyes locked onto his, and took a breath in. But it wasn’t enough. Her chest felt tight. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head at him, chest rising and falling as exasperating breaths past her lips.

I can't do this- fuck

“No? That's okay”

He watched the girl as she squeezed her eyes shut, the hand that wasn’t holding onto his was gripping the railing of the banister, his heart clenched as he searched his mind for a way to help her. When he first started going to the therapist Y/n had recommended to him to help with his addiction, Rafe had told him about his lack of control over his emotions, over his actions. He thought it was pointless, because how was a random man he didn't know meant to help him with his problems, when he didn't even understand what he was going through. The therapist had taught him about calming strategies, about the importance of grounding yourself and momentarily, the boy doubted the man’s techniques, he thought they were stupid, but now as he sat here in front of the hyperventilating girl in front of him, he couldn't help but think he needed to send the man a thank you note.

“Just want you to focus on me okay? Can you do that for me Y/n?”

The boy squeezed her hand gently trying to get her attention as he saw the tear roll down her cheek, the girl’s mind clearly spiraling as she struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked at Rafe infront of her, her head moving up and down in a frantic gesture.

“I want you to tell me three things you can hear,” he instructed gently, observing as she nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to center herself as her brows drew down into a small frown of focus.

“I can hear the TV downstairs, my uh- my heartbeat and, and I c-can hear your voice.”

Her words were breathless and her eyes were closed but Rafe smiled at her anyways, “Good job,” he encouraged.

“Now, tell me three things you can feel.”

She took a another shaky breath the grip on her hoodie loosened slightly, as her eyes squeezed together,

“The stairs,” she murmured. “my chest… my heart and… your hand…it’s warm- in mine.”

Rafe nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “Doing so good my sweet girl. Can you do one more for me?”

She could still feel the pressure in her chest, but her breathing had calmed, her lightheadedness retreating, she nodded her head slightly in a ‘yes’.

“What do you see right in front of you?”

Rafe’s voice rang out in her ears and her eyes fluttered open, squinting slightly to adjust to the light before opening fully. She looked around, trying to focus on the details, but her eyes landed on what was right in front of her. She spoke softly, her voice shaking slightly.

“You”

Rafe’s lips curled into a faint, comforting smile, “What about me?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate this time, her voice steady, “Your eyes.”

“You’ve always had a thing for my eyes, huh?” He chuckled softly, his smile widening as he leaned in a little closer. She nodded, the faintest blush rising on her cheeks.

“Always”

Rafe’s smile softened, his hand still holding hers, a gesture that felt oddly comforting in the midst of everything. He leaned back against the stairs, still close but giving her space to breathe.

“Take your time, don’t push yourself so much Princess.”

Her brows drew down slightly as the nickname passed his lips.

Please don't call me that

She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders still tense. She turned her head, resting it back against the railing, and closed her eyes for a moment, still trying to regain her composure. Rafe, watching her closely, stayed quiet for a while, giving her space to process. He knew she was battling a whirlwind of emotions. Fear. Anger. The pressure of what lay ahead. Finally, she opened her eyes again, her gaze soft but still heavy with the weight of everything.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to freak out- I uh, I didn’t realize… it just hit me.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

Rafe said, shaking his head. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, there was a quiet understanding between them. No words needed to be said, they had been through too much together to be embarrassed of each other's fragility. She sighed deeply, looking down before speaking again.

“I just feel like I’m drowning in all of this. It’s not just the case, it’s everything else. The video… and the fact that everyone’s seen it… I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Rafe, who had been leaning forward, put a hand on her knee slowly not wanting to startle her, his touch gentle. “You’re not drowning, okay? You’ve got people here who are fighting with you... I’m fighting with you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes brimming with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. She took another deep breath, hand running over her face to try and regain her composure, this time more steady than before, and stood up slowly, offering a hand to Rafe as she did. He took it, standing up in front of her.

For a moment, they just stood there in silence.

Then, like a thread finally snapping loose, Y/N leaned forward, her body moving on instinct. Her forehead gently pressed against his shoulder, the fabric of his t-shirt soft but solid beneath her skin. She didn’t say anything- didn’t need to. Her body sagged slightly, the tension in her muscles slowly starting to uncoil as if letting herself go as she breathed in the comforting scent of the boy. Rafe stilled for only a moment, surprised by how vulnerable she allowed herself to be. Then, without thinking, his hand lifted and rested softly on the back of her head, his touch was light, careful. Protective.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, voice low and steady near her ear. His thumb brushed lightly against her hair.

“I’ve got you, yeah? You’re safe.”

A soft hum left her lips, barely audible, but it was enough for him. Her shoulders dropped slightly, the last of her rigid posture melting away as she leaned into him more, hand coming up to rest on his chest. The storm inside her, though still rumbling, quieted just a little in his hold. Rafe didn’t move, not wanting to destroy the perfect tranquility formed between them.

He just stayed there, holding her like he had all the time in the world, his hand cradling her head and his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.

I love you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616 @slut-4-gojo @louxmcl @stelleduarte @p0gue420

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leona-hawthorne · 1 day ago

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lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “needs rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

#lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x y/n #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #slytherin #harry potter #louis partridge #character analysis #lorenzo berkshire x female reader

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missarchive · 2 days ago

Note

hiii love ur writing! i saw u were looking for asks/requests soooo here is one :) maybe you could do something with emily prentiss and hotch’s little sister reader and they’re in a secret but serious relationship and somehow hotch finds out? tyyy

thank you, angel! i hope you enjoy <3

cw; nothing really, just fluff, hotch being an older brother

The day starts like any other—quiet coffee with Emily in your kitchen before she leaves for work. Her tie is loose around her neck, and you step closer to fix it, brushing your fingers along the fabric.

“You know you don’t have to do this every morning,” she teases, her dark eyes sparkling as she watches you.

“Maybe I just like an excuse to touch you,” you reply, grinning as you tighten the knot perfectly.

Emily leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, her hands resting lightly on your hips. “I’ll see you later?”

“Always,” you say softly.

She grabs her bag and heads out, and you go about your morning, completely unaware of the bombshell waiting to drop.

Later that evening, you’re at Aaron’s apartment, invited over for one of his rare “family nights.” It’s just the two of you tonight, a chance to catch up over takeout and bad movies like you used to before life got so complicated.

You’re seated on his couch, flipping through channels while he sorts out the food.

“So,” he says casually as he walks back into the room, setting the containers on the coffee table, “how long have you and Emily been dating?”

The remote slips from your hand, clattering to the floor. Your mouth goes dry as you whip your head around to look at him.

“What?”

Aaron raises an eyebrow, entirely calm as he opens his container of lo mein. “You and Emily. How long?”

You blink at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lets out a soft huff of laughter, shaking his head. “Y/N, I’m a profiler. You two aren’t exactly subtle.”

Heat rises to your face, and you scramble for something—anything—to say. “We’ve been careful,” you stammer.

Aaron gives you a pointed look. “You might think that, but I’ve noticed the way you look at each other. And the fact that she’s been dropping you off at odd hours when I’ve called. You’re my sister. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

You stare at him, waiting for the explosion that doesn’t come. Instead, he takes a bite of his food and shrugs.

“Look,” he says after swallowing, “as long as you’re both happy, I don’t have a problem with it. Emily’s a good person. And if she makes you happy, then that’s all that matters to me.”

You’re too stunned to speak. “You’re... okay with this?”

He gives you a small smile. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re an adult, and so is she. Just don’t bring any drama to the team. Other than that, you have my blessing.”

“Wow,” you murmur, slumping back against the couch. “I thought you’d freak out or lecture us about boundaries.”

Aaron chuckles softly. “I’m not as uptight as you think, Y/N. Besides, I know Emily will take care of you. And if she doesn’t, well... she knows what I’m capable of.”

You laugh, the tension melting from your shoulders. “I think you might’ve scared her enough already.”

“Good,” he says lightly, reaching for the remote. “Now, are we watching this movie or not?”

The rest of the night passes without a hitch, but you can’t stop smiling. When you tell Emily later, she stares at you in disbelief before breaking into a relieved laugh.

“Well,” she says, pulling you into her arms, “that’s one less thing to worry about.”

#missarchive #mj answers #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss

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bestalbertcamuslover · 14 hours ago

Text

Their Daughter's First Breakup

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Having a teenager was rough. Teenagers experience so much—the highs and the lows—and the lows can get very, very low sometimes. Everything feels like a burden, even the smallest of inconveniences, which we only realize are small when we look at them in the rearview.

Charlotte, their daughter, had just come home. y/n had come home from work not too much earlier.

“Hey, how was your day?” she asked her daughter with a soft smile, “did they gave you that biology test you said ‘it went so bad’,” she added, knowing that despite her thoughts she would end up with an outstanding grade.

“Yeah, an A,” Charlotte responded, through her tone giving away she was not in the mood.

The kitchen was quiet except for the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of dishes as she tidied up. Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, poking at a bowl of cereal with her spoon, her expression distant.

She could sense something was off—Charlotte wasn’t her usual chatty self. Even her response about the biology test, which normally would’ve been delivered with pride or an exaggerated tale of woe, had been flat.

“An A, huh?” she said, trying to keep her tone light as she leaned against the counter. “I knew you’d ace it. You always do, even when you swear it’s the end of the world.”

Charlotte shrugged, her eyes fixed on her cereal. “Yeah, I guess.”

Her mother frowned slightly, setting the dish towel down and walking over to the table. She sat across from Charlotte, folding her hands on the table. “What’s going on, sweetheart? You’ve been extremely quiet”

“Nothing,” Charlotte replied too quickly, her voice tinged with irritation.

She tilted her head, her eyes soft with concern. “Charlotte…”

Her daughter sighed, her shoulders slumping as she finally set the spoon down. “It’s just… I’m tired, okay? School was long, and people were annoying, and…” She trailed off, her voice catching slightly.

“...And?”

Charlotte hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing’s stupid if it’s bothering you,” her mom said gently, reaching across the table to rest a hand on Charlotte’s. “Talk to me, love.”

Charlotte looked down, her eyes welling up despite her best efforts to keep it together. “Liam… broke up with me,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her heart clenched as she watched her daughter fight back tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, getting up to move around the table and sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around Charlotte, who did not resist the hug but leaned into her instead.

“It’s so dumb,” Charlotte said, her voice muffled against her shoulder. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not like we were together that long, but… it just hurts.”

“It’s not dumb,” her mom reassured her, rubbing her back soothingly. “It hurts because it mattered to you. And it’s okay to feel that way.”

Charlotte sniffled, pulling back slightly. “I just don’t get it. He said I was ‘too much’ or something. Like, what does that even mean?”

Her mom’s brow furrowed. “It means he didn’t know how lucky he was to have you,” she said firmly. “And that’s his loss, not yours.”

Charlotte let out a watery laugh, wiping her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” she countered, cupping Charlotte’s face gently. “You’re smart, kind, and funny, and anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. Liam clearly wasn’t ready for someone as amazing as you.”

Charlotte smiled faintly, her tears starting to slow. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Always, love,” she said, pulling her into another hug. “Breakups suck, I know, but as far as I’m concerned no one has died from one,” she added, her tone lighter, trying to make her chuckle.

“I could be the first case,” her daughter chuckled slightly, still leaning into the embrace.

“Nope, not happening with me around,” she said softly, “I promise, it will pass, now it hurts, but it will pass, it always does, okay?”

Charlotte nodded, her face still slightly teary.

“And while it does pass,” her mom started, “do you want to do something, maybe go shopping, you know to speed up the process,” she suggested with a light grin.

Charlotte wiped her eyes, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah, okay. Shopping sounds nice,” she said softly.

Her mom grinned, a spark of relief lighting up her expression. “Perfect..”

Charlotte chuckled lightly, the sound still a bit shaky but genuine. “You’re really just looking for an excuse to go shopping, aren’t you?”

“Busted,” her mom teased, nudging her gently. “But seriously, a little retail therapy never hurt anyone. Go get ready, and I’ll grab my purse.”

“Okay,” Charlotte said, standing up from the table. The weight in her chest felt a bit lighter now, even if the ache of the breakup still lingered.

As Charlotte headed upstairs to change, her mom lingered in the kitchen, pulling out her phone to text Toto.

Taking Charlotte out for a little mother-daughter shopping trip. She had a rough day. Will fill you in later.

Moments later, Toto replied: Got it. Let me know if you need me to join. Give her a hug from me.

Smiling at his message, she slipped her phone into her bag and turned toward the stairs. “Ready when you are, Charlotte!” she called out.

Charlotte appeared a few minutes later, her eyes still slightly puffy but her expression more relaxed. “Let’s go.”

With a reassuring smile, her mom wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they headed to the car. “This is going to be fun, you’ll see.”

Charlotte leaned into her slightly, grateful for the comfort. “Thanks, Mom. For everything.”

“Always, sweetheart,” she said warmly, starting the Mercedes.

Later, almost night, the car pulled into the driveway late in the evening, the headlights casting long shadows against the house. Charlotte and her mom stepped out, the trunk bursting with shopping bags from every upscale store they had visited. Charlotte’s laughter rang through the quiet evening as she struggled to carry her share of the bags.

“Okay, okay, I think I went a little overboard,” her mom admitted with a laugh, balancing a few bags on her arms.

“You think?” Charlotte teased, a playful smile lighting up her face. She looked more like herself again, her earlier heartbreak now a distant hum rather than a sharp pang.

She smiled fondly as she glimpsed that very genuine smile on her daughter’s face. The evening went really well, not only due to the shopping, which contributed greatly, but the company.

They juggled the bags to the door, and as soon as it opened, they were greeted by the warm glow of the foyer lights. The familiar scent of home wrapped around them like a comforting hug.

Toto appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed casually in a button-down and slacks. He descended quickly, his tall frame moving gracefully. “Late night, I see,” he remarked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and amusement. His eyes flicked to the mountain of bags they were unloading onto the floor. “Did you leave anything in the stores?”

“Not much,” Charlotte quipped, a grin breaking across her face.

Toto smiled, clearly relieved to see her looking happier. He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “You seem better,” he said softly.

“She’s feeling much better,” her mom confirmed, setting her bags down and stretching her arms. “And we might have single-handedly boosted the local economy tonight.”

Charlotte laughed. “It helped, though. I needed this.”

Toto crouched slightly, looking Charlotte in the eye. “Good. That’s all that matters. You’ll get through this, you know.”

Charlotte nodded, her smile soft but genuine. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Always,” he said warmly before standing and turning to his wife. “And you—thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course,” she replied with a knowing smile. “Now, I’m going to make some tea. Charlotte, why don’t you start figuring out where all these bags are going to fit in your room?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Right. I’ll just call an architect and plan an extension.”

As she gathered her bags and headed upstairs, Toto slipped an arm around his wife’s waist, pulling her close. “You really are amazing, you know that?”

She tilted her head, giving him a teasing smile. “I hope you remind me of that every so often.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Every chance I get.”

From upstairs, they heard Charlotte call out, “Mom, where did you put that bag from Dior?!”

She groaned, laughing. “Coming!”

Toto released her with a smile, watching her head upstairs to join Charlotte.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: I don't why today I write so daughter related, but honestly, imagine having Toto Wolff as a husband or as a dad...

BTW, random, but when I was writing it I could not stop thinking about Fleabag, this scene:

English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

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prettygirl-gabi · 1 day ago

Text

Chapter 7: Homecoming

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: who would have thought going home would have Granny playin match maker..

Welcome to the chapter 7 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The plane ride back to Georgia felt longer than it should have. The weight of the past month pressed down on me as I stared out the window. Between the rumors, the growing connection with Paige, and the pressure of my final project, I needed a break. But more than that, my grandmother needed me.

When I walked into her cozy home, the scent of lavender and fresh cornbread greeted me like a warm hug. She was in her usual spot in the living room, knitting a quilt and wearing her signature smile, though she looked thinner than I remembered.

“Come here, baby,” she said, her voice still strong despite her frailty.

I dropped my bags and hugged her tightly. “Missed you, Granny.”

For the next few days, I tried to clear my mind. I helped around the house, took long walks through the fields behind Granny’s home, and even stayed off my phone. But no matter what I did, my thoughts kept drifting back to Paige.

Paige’s POV

I knew something was wrong the moment I walked into practice and didn’t see Y/N behind her camera. She always arrived early, her tripod already set up and ready to go.

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked KK as we stretched.

“She went home to Georgia for the week,” KK said, shooting me a look. “Coach told me her grandma’s sick, but I think she also needed a break from all the drama.”

That explanation didn’t sit right with me.

After practice, I went straight to Coach Geno’s office. “Can I talk to you?”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “What’s on your mind, Bueckers?”

“It’s about Y/N,” I admitted. “I think I need to check on her. I know my knee’s almost 100%, so maybe I could use this time to—”

He held up a hand, cutting me off. “I was going to suggest the same thing. Take the week. Rest your knee. And while you’re at it, make sure Y/N doesn’t quit on me.”

Two days later, I was on a plane to Georgia. The moment I landed, I reached out to her mom, who sounded delighted to hear from me.

“She’s been so down lately,” her mom said. “Maybe you can cheer her up. Come on over.”

The house was just as Y/N had described—modest, warm, and filled with love. Her mom greeted me with a hug, and her grandmother waved from her spot on the couch.

“She’s out back,” her mom said. “Go on, now.”

I found her sitting on the porch steps, staring out at the open field as the sun dipped below the horizon. She didn’t notice me at first, so I softly cleared my throat.

Her head whipped around, her eyes wide. “Paige? What are you doing here?”

“I heard you needed a break,” I said, sitting down beside her. “Thought I could help.”

Y/N’s POV

For hours, we talked about everything—our favorite childhood memories, the stress of college, and the whirlwind of the past month. Paige opened up about the pressure she felt as a super senior, the expectations that came with being Paige Bueckers.

“I didn’t mean to make things harder for you,” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the stars above.

“You didn’t,” I replied, resting my head on her shoulder. “If anything, you’ve made it easier.”

We stayed like that until the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon.

Later that afternoon, while I was out running errands with my mom, Granny and Paige sat on the back porch swing.

Paige’s POV

Granny handed me a glass of sweet tea, her sharp eyes studying me over the rim of her own glass.

“You like my granddaughter, don’t you?” she asked, her tone as casual as if she were asking about the weather.

I nearly choked on my tea. “I—I do,” I admitted. “But it’s not just about liking her. I respect her. She’s... special.”

“She is,” Granny agreed, her expression softening. “But she’s also stubborn. Gets it from me.”

I chuckled. “I’ve noticed.”

Granny leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly. “If you care about her, Paige, don’t let her run from this. From you. She’s been through a lot, but I see the way she lights up when she talks about you.”

I nodded, her words settling deep in my chest. “I won’t let her run.”

Granny patted my hand. “Good. Now, go on and help me bring in the laundry before Y/N gets back. She’ll fuss if she sees us out here working.”

That evening, as we sat around the dinner table, I felt something shift between us. Y/N’s walls were starting to come down, and for the first time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)

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jamesirius · 1 day ago

Note

This is me appealing for the side-fic of harry’s pov as well as violet knocking sense into harry because i wanna see a harry and violet interaction!!!

This is so sweet of you to say, thank you! I don't know about a full Harry POV but I, like you, really wanted to see Harry/Violet interaction and I was so sad I couldn't include her in the main fic... so this little outtake is for you!

Set in between chapter 8 and chapter 9 of Fruitcake:

Snow crunched under his boots. A group of fifth years nearby were starting a massive snowball fight, complete with makeshift snow shelters made by magic; in the distance, Harry could see the greenhouses lit up with Herbology N.E.W.T. students taking care of their independent projects. The castle behind him hummed with energy.

He scowled down at the ground. A snowball came flying towards him from the general direction of the fifth year fight.

Harry raised his wand to banish it.

As he did, his wand flew out of his grasp. Turning, he watched it zoom through the air and land in his little sister’s open palm.

“Some Auror you are,” said Violet, brushing snow off her jacket. “That’s a second year spell—”

Harry twisted his wrist, activating his Auror holster. His wand jumped directly out of Violet’s hand and straight back to his holster.

“And that’s why I’m the Auror and you’re not,” he told her.

Violet made a face at him. Harry ignored her and returned to his path winding across the snow and over to the greenhouses. Maybe Neville was in—he wasn’t one of the teachers who had to stay at Hogwarts this holiday, but he usually dropped by to check on the plants anyway—

“So you’re not going back to the Burrow?” asked Violet.

Harry stopped and slanted a glare over at his little sister. She smiled at him, deeply unapologetic, and hopped over the remnants of two snowmen to join him in his walk.

“I thought you wanted the family together for New Year’s.”

“Well, I do, but that was before Hermione told me what’s wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Oh, right. You’re just gloomily stomping through the snow because… you hate the Hufflepuff fifth years?”

“Maybe I do,” he muttered.

Violet planted herself in front of him and shoved him to a stop. Harry glared at her, massaging his shoulder.

“Will you stop being such an idiot? Just go talk to her.”

“I’m not taking advice from you, you spent Christmas in the Swiss Alps with your boyfriend,” he shot at her. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Please, we’re talking about you and Ginny,” said Violet with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I don’t need to be in the country 24/7 to know you’ve had a big fat crush on her for years—”

“Shut up—”

“And that you’re being an idiot,” she continued, talking louder to speak over him, “if you think she doesn’t want you, too.”

Harry muttered something under his breath.

“What?” asked Violet.

“I said she doesn’t.”

Violet looked singularly unimpressed. Harry made to shoulder past her, knocking her slightly sideways, until she righted herself and scrambled back to his side on the snowy pathway.

“Why do you think she doesn’t?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbled.

“Harry. Why do you think—”

“Because I kissed her and she ran away!” Harry snapped. “And then she told me to spend the rest of Christmas holidays here, instead of with her. It’s not exactly a mixed message, Vi. It’s pretty blatant.”

“Okay,” said Violet slowly, pulling up in front of him and forcing him to stop again. “Go back. When you kissed her, you didn’t, like, force it on her, did you?”

“What? No!” Harry recoiled as if she had struck him. “I mean, I—I kissed her first. But she kissed me back. It wasn’t like—” His voice trailed off rather pathetically; had it been like that? She’d been pretty enthusiastic, but he’d been drunk and so had she. And there was no denying he’d pulled her into it when she’d been trying to walk away.

“Then why did she run away?” asked Violet, brushing her dark hair out of her face as a wind picked up.

Harry lowered his head into the collar of his jacket, so that she wouldn’t see the expression on his face as he admitted: “Cho interrupted us.”

Violet stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“What?” he asked when he had enough of the silence.

“Harry, I swear to fucking Merlin, you are a lost cause,” she said with a sigh. “Why would you let your ex-girlfriend interrupt you in the middle of a kiss?”

“I didn’t plan on it!” he protested. “She just came up to us and then Ginny fucking bolted before I had a chance to say anything—”

“So you had zero chance to tell her, ‘hey, Ginny, I don’t have feelings for Cho at all and I only like you?’”

Harry glowered at her, but said nothing.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Violet grimly. “Harry, she doesn’t know. You can’t sit here feeling upset that she doesn’t return your feelings when you’ve never made it fucking clear. In fact, knowing you, I’d guess you’ve made it the opposite of clear.”

“Shut up,” Harry grumbled. “What does that even mean? I literally kissed her—”

“What happened before you kissed her?”

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Violet raised both eyebrows.

“I’m assuming you didn’t grab her out of nowhere. Something happened, right? What made you kiss her?”

Harry stared at his sister for a moment, feeling an old and distressing stirring of guilt inside his stomach, then walked past her, his boots crunching through the snow.

“Harry,” Violet called after him, annoyed.

He stopped with his back to her, heaving a sigh.

“She said—she said that she had been in love with me for years, till she was seventeen—and that she didn’t want to do it again and to stop acting like I wanted her.”

The words came out of him in a rush, half-muttered into the drifting snow. He could hear Violet’s footsteps behind him until she came up next to him again; he didn’t turn to look at her and she kindly didn’t place herself in front of him again.

“So… you kissed her because you wanted her to like you again?”

“What?” Harry frowned, his head swiveling around to stare at her in confusion. “No. That’s not—what?”

“Well, that’s what you just told me, isn’t it?” Violet said. “She said she didn’t want to be in love with you, so you kissed her.”

“You don’t get it,” he muttered.

“What don’t I get?”

“I know she’s in love with me,” Harry burst out. “Her Patronus is—it’s me. My wolf form.”

“Oh, I see,” said Violet, mock-thoughtfully. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “You kissed her because you wanted to prove her wrong.”

“What? No.”

“Yes,” she countered. “She said she wasn’t still in love with you and didn’t want to be, but because you know better, you kissed her to prove that she is still in love with you—”

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. “For Merlin’s sake, Vi, you’re making me sound awful—”

“Well, you’ve kind of been awful!” Violet said, loudly enough that he fell quiet in surprise. “Why have you been pretending to date her? Why would you let her think you’re still interested in Cho Chang? Do you have any idea how confusing you sound? I can’t imagine living it!”

“But—I—” Harry stopped, staring at her in dismay. “I didn’t—it wasn’t my plan to pretend to date, I don’t—”

“Oh, come off it, Harry,” she said with a deep sigh. “It wasn’t your idea but you went along with it, and at any point, did it occur to you to tell her, ‘I actually really like you and I want to date you for real’ or did you think pretending to be her boyfriend would be enough?”

“Well, I—I didn’t know if she liked me back,” he spluttered.

“You just said you did,” Violet pointed out. “You said her Patronus was you, that’s a pretty clear sign.”

Harry said nothing, just swallowed hard.

“Or is that not enough suddenly?” asked Violet.

He exhaled through his teeth. “You don’t—it’s complicated.”

“How is it complicated?” Violet demanded. “You’ve been in love with her for years, and you have magical proof that she—”

“One year,” Harry muttered defensively.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Two years.”

“One and a half.”

“Frankly, I think you’ve been in love with her since you were eighteen.”

“What?”

“Or do you not remember when you came back to Hogwarts to watch us win the Quidditch Cup that year?” Violet crossed her arms, eyebrows raised in a perfect copy of their mum’s expression when she was about to provide the argument-winning evidence of who in their household had committed the latest prank offense in the face of everyone’s denials. “I was on the team that year, and yet when you, Mum, and Dad came down to the field after we won, you made a beeline for Ginny, not me, your sister—”

“I don’t remember that.”

“Right.” Violet looked supremely doubtful. Harry made a face at her. “Well. Either way, it’s been a while. Honestly, at this point, if you’re stupid enough to just let her go, then you deserve to be miserable for the rest of your life.”

Harry glared at her a moment longer, then his shoulders dropped in a deep sigh.

“I don’t want to let her go,” he mumbled, mostly to the snow.

“Then don’t,” said Violet matter-of-factly. “You’re a Gryffindor. Go tell her the truth. For once.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, grimacing.

“What if she doesn’t—”

“Then she doesn’t.” Violet’s voice softened. “But I think she will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “You’ve known her almost twenty years, and you’ve been an idiot the whole time, and she hasn’t kicked you to the curb yet, has she?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for that.”

“What are sisters for?”

#hp fanfic #hinny #hinny fanfic #harry x ginny #fruitcake #ask #anonymous

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widowromanova · 14 hours ago

Text

Sniper (part 2) - Natasha x Female Reader

warnings: mentions of violence, SMUT!!!

word count: 4891

a/n: here's the asked for part 2 (with (part of) their backstory) ;)

You shouldn’t have hesitated, you couldn’t afford to hesitate. God! How could you be so reckless! You had spent so long training just to avoid this. And yet, when you saw her tonight, the same fire in her eyes that once drew you in, every carefully constructed wall you’d built came crashing down.

It had been years since the two of you were more than just co-workers. Back then, it hadn’t just been reckless - it had been dangerous and intoxicating. Natasha had drawn you into her orbit effortlessly, she had a way of making you feel like the only person in the room, the only one who mattered, even when you both knew that wasn’t true.

The secrecy wasn’t just about breaking SHIELD’s rules; it was about protection. You had both made enemies, people who wouldn’t hesitate to use your connection against you. Hiding it wasn’t just to keep your careers intact - it was to keep each other safe. But the risk had only made it more intense.

It all started at that party, "God, what a cliché," you thought. SHIELD’s annual gala was never your scene, but Fury had insisted on your attendance, throwing out some half-hearted excuse about team morale. You had arrived late, your shirt buttoned-up wrong, trying to disappear into the background.

And then you saw her.

Natasha was standing at the edge of the room, her back to the wall, a glass of champagne in hand, her body dripping in a silk black dress. She looked untouchable, like she always did. But her eyes - those sharp, calculating eyes - were scanning the crowd with purpose. She wasn’t there for the small talk or the niceties. She never was. And yet, when her gaze found yours, something shifted. For a moment, the room and its noise blurred, the crowd nothing more than a collection of moving shadows. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, and you knew she’d seen right through your plan to fade into obscurity.

She approached you first. Of course she did. Natasha never waited for anyone to come to her.

“You look miserable,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Let me guess, Fury dragged you here too?”

You’d laughed, caught off guard by the lightness of her tone. “Something like that. And you? I thought you thrived in situations like this.”

Her smile widened, but there was a glint of something deeper in her eyes. “I do, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy them.”

“Yeah, not exactly my idea of a good time,” you admitted, looking around the room.

She tilted her head, studying you with that sharp, assessing gaze. Her eyes flicked downward, and a small smirk tugged at her lips.

"Not your idea of a good time," she said, her tone laced with amusement. "Or maybe you’re just bad at dressing for it."

You frowned, confused, until she reached forward and tugged lightly at the collar of your shirt. It wasn’t until she stepped closer, the faint scent of her perfume brushing past you, that you realized what she was doing.

“Your buttons,” she murmured, her voice low, almost playful. Her fingers worked deftly, undoing the mismatched ones near your collar. “You can’t walk around looking like this- it’ll ruin the reputation Fury worked so hard to build for you.”

She delivered the last part with a dripping sarcasm that made you huff a quiet laugh despite yourself. “Oh, is that what Fury’s worried about?” you shot back, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smirk.

Her lips curved into a knowing grin as she finished fixing your shirt. “Absolutely. You’re the poster child for professionalism,” she said, her tone still laced with mockery.

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling warmth creep up the back of your neck. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or the proximity of her hands, brushing just lightly enough against your chest to make you uncomfortably aware of how close she was.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, her tone casual, but when she looked up, there was that spark in her eyes again, the one that made it hard to breathe. “There. Perfect.”

She patted your chest lightly, the gesture half-teasing, half-sincere, before stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Much better. Now you look like someone worth talking to.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small grin tugging at your lips. “I didn’t realize I was under inspection.”

“Always,” she quipped, looking you up and down in a satisfactory manner before grabbing her glass of champagne again. “You should know that by now.”

And just like that, she had you. In the span of a minute, Natasha Romanoff had taken a mundane moment and turned it into something you couldn’t stop thinking about. Looking back, you wondered if that had been her plan all along.

She tilted her head, studying you for a moment that felt longer than it should have. Then, with a mischievous spark, she handed you a drink. “Come on. Let’s make it more interesting.”

That was how it began - not with a grand declaration or a dramatic moment, but with Natasha pulling you out of the gala and onto the rooftop, away from the crowd. The conversation had been easy, surprisingly so. You had laughed, teased, talked about things you probably shouldn’t have, and for the first time, you saw Natasha not as the infamous Black Widow but as someone real.

The rooftop was quiet, the distant hum of the city below filling the silence. You leaned against the ledge, while Natasha stood a few feet away, her posture relaxed but somehow still charged with an energy that made her impossible to ignore.

For a while, neither of you said anything. It wasn’t the uncomfortable silence of strangers or colleagues forced into proximity, but something more natural. You could hear the faint clink of her glass as she swirled the last of her champagne, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“You know,” she finally said, her voice softer now, almost thoughtful, “this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe all night.”

You turned your head to look at her, the moonlight catching the sharp angles of her face. “Yeah? Doesn’t seem like anything gets to you.”

She smirked at that, a small, almost wistful expression. “Maybe I’m just good at hiding it.”

Something about the way she said it made your chest tighten. There was a vulnerability in her voice, and you wondered how many people ever got to hear it.

She set her empty glass down on the ledge, turning to face you fully. Her green eyes held yours, unguarded in a way that felt disarming.

“Why do you do that?” she asked suddenly, her tone shifting.

“Do what?”

“Act like you’re not interesting,” she said, taking a step closer. “Like you’re just… background noise in a room full of people.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but she was already moving, closing the distance between you with a deliberate slowness. Her hand brushed your arm, light and tentative at first, then bolder as her fingers trailed down to your wrist.

“You’re not,” she murmured, her voice low and steady.

You should’ve stepped back, put some distance between you. Instead, you found yourself rooted to the spot, caught in her pull. Natasha’s free hand reached up, her fingers brushing the side of your face, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.

For a moment, everything else faded - the gala, the rules, the risks. All that mattered was the way she was looking at you.

“Tell me to stop,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

Your heart pounded, each beat louder than the last as her words echoed in your mind. You should’ve said something - anything - but the way her eyes searched yours stole the breath from your lungs.

Natasha tilted her head, closing the gap the rest of the way, her lips brushing yours with a softness that sent a shiver through you. The kiss wasn’t rushed or demanding, but deliberate, as if she was waiting for you to pull away, to stop her. When you didn’t, her hand slid from your wrist up to your neck, her touch both steady and grounding.

Your hands found her waist, hesitating for a moment before you pulled her closer, the tension melting away. And now, all of a sudden, the cool night air seemed warmer.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, her breath mingled with yours in the space between. She didn’t speak right away, her eyes flickering over your face as if she was committing every detail to memory.

“This changes things,” she said softly, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, “it does.”

From then on, you met in secret. The first time you met was two days after the gala, when you received a message from an anonymous number with a single address and the words “8 PM.” You debated whether or not to go, well aware that anything involving Natasha would likely lead to trouble. But something about the thrill of her pulled you in.

At 8 o’clock, you arrived at the address, a small, unassuming apartment building on the outskirts of the city. You climbed the stairs and knocked on the door, pulse racing with anticipation and uncertainty. The door opened revealing Natasha, dressed casually in a black tank top and jeans, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. At the sight of you, a slow smile curled at the corners of her lips.

"You didn't give me much choice," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the way your heart rate spiked at the sound of her voice.

She smiled softly, stepping aside to let you in. The apartment was cozy, dimly lit, and almost surprisingly normal-looking.

"Drink?" she asked, gesturing toward a bottle of scotch sitting on the kitchen counter. You nodded, accepting the glass she handed you. The silence between you was heavy. You watched her as she took a sip of her drink, studying you for a moment before finally speaking.

"I wasn't sure if you'd show up," she admitted, setting her glass down on the countertop and leaning on her arm against it. You shrugged, "Curiosity got the best of me, I suppose."

She raised an eyebrow, her smile growing into an almost predatory smirk. "Curiosity, huh?" You didn't respond, choosing instead to take a long drink. The scotch burned your throat, but you drank until you felt the heat in your cheeks cool.

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes roaming over you in that assessing way she had. She took a step closer, her proximity making it harder to think. "You're tense," she observed, her voice low and smooth. "Relax. I don't bite," she ran a hand up and down your arm. You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. "I'd bet money you do," you quipped back.

Her smile widened. "Maybe I do," she murmured. "But not tonight." She held your gaze, her expression unreadable. For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat drumming in your ears. Then, she lifted her hand to your face, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of your jaw.

"You're making this difficult," she murmured, her touch leaving a trail of heat. "I didn't expect you to be so..."

"So what?"

She paused, her eyes searching yours. “So… different,” she said finally, her voice soft but firm, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit it. “I’ve been trying to keep things simple, but you…”

Her words trailed off as her hand rested against your chest, her thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt. The faintest smile tugged at her lips, “You make it quite hard.”

The space between you seemed to shrink. You wanted to ask her what she meant, to press her for clarity, but you already knew the answer. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. "Simple isn't really your style, is it?" you managed to say, your voice betraying the emotions churning inside.

Her wry smile deepened, a glint of mischief sparking in her eyes as her fingers lingered at your jaw, her thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Simple is boring,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

You tried to reply, to find some clever retort that would keep you grounded. All you could focus on was the way she looked at you, like she was daring you to close the last sliver of space between you.

“Natasha…” you started, but her name came out more like a sigh than a warning.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. “What?” she asked, her tone teasing but soft. “I thought you liked complicated.” Before you could answer, her hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

And then, without hesitation, she kissed you.

It wasn’t tentative or unsure; it was deliberate, purposeful, like she wasn’t going to give you a chance to second-guess her. Again, her lips were warm, soft, but there was an urgency beneath it.

You responded instinctively, your hands finding her waist as you pulled her against you, deepening the kiss.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, and she let out a soft, almost amused breath. “See?” she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of triumph. “Complicated isn’t so bad.”

Her hand was still on the back of your neck, her fingers tracing idle patterns that sent shivers down your spine. "No," you breathed, your voice a low rumble against her skin, "it's not." You reached for her, pulling her head to the side to kiss her neck. She let out a soft, almost surprised gasp as your lips found her skin. Her fingers tightened in your hair, her body instinctively arching into you. You traced a line of kisses down her throat, tasting the salt and sweetness of her skin. Each press of your lips seemed to ignite a fire in her, a barely restrained need that mirrored your own. Her hand roamed down your back, nails scraping light and dangerous, sending another shiver through you. "You're not playing fair," she murmured in your ear, her voice ragged and breathless.

You smirked against her skin, pulling her closer, your hands sliding under the hem of her shirt. "Who said I was playing fair?" You pushed her backwards until she was against the wall, pinning her there with the weight of your body. Her eyes darkened, a mixture of desire and challenge in them. You reached up, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. She let out a small gasp, her lips parting in surprise, her chest rising and falling with each laboured breath. She could have easily freed herself, but instead, she leaned into you, her body pressed flush against yours.

You tightened your grip on her wrists, holding her captive as you dispersed kiss after kiss, tracing the veins on her neck. She arched into you, her mouth brushing the shell of your ear, a low whisper of “What do you think you're doing?” You didn't respond. Your lips found her jaw, trailing a path of fire down her neck. Her body responded to your touch, her breaths uneven, her skin flushed. A quiet moan escaped her as you kissed along her collarbone, and you felt the tension in her shoulders start to loosen. But before you could go further, Natasha’s hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as she pulled your head back sharply, bringing your eyes to meet hers.

“I didn’t say you could keep going,” she said, her voice breathless, a playful edge beneath the words.

You could see the challenge in her eyes, the same one that had always drawn you in - fearless, confident.

“Maybe I don’t need permission,” you murmured, your lips curling into a teasing smile.

She raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge in the air between you, before her fingers slid from your hair, holding your face in her hands. “I like it when you’re bold,” she said softly, her voice now a mix of approval. Her thumb brushed over your lower lip, a gesture so intimate it made your heart skip a beat. “But," she continued, her voice a low, gravelly murmur, "don't get ahead of yourself."

"And why not?" you challenged.

Natasha smirked, the challenge clear in her eyes. "Because I said so," she replied firmly, her fingers tightening around your jaw.

She took a step forward, closing the small distance between you. Her body was now pressed against yours, her gaze intense and unwavering. "And if there's one thing you should know about me," she continued, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "I always get what I want."

In one swift motion, she turned, slamming you against the wall, her body pinning you there as her mouth found yours. The kiss was fiery, possessive, her tongue demanding entry as her hands gripped at your shirt, pulling you closer. Her leg pressed between yours, her knee rubbing slightly against the growing wet spot there. You could feel her smirk against your lips, her teeth nipping at your tongue. Her hands were under your shirt now, nails scraping down your stomach.

She pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Her thumb traced over your lips, swollen and tender from her, her touch feather-light yet utterly possessive.

"Still think you're in charge here?" she murmured, her voice a low husk. Her grip on your hips tightened, her knee pressing into you further, eliciting a low moan from you. She looked you up and down, "You're wearing too much."

Without waiting for a response, she started tugging at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift move. Her gaze raked over your exposed skin, a look of hunger in her eyes. You watched her, goose bumps pebbling across your skin. She took her own shirt off now, her skin gleaming under the light, a canvas of muscle and scars, a stark contrast to the delicate curve of her hip. She moved closer, pressing herself against you, her bare skin against yours. Her hands roamed over your body, mapping every contour, every muscle. She traced a line down your chest, nails scratching lightly against your skin. Her mouth found your neck, her lips grazing over the sensitive flesh there, her breath hot and heavy against your skin. You began to fiddle with the clasp of her bra, desperately trying to undress her.

She pulled away slightly, her hands catching yours, pinning them against the wall above your head. Her expression was stern, almost predatory, a silent command to stay still. "Patience," she murmured, her breath tickling your ear. She let go of your hands to reach behind her back, unclasping the garment herself. You watched as she seductively took it off to drop it at your feet then pulled the waistband of her underwear down as well, dropping them beside her bra. Her hands skimmed over your hips, her thumbs hooking into the waistband. She looked up at you, a silent question in her eyes, seeking permission. You could only nod, words failing you. Your brain was a hazy mess of need and the sharp awareness of every inch of your body where she touched you.

You felt the material slither down your legs, heard the whisper of it falling to the floor. You were exposed now, vulnerable in a way you hadn't been before. But there was no shame in your nudity under Natasha's gaze, only a growing sense of belonging. She harshly grabbed you by the face again, your lips clashing as she haphazardly walked you over to the sofa where she pushed you to sit down.

You landed on the couch with a thud, your breath leaving you in a rush. Before you could even catch your bearings, Natasha was on you, straddling your lap, her body pressed flush against yours. Her mouth found yours again, her kiss rough and demanding. Her weight was pinning you to the cushions, the feeling of her skin against yours sending sparks through you. Your hands found their way to her hips, gripping tightly.

You moved your leg to position itself between hers, watching her as she tensed slightly at the movement, a small gasp escaping her lips. She broke the kiss to bury her face in the crook of your neck, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there. You could feel her shiver, her body involuntarily rocking against your leg.

"Eager," she murmured against your neck, her voice a ragged whisper, "aren't you?" Her tongue traced a path down your throat, pleasure searing through you. She ground against your thigh, seeking friction, her breath coming in uneven gasps. Your hands tightened on her hips, guiding her movements despite the loss of control. She whined in your ear, as you managed to gasp out a few words, your voice thick with desire. "I thought you were the one in charge," you panted, your fingers running up her sides to caress the soft skin of her back.

She pulled back slightly to look at you, her eyes dark with desire. "And I am," she replied, her words punctuated by a roll of her hips against your thigh. "But," she continued, her voice dropping as she let out another moan, "I like it when you get... unruly."

Your hands roamed over her body in response, one staying on her hip while the other moved higher, tracing the curve of her breast. She arched into your touch, a soft moan escaping her. The sight was almost too much to bear, the way she responded to you like a drug. She leaned in closer, her mouth finding yours again, her tongue insistent, demanding entry. She moved against you, each roll of her hips against your leg driving you both closer to the edge. You were lost in her.

Your fingers slowly moved down her stomach, stopping just above her pelvis. Her breath hitched at the feel of your fingers so close to where she wanted them most. Her hips instinctively thrust towards your hand, a silent plea for more. A low moan escaped her throat, her eyes dark and burning into yours. "Stop... teasing," she gasped, the words barely more than a ragged whisper.

You smirked at her, watching her domination over you waver, your hand staying exactly where you placed it. Her body was tense against you, a barely contained coil of energy waiting to snap. The look in her eyes was a mix of frustration and desire as she shifted her weight, her knees digging into the couch on either side of you. "I said stop..." she repeated, her voice a low growl. But her body betrayed her words, her hips still moving on their own accord, seeking out your touch. Your fingers trailed lightly over her skin, drawing lazy circles that drove her wild, but never quite giving her what she wanted.

Her eyes darkened, a growl-like sound rumbling in her throat. She grabbed your face firmly, her grip just on the edge of being painful. "You're playing a dangerous game here," she muttered, her body pressed flush against yours. Her fingers tangled in your hair, forcing your head back, leaving your neck exposed to her. Her mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth sinking in just enough to make you gasp. "You're making it difficult to stay in control," she breathed against your skin, her breath hot and ragged.

"Good," you simply say.

Your words make her pause, her mouth still against your neck. You can feel her smirk, a mix of irritation and amusement as she laughs, "You do realise," she purred, her voice low, "that I could have you begging on your knees right now if I wanted?"

"Yeah, but..." your hand moves over her clit to trace circles, "you really don't want me to stop this, do you?" A shudder runs through her body, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again to lock with yours. Her breath catches, a stifled gasp escaping her. She tries to hold on to her composure. "Not... fair," she manages to say, her voice shakier than before. You smirk, your fingers continuing to move down to enter her, stretching her out perfectly. She lets out a low growl, "God.." Her hips snap against your hand, desperate for more. "Just... like that," she gasps, her body betraying her words. Her hands grip your shoulders, nails digging in, leaving little moon crescents in your skin. It is beyond clear she has lost most of her composure.

Her body tenses again, her thighs trembling slightly around your hand. Her eyes are dark, clouded over with desire, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. "Don't stop," she whispers, the words barely a breath.

"I wasn't planning to," you tease.

"Shut up," she mutters, but there's no real venom in her words, just a hint of desperation that betrays how badly she wants you. Her hands slide down from your shoulders to your biceps, holding onto you like a lifeline. "Who knew," she grunts, her voice catching.

"Knew what?"

"That you could..." her sentence cut off with a moan, "reduce me to this." She manages to gasp out the words between ragged breaths, her body arching into your touch. You can feel how close she is, her body strung tight like a bowstring, ready to snap. "Just... keep going.." she practically pleads.

You keep going, your fingers dancing over exactly the right spot, driving her higher and higher until-

Her head falls back, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she comes undone. Her body shivers against you, her nails digging into your arms. Her limbs tremble, her head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder as she tries to catch her breath. "You..." she breathes.

"I, what?" you retort, a wide grin playing on your face. She lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours, still swimming in a heady mix. "Why is that look so damn attractive on you?" she mutters, still riding her high while her hands still grip your arms tightly.

You laugh, "What am I, Nat?"

"Annoying," she mutters, her eyes narrowing. "Possibly aggravating," she continues, her breathing slowing down slightly. But despite her words, her hands don't let go of you, her body still pressed tightly against yours.

"Now why would you say that?" you question, feigning hurt.

"Oh, let me count," she muses, her voice regaining some of its usual sardonic edge. "Your smugness when you get the upper hand, your infuriatingly attractive smile-", you watch her with admiration, a smile forming on your face, "-the fact that you somehow always manage to push all my buttons. Not to mention, you're doing a damn good job of driving me crazy right now." Her words are an equal measure of wanting to strangle you and wanting to kiss you senseless.

As if to prove her point, she pushes against you further, her body moulding to yours. She leans in, her mouth at your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "You have any idea what you do to me, huh?" she whispers, the words a murmur in your ear. "And right now, I don't know if I want to kill you or kiss you."

You pretend to pay attention, your mouth slowly finding her neck again, your tongue tracing a path over her skin. She lets out a soft sigh, a shudder running through her at your touch. Her fingers rake through your hair, a possessive gesture as she holds you against her. She's trying to regain a semblance of control, to take back the upper hand.

But despite her best efforts, her body betrays her. She arches into you, a moan escaping her as your mouth finds that sensitive spot below her ear, "Fuck you, L/N..."

"I was hoping you would," you quip. The rest of the night became a blur, the walls of your memory stained with the hazy scent of sex that lingered throughout her apartment as you found... comfort... in each other for the next day.

But for all the passion, there had been cracks in the foundation of which neither of you could admit to at the time. Natasha had always been an enigma, parts of her locked away so tightly even you couldn’t reach them. And you - you had started to wonder if loving her was just another risk you hadn't been strong enough to take.

Tonight, you had faltered.

Your grip on the rifle tightened, and you exhaled, watching your breath curl into the night air. Natasha was always in control, and somehow, despite everything, you had let her slip through your fingers again.

The rooftop was quiet now, but your thoughts were anything but. Because she wasn’t just an assignment. She never had been. And the next time you saw her, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to pull the trigger - or if she’d already have you in her sights first.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed, there will be a part 3 (i have more to add to their backstory, i just did not want to put it all in one part ;)) the smut will continue!

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #wlw #smut #lgbt #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow smut #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel #mcu

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confusionism · 1 day ago

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“He also wouldn’t’ve called up my number if they knew anyone else who was desperate for pennies.” Aiden knows what it’s like to hold a hunger so deep you’ll take anything thrown at you. Luck may not have been on his side with framing where he comes from, but he’s got to give credit where it’s due, to the parts of life that remain inconceivable through time.

At his core, he’s just the kid from the shithole part of town, thinking he can fix everything with the scraps in his toolbox. He can walk into as many multi-million pound facilities as possible, can be faced with the newest and greatest of advanced tech, and he’ll still hear that metal clinking in the back of his head.

Even now.

Or especially now. They’re thinking on the past, and now he’s curious about aspirations. “You ever think about, like— I don’t know. Dream projects?” He’s not sure if there’s better terminology for this, but he thinks she can pick up on what he means. “A thing you always wanted to pose for or do, but never got the chance.” After another bite, he posits, “You’re always working with these big brains telling you what to do. Taking orders. ‘s funny—” not entirely in the ‘hahah’ way, “—‘cause you’d be great calling the shots too.”

Because this is something that he’s coming to realize about them, what marks the difference in their respective postures: Anna’s a dreamer, ready to take flight. Chasing after ‘the next big thing’ while being constrained by what others say. Literally. In every sense of the concept. All while Aiden remains grounded in a reality reliant on anticipating every move.

Still. Despite the weight of their conversation, he manages a laugh. Light and airy, and filled with those butterflies that Anna seems to adept at helping break out of their cocoons.

“Well… I never really thought much about being a ‘worldwide fascination,’ but… I could be cool with that.” He supposes it comes with the territory, in a way, being high-profile despite being off to the side of things. Spotlights did have a way of highlighting surroundings. Yet he looks up from their food and catches her gaze, bridging an unspoken gap between them when he admits, quietly, “Really only matters to me if you see me that way.”

His way of confirming what’s there, as if they haven’t done just that over the past month, and as if he doesn’t add, “You can stay with me when you’re around.” There’s no trace of doubt in his mind or in his words. In fact, right now, he’s breaking the hearts of all those who’d bet in favor of ‘robot.’ “Could be nice to fill the place with stuff that isn’t gift baskets. And I’ll show you the spot in Surrey next time.” A cottage, far simpler in design than the mid-city flat, and with enough space for a patio they can drink their cocoa on. “It’s better when you need to catch a breath.”

When Aiden talks, Anna takes great care to listen. Pulling out those private, self-actualized thoughts of his is an exercise in 'less is more.' She doesn't pry, doesn't demand (if she didn't count her last ultimatum, just a month ago). Everything she learns is a treasured secret. A piece of a picture of him that she puts together. Unsurprising, but interesting nonetheless when she finds out how he gets his start. Anna chuckles, wondering if Aiden realized that his luck is second only to his guts. "But he wouldn't have called up your number if you didn't have anything smart to say." Luck gets you in the door, tenacity keeps you behind it. That's what Anna believes, anyways.

"People would dress me up like I was twenty-two, when I was just twelve. Now, I'm thirty, and they still want me to look twenty-two. Life's fucking funny." It's her way of commiseration. She may not have worked like Aiden did, with calloused hands and knotted shoulders. But she gave up parts of her youth, and only now does she feel close enough to recoup it. She hums a quiet thank you, but it's heartfelt and her cheeks color pink at the weight of his compliments. Even now, she's not used to it, being seen as more than the sum of her parts.

The weighted topic takes a turn, and Anna gasps. "Oh my God, I saw that!" On her not-so-casual, social media deep dive on Aiden. Back when he was a quasi-workplace crush, and teasing a smile out of him was an accomplishment. Still is, come to think of it. "I think you're managing just fine." It's congratulatory on her part - Aiden's all smiles on this trip, even when Troy is giving him the sexy stink eye or the French were being rude. "But alright, sure. Let's say it's the running bets and not the worldwide fascination in Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome." Teasing is how she endears, and Anna's aware she can border the line of obnoxious behavior.

"Hardly. It would be nice, having somewhere to go in between jobs..." Undoubtedly, Anna enjoyed the travel. When she wasn't working and her parents were busy, Anna would busy herself with side trips and jaunts. But she's seen the world now, and all Anna wants is a familiar bed and someone to come home to. "You know, I don't even have an actual apartment? My stuff's in storage facilities and friends' places. My forwarding address is either my parents', my agent's office, or PO box in London." A long way of saying --

"I wouldn't mind breaking my flow for something new." Something new, with Aiden.

#af #rosesonbreeze #rosesonbreeze004

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manic-misfit · 3 months ago

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What brought you back to the trenches (tumblr) bro?

I wanted a safe place to leave a door open, I owed someone some open vulnerability, to be in sight and reach if ever they need me again.

#personal #anon #answered #just letting myself express some things openly after shutting down so long #not hiding the ugly and shameful things #I won’t do my feelings injustice by pretending not to care #they can know all of it and if they are comforted by knowing I share in their hurt I don’t mind #I’m not ashamed of my heart not when it comes to them #I’ll be a fool my whole life to make sure she turns out okay.#she could hate me and mock me and I’ll stay here ready to welcome her home if she needs #I can’t help that and I’m tired of trying to understand it #I resolved to open this door and stay put and commit to it #it doesn’t matter if she walks through it it matters it’s there and I don’t break at least one promise #a soul split in two #my twin flame.

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starkeysbunny · 2 months ago

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tears [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.

warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe

rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.

“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.

“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“

his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.

“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”

his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.

he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.

“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.

“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”

she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.

“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.

“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.

she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”

he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.

she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.

he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.

she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”

he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.

she shakes her head. “just you.”

he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.

he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”

he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.

nothing came before his girl.

#rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #protective rafe #outerbanks rafe #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine

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flippedorbit · 10 months ago

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at this point i would rather be dead because of that dog than injured

#vent #i guess. i don’t fucking know at this point. i’m just super fucking upset that i could be using a cane for mobility right now since i have #literally been fucking struggling to just get out of bed standing and then fucking hobbling out of my room with no proper support at all.#the pain fucking hurts so bad when i just dangle my legs over the side if my bed in preparation to stand up and my mom isn’t taking it even #slightly seriously. I. CAN’T. FUCKING. WALK. COMFORTABLY. OR EVEN FUCKING STAND COMFORTABLY WITHOUT PAIN SHOOTING THROUGH MY LEG.#I CAN’T DO THE BASIC TASKS I COULD DO BEFORE I WAS FUCKING ATTACKED BY MY NEIGHBOR’S DOG. WHERE’D ALL THE CONCERN FROM YESTERDAY GO HUH MOM #WHY DOES IT SUDDENLY NOT FUCKING MATTER THAT I CAN BARELY FUCKING WALK OUT MY ROOM WITHOUT CRYING BECAUSE IT HURTS SO BADLY.#DOES IT MEAN NOTHING THAT I’D RATHER BE DEAD THAN INJURED SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO GO THE SHORT DRIVE INTO TOWN TO #GO BUY LIKE A SEVEN DOLLAR CANE FROM CVS JUST TO MAKE MY LIFE A LITTLE EASIER FOR NOW? IS IT SO FUCKING DIFFICULT MOM?#and she wonders why i never fucking tell her how i’m feeling on a regular basis. whether it be emotionally or physically. what i feel at an #given time clearly doesn’t actually fucking matter. so maybe i should have just died instead. i’d feel a whole lot better thats for sure.

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producedbysohyun · 14 days ago

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A Not So Secret Secret

Kang Dae-ho x pregnant! Reader

Summary: You and Dae-ho join the game to settle your debts, unaware at first that the other is also playing. However, there’s something Dae-ho is also unaware about.

Warnings: Reader is replacing number 222 but has no correlation with 333, Reader is pregnant, mentions of killing and stuff like that. might be slightly inaccurate I’ve only watched the show once. Not proofread.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: I’ve had this idea for awhile but wasn’t sure if anyone would read it so I’m just gonna put it out there!

Pt.2 masterlist

You had just finished the first round in the squid games ,red light green light, and you were terrified as you sat in your bed. Why were people being shot? How are you gonna get out? What is happening? A thousand thoughts raced through your mind at once until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turn around and your met with the face of a worried old woman. It was Geum-Ja, the sweet woman you met during the first game.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

You nod, not exactly in the mood for talking.

Her eyes flickered down to your stomach before looking at you again. She smiled “if you need anything please let me know..”

You nod again, trying to hint at her you wanna be alone before you hear a man yelling, saying something about a vote.

The guards reply a bit after saying that there would be a vote after each game, and a vote soon commences.

“389…please cast your vote….. 388.. please cast your vote” The voice of the guard said.

You were so deep in thought that you didn’t even notice who was currently walking down the aisle to place there vote until the buzzer went off.

“Another person voted to stay…” you thought in your mind… Wait what??

You couldn’t see that well from where you were standing but you caught a glimpse of his face.

It was Dae-ho.

“No… there’s no way… why would he vote to stay.. it can’t be h-“ Your thoughts were soon cut off by the guards voice again.

“222.. please cast your vote”

Jeez how long were you thinking for… whatever it doesn’t matter… you walk down the aisle shyly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you as you press the red button with the X on it. You don’t dare to look behind you, knowing who’s face you’d immediately see.

The votes for O only kept going up and by the end of the vote, O had won.

You feel the anxiety really getting to you and retreat to your bed, trying to run away from your worries. When you get there you feel a hand grab your wrist.

“Y/n…” Dae-ho says, a slight bit of panic in his voice.

You don’t want to turn around but you force yourself to, looking up at him.

“What are you doing here???” He asks in a not so soft tone .

“I could ask you the same thing…” you reply with an attitude, still upset about him voting O.

“I came to settle our debt-“ He tries to explain.

You cut him off. “And you didn’t think of telling me??”

He sighs trying to reason with you. “Listen.. y/n… they said not to tell anyone… I couldn’t risk losing the opportunity at the time… And you can’t get upset at me when you’re literally here as well…”

You rub your face in frustration. “I’m not upset at you for being here I’m upset you didn’t tell me and even more upset you chose to stay!”

“I didn’t know you were here.. if I had known that I would’ve voted X in a heart beat… We need the money baby….” He reply’s, his tone softening.

“This money is not worth dying for…” you say as you start to walk away.

“Y/n stop….” He grabs your arm softly.

“What….” You reply.

“We aren’t done talking…” he says, pulling you back towards him.

You sigh. “What else is there to talk about”

“Why are you here..” He asks. He thinks he knows the answer but he just wants to hear it from you.

“For the same reason you are…” You half lie. Yes you are here to try and settle your debt but also to get a little extra money for the baby.

He sighs, not knowing what to say.

You just turn around and start walking away before he grabs you once again but this time pulling you into his arms.

You’re surprised but you hug him back, not realizing how much you needed it.

While hugging you, Dae-ho couldn’t help but realize that it felt different, the way your body’s pressed together wasn’t quite as comfortable as your stomach was blocking him from getting to close.

He pulled away looking down at you.

“Y/n..?”

You looked away, realizing he probably noticed.

Five months before you joined the squid game you found out you were pregnant. You hid it from Dae-ho, wearing sweaters when your bump started to get a little noticeable and just saying you were cold despite it being summer, he didn’t think much of it. It was quite easy to hide because he was rarely home as he was looking for jobs.

You didn’t want to hide this from him. But you did, in fear that something would happen with your relationship as you wanted to keep the baby. You didn’t have a plan, you didn’t know when you were gonna tell him, all you knew was that you were gonna hide it for as long as possible.

Dae-ho’s hand on your arm snapped you back into reality. You look up at his worried face and just start crying, the hormones getting to you.

“Hey…. What’s going on…” He asks softly.

“I- I’m sorry-“ You stutter.

“Talk to me baby…” He puts a hand on your waist.

You back up, not wanting to be reminded that he knows now.

He keeps his distance but it kills him to see you like this.

“I’m- I’m pregnant-…” you say softly as you continue crying.

“W-“ He struggles to find his words “For how long??-…”

“Five months….” You admit.

“Why didn’t you tell me baby??” He says, still in shock.

“I’m sorry…” you continue crying into your hands.

He walks over to you and hugs you tightly.

You cry into his chest. “I thought- you would be mad..”

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you….” He asks softly.

“I don’t know….” You say, starting to calm down a little.

He continues to hold you and comfort you, silently cursing at himself for voting O, now realizing how much harder this is gonna be.

Later that evening you and Dae-ho join a group of three other boys, Gi-hun, Young-il, and Jung-bae.

You sit with the boys, your arms resting around your stomach out of habit and Jung-bae can’t help but notice.

“I’m gonna go take a quick nap..” You say to the group, your exhaustion getting the best of you.

You distinctively hear Gi-hun say something about dinner soon but just brush it off, too tired to even listen.

“I’ll be fine..” you say as you walk to your nearby bed and collapse on it.

Once Jung-bae notices you’re gone he looks at Dae-ho. “Is she um.. yk..” He asks nosily.

Dae-ho just sighs and nods and the group looks a little shocked, Feeling a newfound protectiveness for you, their new group mate.

After the group gets over the initial shock of the situation they start making a plan on what to do for the next games and how they are gonna survive as a group.

The sound of a voice saying to line up for dinner interrupts their conversation and Dae-ho goes to wake you up. You groan, not wanting to get up and slowly get out of bed before following him into the line. (He lets you go first cause he’s a gentleman 😘)

You guys get your food and go back to the spot where you were previously sitting. Right when you sat down a wave of nausea hit you and you just didn’t want to eat at all.

Dae-ho notices this. “Hey are you ok?”

You whimper slightly. “I can’t eat…”

The group looks at you concerned and Dae-ho speaks up again. “Why what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know I just feel sick…” You reply, leaning on him.

He rubs your arm softly before young-il speaks up. “You should really try to eat… the next meal won’t be till tomorrow morning… that’s probably not safe considering-“

Dae-ho cuts him off, not wanting to have you be reminded of it and get more stressed right now. “He’s right… try to eat just a little hm?”

You pout at him. “fine..”

You take small bites of your food, it’s not terrible but it’s definitely not making your nausea any better. Nonetheless you push through, knowing that you need to eat for the baby.

Dae-ho looks at you happily, glad you decided to eat.

You try to eat as much as you can before you just set the food down and lean on Dae-ho again, his presence comforting you through your sickness.

You end up falling asleep on him as the group just talks and continues their plan.

Once again, the voice on the speaker starts talking saying it’s time for bed or something. You don’t really know as you’re half asleep.

You feel Dae-ho softly guiding you off of where you were sitting and the next thing you know you’re in your bed, Dae-ho softly putting the covers over you before kissing your forehead.

“Goodnight N/N, I love you..” He says softly.

You smile sleepily at the nickname and reply. “Goodnight Dae.. I love you too..”

The rest is a blur until you finally fall asleep.

The next morning starts the same as the first. Everyone lines up to get breakfast.

You get your food, actually hungry this time and open the tin container, immediately eating everything while sitting in your bed. Dae-ho is with the group but if you’re being honest you’re not in the mood to socialize this morning so he decided to give you some space. That is until the old woman, Geum-ja, came up to you again.

“How are you feeling?” She asked sweetly.

“Better…” You reply shortly.

She holds her tin of food in her hands as she looks down at your empty one before handing you hers.

“Oh- no no it’s fine really-“ you try to reason with her, not wanting to take food from her.

“Oh don’t be silly it’s ok… You need to eat more..” she smiles as she hands you her food.

You bow, very thankful because you’re really hungry. “Thank you- you really didn’t have too..”

“Don’t mention it” she gives you a smile before her son comes over telling her to not scare him like that.

You sit there awkwardly as they talk before the old woman waves goodbye to you and smiles. You wave back at her before eating the food she gave you.

Shortly after eating the speaker says that it’s time for the first game and to follow the guards. You remember what Gi-hun told your group last night, pick the triangle. Knowing what to do for this next game, you feel pretty confident but are still nervous.

You rejoin with your group as you guys walk towards the doors into the colorful room with stairs.

You all walk in silence before Dae-ho speaks up. “You feeling better?”

You nod and reply. “Ya… I was actually able to eat so I feel alot better”

Dae-ho smiles and keeps walking up the stairs.

Everyone gets to the door and when it opens, confusion fills the room.

“This is the dalgona game.. right?” you ask Gi-hun, really confused.

He sighs and looks at you. “I don’t know what this is..”

The familiar feeling of anxiety crept back up your body but you tried to keep it at shore as everyone walked into the room.

Everyone stayed by their group as the rules for the game came over the speaker. “This game is the six-legged pentathlon. A group of five will be connected by their ankles in the order of who is gonna play the first mini game to who is gonna play the last. The Mini games consist of the following: Dakji, flying stone, gonggi, spinning tops, and Jegi. The group will complete the five mini games within the time limit and cross the finish line or they will be eliminated.”

After the announcement everyone immediately started scrambling, trying to find groups but the five of you just stayed with each other, discussing who was gonna do what.

Since your the only girl in the group everyone excepted you to know how to play gonggi but you surprisingly didn’t. Luckily for you guys Dae-ho would play it with his sisters and he get really good at it. So that was settled. Now everyone else just had to figure out what they were gonna do.

“I can do Dakji…” you said softly, not really knowing what else to do.

Everyone agreed on it and the rest of the line up was decided. You do Dakji, Jung-bae does flying stone, Dae-ho does gonggi, Young-il does spinning tops, and Gi-hun does Jegi.

Your groups discussion was soon interrupted by the first two groups going up, who soon later both lost.

As the games went on the waiting players became more immersed in watching the other players play and started cheering them on, acting as an audience.

A group finally won and everyone started cheering and jumping but you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t jump don’t jump” Dae-ho said softly, not wanting you to use your energy or stress your body out.

You listened to him but kept cheering along with everyone else. For a second, you forgot this was a game where you could die and you’re not here to have fun. That was until gun shots from the other side of the room interrupted everyone’s cheering and brought them back to the harsh reality.

After many games it was your teams turn. You were the second to last team to play therefore you had no audience which your group was sad about. You on the other hand had no room to be sad as you were internally freaking out.

Your group lined up and your ankles got chained together. Then. The game started.

Your group walks in sync to the first mini game, Dakji.

You grab square piece of paper and throw it as hard as possible at the one on the floor, and to your surprise, it flips over. The group cheered as the walked to the next mini game. Jung-bae grabbed the stone and threw it at the other one, hitting it perfectly. The group cheered again and continued walking to the next one. They all sat on the floor in-front of a small table as Dae-ho skillfully handled the gonggi. Everyone watches in amazement as they pass right away.

They get up and walk to the next mini game, spinning tops. Everything was going good until Young-il messed up. Over and over and over. At this point it just seemed like he was doing it on purpose cause how can you possibly throw it behind you?? (Bro was totally doing it on purpose 😭)

After some focusing and stressing he finally got it. But you guys had no time to spare. Everyone quickly made their way over to the next mini game. Gi-hun quickly kicked the Jegi four times before kicking it way in-front of him.

Your heart stopped. “This is it” you thought to yourself before you were yanked forward towards the finish line. Young-il had helped Gi-hun kick it last second.

You guys passed the finish line, all relieved until you saw the other team in-front of you get shot. Despite winning, this made your heart heavy, remembering the situation you’re still in.

After getting your ankles unchained all of you walked back into the room, getting stares from everyone and heating groans from people that wished more people would die.

You stayed silent the rest of the evening until the vote. Your group had collectively decided to vote for X this time. You were sure you were gonna make it out. Until you weren’t.

By the end of the vote, O won again. And even worse, Jung-bae voted for O. Your own team member!

After realizing you were gonna be stuck in this hell hole for another game you definitely didn’t feel like eating, you got up and went into the bathroom, getting sick thinking about what you saw today and just because of your pregnancy in general.

*knock knock* “are you ok y/n?” The old woman says from outside the stall door.

“Ya-“ you wipe your mouth off with toilet paper before flushing the toilet and coming out.

“Remember if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask me…” She says reassuringly.

“Thank you..” you give her a soft smile before going to wash your hands.

When you come out of the bathroom you go back over to your group and see Jung-bae sitting with them again. Dae-ho must’ve brought him back.

You sigh and sit with them.

Dae-ho looks at you concerned. “Are you ok did you eat”

“I can’t Dae…” you reply tiredly and lean on him once again.

“Cmon baby just a little…” he nudges you.

You force yourself to remember that you can’t be skipping meals now due to your baby, Before sighing. “Ok…”

You eat some of the food, the nausea surprisingly going away.

“Drink some water too..” Dae-ho reminds you.

You nod and drink your water, immediately feeling alot better, still leaning on him.

Your eyes become heavy and you distinctively hear the group talking about something to do with a fight but you don’t pay much attention and fall asleep on Dae-ho’s shoulder.

*time skip to night*

You wake up on a mattress on the floor, super confused, and look to your right and see Dae-ho sleeping under a bed on the mattress? 😭

You look to your left and see young-il and Jung-bae also under the beds on a mattress.

Confused, you sit up and see Gi-hun awake, just sitting there. You get up and walk over to him.

“I need to use the bathroom” you say quietly to him.

Gi-hun looks at you. “It’s too dangerous to go alone-“

“I’ll go with her” the old woman says from the bed above you.

You and the old woman go over to the bathroom, only to be refused entry by the guards. So the old woman being the baddie she is puts on a pretty convincing sob story before the guards finally let you guys in, another girl showing up behind you guys and asking if she should come too.

“Don’t worry she’s a woman” the old woman says and the other girl follows you guys into the bathroom.

You quickly go into a stall and just cry. You’re so scared and you just wanna go home. You wanna lay in your bed again. You don’t even care if you’re in debt you just wanna go home.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the old woman opening the door.

“Are you ok? Is your baby coming? Is it your stomach?” The old woman questions you worriedly.

“I’m so scared” you say crying more before she hugs you tightly.

“It’s ok..” she comforts you.

That’s the last thing that things feel like right now. “Ok”.

You calm down after a bit and she leads you back over to your bed.

You step in between Gi-hun and Jung-bae, who is now up, to get to your bed.

You notice the Dae-ho is literally half way on your bed so you just decide to use his arm as a pillow. He gets a little startled but immediately falls asleep after. You hold onto his arm in your sleep, him being the only way to comfort you in this hell. After a bit of thinking you slowly drift off to sleep, feeling a little better that you’re not alone in this.

a/n: thank you for reading this took absolutely forever! I want to make a part two so let me know if you guys would be interested!!

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