#raye you can’t keep getting away with this

[doehoney]

I SEE A SAD LITTLE SINNER IN THE MIRROR, THE DEVIL WORKS HARD LIKE MY LIVER, I DONT WANNA BE ALIVE BUT I DONT WANNA DIE, FISTFUL OF PILLS AND RIVERS IN MY EYES, IVE GOT NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE, DEAR GOD IN THE SKY, HEAR MY CRY, HEAR MY CRY, ITS TOO DARK TO SEE, LET THERE BE LIGHT

[thewickedjazzy]

𓍼𝑽𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑶𝒇 𝑴𝒚 𝑶𝒘𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚𓂃

➵ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : Beast! Dazai osamu x f! reader

➵ 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸: You are Dazai's favourite—an executive who avoided unnecessary bloodshed, preferring to strategize behind the scenes. With your cunning plans, you helped the Port Mafia flourish after Mori's death, and under Dazai's leadership, you became vital in securing the organization's power.

➵ 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: NSFW minor dni, smut, angst, dazai is controlling, yandere dazai?, character death, abuse, guns, blood, SA, dissociation, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, let me know if I forgot any Xx.

➵ 𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮: Helloooo, this fic took me 3 weeks to finish, I'm always down with angst stories cause, let's be real, no bsd fan doesn't like angst, right? also, ice cream man by raye inspired me to write some parts uwu I hope you enjoy it. xoxo -dividers credits to @anitalenia

➵ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 6.8k

You shouldn't be crying. You already did beat the man up till he was shaking, but you couldn't help it. You can still feel his ice-cold hands marking your body, a sensation that sends shivers down your spine. How you wish you could express how you feel, how you felt in that moment when your strength faltered. You long to explain why you’re silently blaming yourself, why the guilt gnaws at your insides like a relentless parasite.

You put on these faces, pretending you're fine, wearing a mask of strength that you desperately want to believe in. But in the privacy of the bathroom, you press rewind, playing the events over and over in your head. His fingerprints, like invisible stains, linger on your skin, a cruel reminder of how he made you frame yourself for his sins. Such a pathetic, dead excuse of a man.

The man in question wasn’t just some random thug—he was your crazy ex, the one who had haunted you for years, refusing to let go, even after everything had ended. You hadn’t told anyone about the encounter. What would they think? What would he think? Dazai, with his sharp eyes and sharper mind, would see right through you. He always did.

You straighten up and hastily wipe your tears away as you hear a knock on the door. The sound sends a jolt through your body, and you quickly compose yourself, trying to erase any trace of vulnerability from your face.

Seated at your desk, you take a deep breath and call out, "Come in."

The door opens, and it's Chuuya, greeting you with his usual smile. But the moment his eyes land on you, the smile drops, concern filling his gaze as he takes in your red nose and puffy eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”' he asks with a low and gentle voice.

You force a weak smile, shaking your head. "Yeah..just... pmsing," you lie, the excuse feeling hollow even to you. You get up walking towards him before adding quickly, "Please don’t tell Dazai."

Chuuya hesitates, his eyes searching yours, before he nods, accepting your words without question. He hands you his handkerchief, his expression softening with sympathy as you take it from him.

You dab at your eyes, feeling the wetness seep into it, and then take a deep breath. You can’t afford to break down, not now. Not in front of him.

He escorted you to Dazai’s office, his presence a quiet comfort. At the door, he gave you a final, soft look before turning away.

The office door creaked open, and you stepped inside, the chill of the room amplifying the coldness you already felt. Dazai looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your disheveled state.

“Rough day?” he asked, voice so velvetly soft that it could melt you.

You tried to muster a casual smile, but it felt hollow. “Just had a run-in with some old... baggage. Nothing to worry about.”

Dazai’s eyes didn’t leave you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “You know I don’t buy that ‘nothing’ act. What’s really going on?”

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your voice steady. “It’s really not your concern. I’m handling it.”

Dazai’s gaze was sharp as he looked you up from his desk, his usual lazy posture replaced by a steely focus. “Come here,” he said, a command wrapped in casual tones.

Reluctantly, you approached, his eyes never leaving you. He patted his lap, a gesture both familiar and unsettling. “Sit.”

You shook your head, trying to avoid his intense stare, oh god how he toys with your emotions. “I’m fine standing.”

Dazai’s expression darkened slightly, his patience wearing thin. He reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist as he pulled you closer. The touch was feather-light but unmistakably commanding. He guided you gently onto his lap, his hands resting on your waist.

You stiffened, trying to keep your breathing steady. “Osamu, really, it’s nothing.”

Ignoring your protests, Dazai’s lips brushed against your neck, his kisses soft but insistent. You tilted your head, a soft whimper escaping your lips. The sensation was like a nicotine hit after a long withdrawal; you had been away on a mission for three days, and you had missed his touch more than you cared to admit. As his lips continued their tender assault, he pulled your shirt down slightly, revealing the fresh bruise that marred your skin.

Dazai’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint reflecting in them. The bruise was vivid, a stark contrast against your pale skin, and his expression darkened as he took in the sight.

“Who did this?” he asked coldly, his voice remained low.

You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s not important.”

Dazai’s hand tightened on your waist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tilted your head back. His kisses turned sharper, more insistent, and you couldn’t help but let out soft whimpers. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips pressing harder with each passing second. “I said who did this..”

You swallowed hard, the pressure of his words mixing with the lingering sting of the bruise. “It’s nothing. Just...someone from my past.”

His grip remained unyielding, his gaze piercing. “I don’t like secrets. Especially ones that involve you getting hurt.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the weight of his expectations pressing down. You felt cornered, unable to escape the intensity of his scrutiny. “I said it’s nothing. Please, just let it go.”

Dazai’s expression remained impassive for a moment, then he simply nodded. The acknowledgment was neither reassuring nor dismissive, leaving a cold tension in the air.

After a few seconds of silence Dazai's voice cut through the room, his fingers still brushing against your skin. “The thing is, my love, you don’t have to tell me anything.” He turned to the intercom on his desk, his tone shifting to a cold, commanding edge. “Atsushi, you can bring him in now.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your legs going weak as you tried to turn your head towards the door. It creaked open slightly, and Atsushi rushed in, dragging your ex behind him. Your ex’s hands were bound tightly, and he was unconscious, a cloth over his mouth. Atsushi tossed him roughly onto the floor and announced, “I brought him alive, just as you ordered.”

“Good work, Atsushi,” he said calmly. “You can leave now.”

Dazai’s gaze remained on you, his smile twisted with a cruel satisfaction as Atsushi closed the door behind him. He lifted your legs lightly, forcing you to stand as he moved toward the prone figure of your ex, who was beginning to stir. Dazai’s fingers traced along your ex’s jawline with an unsettling gentleness.

Horror gripped you as you watched, understanding what was about to unfold. You begged, your voice trembling, “Please, Dazai, don’t kill him.”

He merely tsked in response, his eyes cold and unyielding. “I’m not going to kill him.”

Before you could take a deep breath, his voice sliced through the tension like an arrow. “You are the one who's going to do it.” He gently grabs your hands placing a gun between them.

Your hands trembled as you held the gun, the cold metal biting into your palms. The room was deathly silent except for the faint, ragged breaths of your ex as he began to regain consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a mix of confusion and fear as he took in his surroundings.

Dazai’s cold eyes were locked on you.“Go on,” he urged softly. “You wanted him to suffer for what he did. Here’s your chance.”

The gun felt impossibly heavy, and your heart pounded in your chest. You glanced at your ex, his eyes widening in terror as he realized what was happening. “Please,” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone else. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

Dazai’s smile widened slightly. “It doesn’t matter what you wanted. You’ve been given a choice. What will you do with it?”

Your mind raced, grappling with the gravity of the situation. You thought of the pain he’d caused you, the fear he had instilled, and the bruises that still stung. Yet, the thought of ending his life filled you with a profound dread. You felt trapped, the decision crushing under the weight of Dazai’s expectation and your own turmoil.

“Do it,” Dazai said, his voice a soft command, almost a caress. “Or I’ll do it for you. But if I do, you’ll have missed your chance to decide your own fate.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you faced your ex, his terror and confusion mirroring your own. Choked sobs left you lips Dazai’s gaze followed every movement with a sick interest.

“Please, Dazai..don’t make me do this,” you pleaded, your voice cracking.

Dazai’s expressionwas stoic as ever. “You’re not being asked to make a choice you can’t live with. You’re being given the chance to claim control over your own life.”

With a final, desperate look at your ex, you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The gun felt like a lead weight in your hand, the gravity of your decision pressing down on you. Finally, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, you raised the gun.

You closed your eyes tightly, the room spinning as you tried to steady your racing heart. The gun trembled in your grip, the weight of the decision nearly unbearable. You heard Dazai move behind you, his footsteps silent against the floor.

His presence was almost soothing as he came closer, but you knew better than to trust the comfort of his proximity. Dazai's hands settled on your outstretched arms, his touch both firm and unsettlingly gentle. His fingers caressed the metal of the gun, guiding it with a measured pressure.

“You don’t need to hesitate,” Dazai murmured softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve already made the decision. Now, you just need to follow through.”

The sensation of his hands on yours, the intimate pressure of his grip, made your breathing shallow and uneven. You felt a dark, twisted sense of helplessness as his fingers guided the gun, aligning it with your ex’s trembling form.

“I’ll count to three,” Dazai continued, his voice was steady “And when I reach three, I want you to pull the trigger. Don’t let yourself falter.”

You felt his breath on your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. The intimacy of his touch contrasted sharply with the gravity of the moment. You wanted to pull away, to escape the suffocating pressure, but his grip held you firmly in place.

“One,” Dazai said, his voice calm as he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

Your tears fell silently as you fought against the urge to drop the gun.

“Two,” Dazai’s breath was warm as he pressed another kiss.

You could hear your ex’s shallow breaths, his eyes pleading as they met yours.

“Three,” Dazai said, his voice now a commanding whisper.

With a final, shuddering breath, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the world as you pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed painfully in the room, and you felt the impact of the action resonate through your very core.

You opened your eyes, your arms fell limp as the gun slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor with a hollow clatter. You staggered back, your legs barely holding you upright, and turned away from the grim sight before you.

Dazai’s grip on your shoulders was a cold anchor as he held you steady, his touch paradoxically soothing yet possessive. You could feel his breath against your neck as he leaned in close, his voice a chilling murmur. “Well done,” he said placing soft kisses again as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling your back against his chest. “You’ve proven your resolve.”

You felt a wave of nausea and despair wash over you, your emotions a tangled mess of guilt and horror. The room spun as you tried to make sense of the scene in front of you. The body on the floor was now still, the weight of your actions sinking in with a heavy finality.

Dazai’s hands slid down to your wrists, his touch now insistent as he forced you to look at the aftermath. “Do you see what you’ve done?” he asked softly, his voice a mix of praise and dark satisfaction. “You’ve taken control of your own fate.”

You tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, his presence an oppressive force that left you feeling trapped. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any semblance of escape, but all you found was the unyielding gaze of Dazai, his face reflecting a mixture of cold pleasure and calculated dominance.

His fingers gently traced your jawline, his touch both tender and unsettling. “It’s done now,” he said, his voice almost affectionate. “You did great, my love.”

The finality of his words echoed in your mind as you struggled to come to terms with what had just happened. The tears streaming down your face were a testament to the turmoil within you, the depth of your inner conflict clear as you fought to keep yourself composed.

Dazai’s hands gently turned you around to face him. His expression, though tinged with satisfaction, softened as he wiped away the tears streaming down your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he carefully brushed away the last remnants of your distress.

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The tenderness of the moment was jarring against the harsh reality of what had just occurred. His lips moved gently against yours, and he licked your bottom lip before drawing it into a passionate, consuming kiss.

The warmth of his kiss contrasted sharply with the icy numbness you felt inside. You felt his fingers trace your face, lingering on the slight traces of blood that you hadn’t even noticed. His touch was delicate, almost intimate, as he wiped away the remnants with careful precision.

Dazai pulled away from the kiss, his expression unreadable as he reached for the intercom on his desk. “Atsushi,” he said with a cold, commanding tone, “bring in the clean-up crew. Dispose the body.”

Atsushi entered the room, his eyes shifting between you and Dazai. He bowed slightly, acknowledging the order before moving towards the body. As he lifted your ex’s lifeless form, the finality of the situation hit you with renewed force. You stared blankly, more tears streaming down your face, as Atsushi carried the body out and closed the door behind him.

The room was filled with the soft hum of Dazai’s presence as he moved back in front of you. He gently placed his hands on your cheeks, shushing you softly as your sobs grew louder. “Shh, it’s alright,”he murmured, his voice almost soothing.

You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, your sobs escaping in ragged bursts. Dazai’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. His embrace was both comforting and suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice a murmur against your hair. “I know it was hard.”

You could barely respond, the weight of your own emotions too heavy to articulate. All you could do was clutch at him, your sobs muffled against his chest as the realization of what had happened continued to sink in. You hated him, and yet, in the chaos of your emotions, you felt a desperate, confusing affection for him—a love that seemed to only grow more complicated in the aftermath of his actions.

Dazai’s fingers gently combed through your hair, his touch soothing despite the circumstances. “It’s all over now,” he said softly.

His lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, “He should've known better than to touch what's mine.”

The room was filled with the constant contact of your colliding bodies. Your body arched against the rumpled sheets as his thrusts filled you completely, each stroke hitting exactly the right spots.

" Mmm.. that's it my love, take my cock all the way inside this pretty eager pussy of yours" he growled softly against your skin.

You relished the way every thrust brushed against your cervix, sending waves of pleasure through you. The intensity of his movements left you feeling utterly consumed, your mind hazed and eyes glossy with desire. Your fingers dug into his back, desperately clutching him as he moved with a raw intensity.

His lips traveled down your neck, biting and kissing with a fervent need. One hand cupped your breast with a possessive grip while his mouth hovered over the other, teasing with gentle flicks of his tongue and playful nips at your nipple. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, your moans filling the space between you.

Yet, even in the midst of this passion, your mind began to wander. The memories of the past few days—the confrontation, the guilt, and Dazai’s chilling command—flooded your thoughts, turning the intense pleasure into a distant murmur. You felt a growing disconnection, your body reacting while your mind struggled to stay present.

Sensing the abrupt change, Dazai felt as if he were thrusting into a lifeless body. He slowed his movements and pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a rare softness. “What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, concern filling his lustrous gaze.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as your voice, though shaky, was firm. “It’s fine,” you reassured him, forcing a weak smile. “I just... got lost in my thoughts for a moment. It’s nothing.” You reached out to gently touch his cheek, trying to convey that the issue was more internal than it was about him.

Dazai took a deep breath and shifted to sit upright, his concern still evident. “You're still thinking about it, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine worry.

"Please, just forget about it." you said, pulling his wrist with a firm but gentle grip. Before he could respond, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him deeply to steer your focus back to the present.

Dazai gasped into the kiss, his breath hitching as your kissed him with fervor. He gently pinned your wrists down with a possessive grip, his lips trailing soft kisses along your chest. He positioned himself again, his cock pressing against your throbbing cunt, his voice a low murmur.

“We can stop if it’s too much, my love,” he whispered as his chest moves up and down with each breath.

You locked gaze with his eyes, “Just fuck me already,” you breathed. You wanted to reclaim the moment, to bury the past beneath the intense passion that bound you both.

He slams his cock into you again, filling you completely. A growl escapes his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the sight of your reactions. His thrusts become more powerful, and he showers your neck, chest, and breasts with fervent kisses.

"So addict to my cock, love? Hmm?" he continues to taunt you with his words and delivers a firm slap to your ass, making you shiver from his touch.

You gasp, arching your back as his thrusts hit all the right spots. “It feels so good, 'samu” you breathe, trying to steady yourself.

He slaps your ass again, making you shiver and whimper. “Say it again, my love haah~ I need to hear you say how good ugh~I’m making you feel.”

“s'good,” you moan, your voice breaking.

"Good" with a satisfied growl, he pulls out. “Now, ride me.”

You nod, your legs trembling in anticipation. As you position yourself over him, he hisses at the sensation of your cold hand guiding his hard, leaking cock to your eager, wet cunt.

As you sink down onto him, your walls stretches to accommodate his size, a deep moan slipping from your lips as you take him in fully. The feeling is overwhelming, your inner walls tightening around him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you.

His long slender fingers grip your hips, helping you find a rhythm as you begin to ride against him. Each roll of your hips sends waves of pleasure through you, the friction making you shudder.

You lean forward, your fingers fumbling as you carefully remove the bandage from his eye. Your breath is hot against his neck as you whisper, “’Samu, I love you.” Your body presses against his, and with a surge of passion, you begin to ride him at a faster pace, each movement gaining a growl from him.

His eye, now fully exposed, darkens with lust as he gazes up at you. “I love you too, darling,” he murmurs through soft gasps. He meets your rhythm with powerful thrusts, each one driving deeper into you, matching your pace perfectly.

Feeling the pressure building within you, your moans grow louder. “I’m... close, ‘Samu,” you gasp, your trembling hands held onto his shoulders for support as you ride him faster, rolling your hips against his perfect sized cock feeling him hit every spot with his thrusts against you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he groans in pleasure. “Oh yeah? Come all over my cock, love,” beads of sweat rolling down his temples, his words sending you spiraling closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you through the overwhelming waves of pleasure as your body trembles in his grasp.

The coil inside you finally snaps, releasing a wave of ecstasy that washes over you. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming, ah~ hmm~,” you cry out, your body going numb from the overwhelming pleasure. Your juices flow freely, spilling down and coating his cock as his thrusts become more intense, shaking your body upwards.

Dazai's growls of satisfaction mix with your moans as he thrusts upward forcefully, riding out his own climax. His body shudders with the release, and he moans loudly, his pleasure echoing through the room.

As the intense waves of pleasure begin to subside, Dazai slowly pulls out, his breath heavy and ragged. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close tenderly. The warmth of his embrace soothes you, bringing a sense of comfort and safety as you both calm down from your shared high. His fingers gently caress circles on your back, his breathing gradually steadying as he murmurs softly into your ear, “God, you did so well, my love.”

You watch him as he gets up, stretching slightly before heading towards the bathroom, the soft hum of water barely filling the room as he turns on the shower. The warmth of the bed still lingers around you, but it does little to quell the chill creeping into your thoughts.

Your mind drifts back to that moment a few days ago. The weight of the gun in your hand, the resistance of the trigger as you squeezed it—it's all so vivid, so real, that it feels as if you're still there, frozen in that moment. You can almost hear the echoes of the shot ringing in your ears, see the flash of surprise in his eyes as life slipped away from him.

You shake your head, trying to dispel the images, but they cling stubbornly, refusing to let go.

He calls your name from the shower, his voice gentle, inviting, yet tinged with concern when you don’t respond immediately. The sound is almost enough to pull you back, but your mind remains caught in that dark place, replaying the scene over and over.

"My love?" another call, softer this time, as he pushes the already ajar bathroom door further open to check on you. His presence pulls you back just enough to acknowledge him, to let the past slip away—at least for now.

His eyes meet yours, concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

You nod, forcing yourself to sit up. “I’m fine,” You managed to get off the bed, the cool air brushing against your naked skin, grounding you somewhat.

As you step into the bathroom, your body moves on autopilot, but your mind remains distant. You tell yourself that in a week or so, the memory will fade, that the guilt will lessen, that you’ll forget. But deep down, you know it's just another lie you’re feeding yourself, another attempt to bury the truth under layers of denial.

He steps aside to let you join him under the warm cascade of water, his arms wrapping around you as he senses your unease. “Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you’re safe with me, my love.”

You nod, leaning into his embrace, but the words feel hollow, the comfort fleeting. The water washes over you, warm and soothing, but it can’t cleanse the darkness that lingers within.

You stood in front of the mirror, the dim light casting shadows on your face. Your reflection stared back at you, hollow eyes and a face pale from sleepless nights. The trauma of the past week weighed heavily on you, the memory of the blood-soaked room and the desperate cries of your ex replaying in your mind over and over again.

It had been a week since that horrifying event, but still the memory still clung to your mind like a stubborn stain. Dazai had been more affectionate than usual since then, uncharacteristically tender in his way.

The intimacy between you had taken on a new, softer turn, the moments shared tinged with an almost fragile gentleness. His eyes, once so sharp, now held an unsettling softness, as if he were trying to erase the darkness with his own brand of twisted comfort.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trapped—caught in a web he’d spun so intricately that you hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

You had tried to bury the memory, to push it away with every ounce of strength you had. But it never really left, lurking in the corners of your mind—what you had been forced to do.

You needed a break, a breath of fresh air, anything to push back the suffocating fog that had taken over your mind. So, you grabbed your coat, slipped into your favourite boots, and stepped out of your apartment, clinging to the hope of finding some shred of normalcy.

The bar was a refuge, a place where the world’s harsh edges seemed to dull. It was where you went to forget, even if only for a little while. As you walked through the door, the familiar clink of glasses and murmur of conversation welcomed you. The warmth inside, the smoky haze and soft jazz music they all played a part into easing you up even for a bit.

You made your way to the bar, your usual seat already occupied. The bartender greeted you with a nod, his understanding gaze a small comfort. You ordered your drink and settled into your chair, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness from the past week.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. You picked it up and saw a message from Chuuya: "Hey, just checking in. Are you okay? I’m worried about you."

You typed back: "I’m fine, just needed some time to clear my head. At the bar now, trying to relax a bit." You hit send and put your phone down, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

That's when you heard a familiar voice. You looked up and saw Kaito standing there, a surprise that made your heart skip. It had been years since you last saw him. He was the one who had helped you escape from your ex's grip, the only person who had reached out to pull you from that nightmare.

“Hey..." he said, his voice warm but edged with worry. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You gestured to the empty seat beside you. “Sit. I could use the company.”

Kaito slid into the chair, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You look... different. Is everything okay?”

The question was like a trigger, a floodgate that opened the dam of your emotions. You looked away, taking a deep breath. “It’s been... a rough week.”

He looked at you concerned, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he ordered a drink, and the two of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“I heard your ex went missing. I just wanted to check in...uh...make sure you’re alright. I know how much he hurt you.”

The mention of your ex was like a punch to the gut, the memory of that night resurfacing with cruel clarity. You struggled to keep your composure, taking a sip of your drink to steady yourself. “I... I don’t know what happened to him.”

Kaito’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. “I just wanted to make sure he’s not plotting anything or trying to reach you again. I know what he put you through.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. “Thank you...but seriously I don't know anything about him.”

Before Kaito could respond, your phone buzzed again. You glanced at it and saw a new message from Chuuya: “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

You were about to reply when Kaito’s voice broke through your thoughts. “ You okay? You seem a bit lost."

You forced a smile, brushing off the concern. “It’s nothing. I just needed a bit of air.”

You stood up, glancing at Kaito. “It was really nice seeing you after all tonight.”

You placed a few yen on the bar as a tip and offered Kaito a final, appreciative look before heading towards the door. Stepping out into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, hoping the walk would clear your head. Hearing the door swung shut behind you.

The crisp breeze brushed against your face as you began walking down the pavement, each step attempting to ground you in the present, you tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of your footsteps, letting the chill seep through your coat and numb your thoughts.

Just as you were beginning to lose yourself in the soothing cadence of the night, a familiar voice cut through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a voice you knew too well, one that you loved the most—Dazai’s.

Turning slowly, you saw him standing there, his figure framed by the dim streetlights.

“Out for a late-night stroll?” His voice was low and smooth so so smooth.

"Osamu" You whispered his name, barely audible over the street noise, as he approached you. His tall frame seemed to shield you from the harsh cold breeze that had been nipping at your skin.

His arms reached out, pulling you into a desperate, intense embrace. The warmth of his body pierced through the biting cold of the night. You closed your eyes, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his captivating perfume that you were addicted to.

“How are you feeling, my love?” the vibrations of his soft voice soothed you.

You murmured a reply, “Fine,” nuzzling your face into his warm chest. His coat offered a cocoon of comfort against the cold. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that both soothed and troubled you. His soft, cold lips brushed gentle kisses against your hairline, each touch leaving you wanting more.

Dazai’s gaze softened as he tilted your head gently, his fingers brushing against your cheeks with tender.

His lips, still cold from the evening air, found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. The sensation was electric, a jolt of warmth that spread through you, making you forget the cold that had been clinging to you just moments before.

Your lips parted slightly, and you felt his bottom lip against yours, his kiss deepening as he traced a path of warmth across your mouth. His hands roamed softly over your body, every touch sending shivers down your spine.

When he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours filled with affection. “I’ve got a surprise for you, my love,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“A surprise?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as your heart fluttered. The night’s chill seemed to dissipate as you gazed up at him, eager to discover what he had under his sleeve.

Dazai’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he said, “Follow me, my love.” He guided you through the city streets, leading you to his penthouse—an opulent space you were intimately familiar with. As you entered, the familiar strains of soft jazz filled the room, its soothing melodies filled your ears.

You shrugged off your coat and sank into the nearby couch, glancing up at him curious.

“You know how much I cherish you, don’t you?”

You nodded, a shiver running down your spine. What is he intending to do?

“And you remember when I swore to protect you with my life, back when we shared our first night together?” His eyes bore into yours, searching for affirmation.

Again, you nodded, feeling a knot of unease tightening in your stomach.

He reached out and took your hand, leading you to a door you had never entered before. He typed in a series of digits, and the door slid open with a soft whoosh. What lay beyond sent a jolt of shock through you: Kaito, tied up against the wall with chains, his eyes wide with fear.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you stared at the scene in disbelief.

Dazai’s gaze on you never wavered. “You recognize him, don’t you? The one who claimed to be your savior,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of derision. “Kaito, the one who helped you escape. Such a noble act, don’t you think?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the sight before you. “No... no, this can’t be real,” you stammered, the words spilling from your lips in a disbelieving murmur. “This isn’t happening. Not again.”

Dazai stepped closer, his expression both smug and infuriatingly calm. “Isn’t it? How often have you been deceived by those who promised you protection and safety? This was no different.”

You shook your head, trying to process the absurdity of it all. “But Kaito—he was different! He helped me when I needed it most. You don't understand he's the only one who saved me from my ex.”

The disillusionment in your voice only seemed to amuse Dazai. “And you think that makes him any less of a threat? How easily you’ve been misled. Did you ever consider that he was simply another pawn in your ex’s game? A way to keep you within his reach?”

Your gaze shifted to Kaito, who was now looking at you with desperation. The realization that Dazai might be telling the truth hit you like a physical blow. “No, he can’t be. He was... he was kind to me. He never hurt me.”

Dazai’s gaze was unrelenting, his tone dripping with cold logic. “Kindness can be deceiving. Sometimes, it’s just a means to an end. Kaito’s actions were a calculated move, meant to keep you under control, to make you trust him while feeding information to your ex.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you faced Dazai, the weight of his words crushing you. “You’re... you’re insane! You can’t do this to me again. STOP IT STOP HURTING ME!”

Dazai’s hand reached up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold and unyielding, the warmth of his voice now a sharp contrast to the icy anger in his eyes. “I’m not insane. I’m showing you the truth, my love. Kaito was never your friend. If you don’t make a choice now, I will choose for you.”

The room seemed to close in around you, your heart pounding wildly. You were ensnared between the echoes of your past and the oppressive reality Dazai had crafted, desperately searching for an escape from the nightmare he had ensnared you in.

Dazai's lips curved into a passionate smile as he placed the cold, heavy gun into your trembling hands. The weapon, tainted with the blood of your ex, seemed to burn with its own malevolent energy. His eyes gleamed with a twisted sense of pride.

“Come on, my love,” he urged, his voice laced with a seductive intensity. “Take control of your own life. Show everyone that you’re not someone to be trifled with. Make them fear you. No one dares to hurt you again.”

His words echoed through the room, mingling with the suffocating tension that surrounded you. The weight of the gun felt like a cruel burden, a symbol of the power Dazai was forcing upon you.

As you looked at Kaito, bound and vulnerable, a storm of emotions raged inside you. Dazai’s gaze remained unwavering, his expectations clear: the choice was yours to make, but his influence loomed over every decision.

The gun felt like a leaden weight in your hands, the reality of the situation crashing down upon you. Tears streamed down your face as you crumpled, the gun slipping from your grasp and clattering to the floor. Your voice, choked with despair, broke through the oppressive silence.

“I can’t do this again... not again,” you sobbed, shaking your head furiously. You pulled your legs to your chest, curling up in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the cruelty of Dazai’s demands.

Dazai’s expression shifted from steely determination to a weary sigh. With a resigned shake of his head, he stepped forward, reclaiming the gun from where it had fallen. His movements were deliberate, almost tender, as he aimed it at Kaito, who stared back in terror.

Three shots rang out, each one echoing with finality. The sound was deafening, reverberating through the room and drowning out your anguished cries. The finality of the act left you in stunned silence, your body trembling as you remained huddled on the floor, the gravity of what had just occurred sinking in.

“No... you didn’t...” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your eyes were fixed on the lifeless form of Kaito, disbelief and anguish washing over you.

Dazai’s sigh was heavy with disappointment as he shook his head slowly. “I’m disappointed in you, my love,” he said, his voice carrying a cold edge. “You couldn’t take control of your life this time. You think I’m the one hurting you? They’re the ones who’ve been hurting you all along.”

His gaze was unwavering, a mixture of pity and resolve in his eyes as he stepped closer. “I did this to protect you from them, to ensure that you’re never vulnerable again. It’s always been about keeping you safe from those who would harm you. I did what was necessary to shield you from your past.”

You shook your head violently, the world around you spinning as you scrambled to your feet. Adrenaline surged through your veins, propelling you to the door. You flung it open and sprinted down the hall, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Where are you going my love, please come back.” His footsteps pounded after you. “Don’t do this. I love you! This is meaningless—everything I did was to protect you!”

But you couldn’t bear to hear him anymore. “I want to stay away from you!” you screamed, your voice cracking with raw desperation.

You burst out of his penthouse and into the cold night air, the chill biting at your exposed skin. Your vision blurred with tears, making the city lights shimmer and swirl. You fumbled for your phone, dialing Chuuya’s number with trembling fingers.

The line rang a few times before a sleepy voice answered, muffled by grogginess. “Chuuya...” you gasped between breaths. “I—I'm leaving. I—will run away from here. He did it again, Chuuya.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by Chuuya’s urgent voice, now fully awake. “Where are you? Are you safe? Just stay on the line. I’m coming to get you.”

Your voice trembled as you spoke into the phone, trying to keep your words steady despite the panic swelling inside you. “Chuuya, no… don’t come. Please. I don’t want you to get into trouble. I’ll… I’ll manage to get away by myself.”

Chuuya’s voice was firm and insistent. “Don’t be stupid. I’m coming. Just tell me where you are.”

You forced yourself to keep moving, trying to steady your breath despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “Chuuya, listen to me,” you said, your voice shaking. “I just called to let you know. I need you to stay out of this. It’s too dangerous. I can’t risk you getting hurt because of me.”

“I don’t like this at all. You’re obviously not okay. I need to be there with you.” You could hear the sounds of him hurriedly getting dressed in the background.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya, but I can't-” you said firmly.

Before he could protest further, you ended the call, the sound of the disconnect echoing in the quiet of the night.

You made your way through the winding streets, heading towards a nondescript building nestled away from prying eyes. It had been your refuge years before, a place where you could escape the chaos and find peace in solitude. Now, it was the final sanctuary you turned to as you prepared to leave everything behind.

The old studio was just as you remembered it—dusty but comforting, filled with the quiet hum of memories. You approached the closet where you had stored a suitcase, its worn exterior a testament to its many years of service. You opened it, the familiar smell of old leather and fabric greeting you.

With calculated movements, you began packing the clothes you’d kept from simpler times—soft sweaters, faded jeans, and a few cherished pieces that held fragments of your past. Each item you folded and placed into the suitcase carried a piece of who you used to be, the person you were before the mafia and before Dazai.

As you worked, the thought of leaving Dazai behind gnawed at you, filling you with an intense, suffocating agony. Despite everything he had done, the idea of severing ties with him was a painful wrenching of the heart. Yet, the realization that staying would only bring more torment drove you to continue, each movement of packing a silent affirmation of your resolve.

You zipped up the suitcase, the sound of the closure echoing in the empty room. The decision to leave the city and all its shadows behind was a heavy one, but necessary. With a final glance around the studio, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the journey ahead. The train would take you far from this place, and despite the heartache, you knew it was the only way forward.

Before you could make another move, a voice cut through the silence of the studio. "My love, are you leaving me?" The words were laced with a deep sadness, sending a jolts all over your body.

You spun around, disbelief etched across your face. "How did you find me?" you demanded, your voice trembling.

Dazai stood in the doorway with a hurt expression written all over his face.

He stepped closer sighing, "The bracelet,” he said quietly, holding up your wrist to reveal the piece of jewelry you had thought was a mere token of affection given to you two years ago. “It has a tracker embedded in it. I had it activated in case you were ever in danger.”

The weight of his words hit you like a physical blow. The realization that he had been monitoring you all along, even in your attempts to escape, left you reeling. You stared at him, your resolve faltering but your heart aching with an overwhelming confusion.

“Why did you have to follow me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

He took another step closer, his gaze pleading. “Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I know you're probably thinking that I’m just some insane man who’s only hurting you. But you have to understand, my actions come from a place of deep love. I need you to see past the madness and understand how much you mean to me.”

"Is this how you show love, Dazai? By trapping me and manipulating me?" you said, your voice trembling. "You don't get to decide what's best for me by controlling every aspect of my life."

Dazai's expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I’m twisted and flawed, but I thought... I thought that if I could keep you close, I could protect you from everything else. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head, the finality of your decision settling in. “You’ve hurt me more than you know. I can’t stay here. I can't stay anxious, wondering who you’ll force me to kill next.”

Dazai’s eyes grew darker, his voice tainted with desperation. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. Everything I did was to keep you safe in comtrol of your own life, even if it means making terrible choices.”

You scoffed, “Safe? You forced me to kill my ex! And then Kaito?”

Dazai’s face tightened. “He was a traitor. He manipulated you all this time. I told you.”

“Even if!” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think I wanted them dead? I never wanted any of this! You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is turning my life into a nightmare, forcing me to make impossible choices.”

He reached out, but you flinched away. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I know I’ve gone too far. I only wanted to protect you, but I see now that I’ve lost sight of what’s right.”

The realization hit you hard. “Lost sight of what’s right? You’ve lost sight of everything that matters. I’m leaving, Dazai. I can’t stay here any longer.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with pain, that you've never seen before, “Please, don’t go. I’ll do anything to make this right. Just... stay and let me fix this.”

You shook your head, “It’s too late. I can’t trust you anymore. I need to get away from this life, from you. Goodbye, Dazai.”

Turning around you held the suitcase tightly, your hand shaking as you reached for the door. Just as you were about to open it, the sharp click of a gun safety being disengaged froze you in place.

You turned slowly, your eyes widening in horror as you saw Dazai standing there. The cold, manipulative mafia boss you had come to fear and loathe was now a broken man, his usual confident demeanor shattered. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat of his desperate resolve.

The gun was pressed against his temple, his hand trembling slightly. His gaze was locked onto you, the anguish in his eyes more raw than you’d ever seen. The sight was a gut-wrenching contrast to the man you had known—this was not the calculating Dazai but a man at the edge of his sanity, driven to an extreme.

“Don’t... don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. “Dazai, put the gun down.”

His tears fell faster, “If you leave, I can’t bear it. I’d rather end it all than live with the fact that I lost you.”

You took a step toward him, the suitcase slipping from your grip as fear and heartbreak twisted inside you. “Dazai, please. Put the gun down. We can figure this out.”

His voice trembled, a fragile whisper on the brink of breaking. “I never valued life until you entered mine. If you choose to leave, then I too must follow.”

You rushed towards him, heart pounding with desperation. As you approached, you gently took the gun from his trembling hand, lowering it to the floor. His body crumpled, and he collapsed into your embrace, clutching you tightly as if afraid you might vanish.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you whispered soothingly, your own voice trembling as you tried to calm him. You stroked his brunet soft hair gently, your heart aching as you held him close. “It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll figure this out together.”

His sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven as he clung to you. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I'm sorry.”

You continued to soothe him, the weight of his despair pressing heavily on your chest. You could see through his anguish, past the facade of his calculated mind to the raw, broken man beneath. Even as his twisted personality had driven him to force your hand, there was no denying the genuine love he felt—a love that, despite its darkness, was deeply real.

The room, dim and cold, was filled with the sound of his muffled sobs, each breath a testament to his remorse and anguish. You held him tightly, trying to offer comfort, though your own heart ached with uncertainty. You knew too well the manipulative games he played, but in this moment, you could see the truth in him. His despair was not a ploy, but a genuine expression of his torment and love.

Gently, you reached up and removed the soaked bandage from his eye. His gaze locked onto yours, filled with a sorrow so profound it was almost unbearable. His face was etched with the pain of his past actions, and as you held him, you admired his beautiful brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw and fragile. “I’ll never do this again. I promise. I never wanted to hurt you. I was desperate, and I let my own twisted mind control me. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do everything to make this right. Please... stay with me.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerable man who had been pushed to extremes. The cold dim room seemed to shrink around you, the shadows of his past mistakes lingering but overshadowed by his sincere apology. You took a deep breath, your own heart softening despite the pain.

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your voice was soothing him.

He nodded against your shoulder, his sobs gradually subsiding as he clung to you.

“Despite everything... despite your scheming and the cold, manipulative persona you put up, you have no idea how much I love you,” you whispered, the words heavy with the depth of your emotions.

Dazai’s eyes softened as he met your gaze, his voice trembling as he replied, “I love you too, my dear.”

With those words, he kissed you softly, his lips warm and tender against yours. The delicate caress of his kiss pulled you closer, making you surrender to the embrace he offered. In that fleeting moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the solace of his arms and the twisted love you shared.

➵Want more of Osamu Dazai ?

[chukys-mouthguard]

oscar winning tears

featuring -> quinn hughes x female reader

genre -> angst, fluff

summary-> inspired by ‘oscar winning tears’ by raye

note -> thinking of this becoming a mini series possibly? If anyone would be interested?

“You’re fucking joking, are you kidding me?”

Quinn’s shouting echoed off the walls of your shared bedroom as he halted his packing. The news caught him off guard as you sat on the bed, arms wrapped around your legs as you held them tight to your chest. Feeling awful for what you’d told him, but you had no choice.

“I wish I was Quinn, but I just got the call an hour ago. I have no choice!”

Quinn let out a snarky laugh as he resumed packing his suitcase, shaking his head as he moved about the room.

“You do have a choice, you’ve had a choice since the day you met me y/n. This is going to be one of the biggest nights of my career, and you’re canceling on me for a meeting?”

“Yes Quinn, a meeting that happens to be one of the biggest in my career! Look, I’m sorry that I refuse to be some stay at home WAG that cooks and cleans the house all day while you’re the one off making money and having a career. But I just don’t understand why you can’t support me in my career like I support you?”

Quinn scoffed as he zipped the suitcase shut, “yeah, some supportive girlfriend you are! I gotta go.”

Pulling his bag from the bed he grabbed his wallet and phone from his dresser as he headed downstairs, his ride waiting to take him to the airport. You knew that it was best to let him go, when fights like this happened it was better to end it once one of you walked away. But you were less stubborn as Quinn, you hated the idea of walking away from one another after saying something hateful. Especially when one of you is about to get on a plane for several hours.

“Quinn, wait!”

Hurrying down the stairs you tried your best to stop him, but he was already loading his things into the car. As he closed the trunk he looked to you, as if waiting for whatever it was you had to say.

“I love you, I’m so proud of you.”

He made his way to the side of the car, climbing in, he didn’t say anything back. Your heart sinking in your chest, though you told yourself it’s just Quinn being Quinn. The sound of the window rolling down stopped you from heading back into the house, a stern look on Quinn’s face as he spoke, “Call you when I land,” and with that he was gone.

-

Quinn was nervous, you could tell by his body language as his fingers picked at the arm of the couch he was seated on. Impatiently awaiting the announcement this entire night centered around for him. How you wished you could have been there. To hold his hand and keep him calm, to reassure him that whether he won or lost you still loved him and were so incredibly proud of him. But alas work had other plans, and you were left to watch from home on the couch with the rest of the world.

“And the winner of the James Norris Memorial Trophy is…”

You could feel your heart in your throat as you crossed your fingers, praying that his name would be called. The calm look on his face was simply a facade as you knew Quinn was probably laced with anxiety inside. His brothers beside him surely were doing the same as you, rooting for him as they always did.

“From the Vancouver Canucks, Quinn Hughes!”

“Yes!”

Your cheers echoed throughout the house as you jumped off the couch, clapping and cheering as you watched Quinn take the stage. You knew it was nothing to get emotional over, but you couldn’t help but shed a tear. Only a few people knew how hard he worked behind closed doors. What he went through day in and day out to be one of the top defenseman in the NHL. And now he could truly say, he was the top defenseman.

Thinking back to the argument the two of you had a few days ago, you started to question if Quinn was right. Despite always telling yourself that you wouldn’t give up your career for the typical WAG stay at home lifestyle, you were thinking of all the moments you could potentially be missing.

Though the NHL awards weren’t the biggest night in Quinn’s career, next it could be the Stanley Cup Final you’d be missing. And simply the idea of missing such a night for Quinn, you couldn’t imagine it. Though Quinn tries to respect your desire for your own career, you know he keeps a lot of his thoughts to himself. But after the last argument, you knew that it was getting harder and harder for him to keep those quiet.

-

“Baby?”

You heard Quinn’s voice echo throughout the house, followed by the sound of him setting down his bags. Quickly you hurried to put the finishing touches on your surprise dinner, the last step being to pour some of his favorite wine.

Just as you’d replaced the cork and set the bottle down Quinn turned the corner, a soft smile on his face as he looked over the candlelit dinner you’d prepared. He let out a sigh as he walked over to you, arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close.

Taking in the scent of your perfume he loved so much, his hand tracing up and down your back as he took his time appreciating your body in his embrace. Making sure you knew how much he missed you as he pulled back to steal a kiss from you.

“Hi.”

“Hi babe.”

You smiled up at him, slightly giggling as you could see how well you pulled off your surprise by the look on his face. He helped you into your seat at the dining table before taking his own.

“So, what is all this about?”

His eyes scanned the table as you took your glass in hand, holding it out for him to cheers you.

“Like you have to ask Mr. Norris Trophy Winner!”

He rolled his eyes embarrassed as he raised his glass, then pulled it to his lips to take a sip.

“Yeah yeah, I know you didn’t do all of this just for me winning that trophy babe.”

His tone caught you a bit off guard, though appreciative it also seemed laced with sarcasm and assumption.

“Really Quinn? Why can’t I do something nice for you? I mean, you want me to be this stay at home type. Cooking dinner, having the house clean for you when you come home. This is what you want right? And now I’m being criticized for it.”

Quinn immediately regretted his comments, not meaning them to come across the way they did. He just wasn’t used to surprise dinners from you, with work usually holding you up at the office and dinner not a common occurrence, Quinn couldn’t help but feel there was more to the act than just a simple dinner. But he certainly didn’t mean to accuse you of buttering him up.

“I’m sorry, honest. I didn’t mean, I just. You’re right, you aren’t this type of girl to surprise me with dinner on the table. And I didn’t think me winning that trophy was enough reason to become that type of girl. So, for that I am sorry.”

He took your hand in his as you tried to let your frustrations subside, not noticing the tears in your eyes until Quinn reached out to wipe one away.

“I’m sorry Quinn.”

“You’re sorry? For what babe?”

Trying to laugh off your emotions, you simply wiped your tears as you served some salad onto Quinn’s plate.

“I just, I thought about that argument we had. And I think that maybe you’re right. Maybe I should consider giving up my job. I’d be able to do things like this more, come to more games, be at award ceremonies and sit next to you and support you. I can’t do that now, and you deserve so much more than that. So I’m sorry, but I’ll figure something out and try to be better.”

Quinn grabbed your wrist and stopped your anxious serving of food, taking the tongs and bowl of salad from you. Setting them down on the table with a sigh as he could tell how much the argument affected you.

“Baby, please. I love you just the way you are. You don’t need to be better, you’re perfect. I’m a dick for ever telling you that your career isn’t important, or for making you think you needed to give that up for me. Would it be nice to have you around more? Of course! But I don’t want you to sacrifice all of that for me, this should be a compromise. And I can let my emotions or frustrations relax a bit when it comes to your schedule. It’s not like the extra stress on you is at all necessary, work puts you through the ringer as it is.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you tried your best to take what Quinn said as facts, but you knew deep down he hated your work schedule. He hated how often you missed games, or how many nights you spent late at the office missing the opportunity for dinner with him at home. Despite him telling you that your career wasn’t an issue, you couldn’t help but feel like he’d be better off with a typical WAG that stuck to social media or was something more flexible like an influencer.

“Quinn, I hear you, I do. But, maybe you’re just trying to justify things. I know you’d prefer it to be different, and, I’m willing to sacrifice because I love you and I-“

“Don’t you have a big work event coming up?”

“What?”

The question caught you off guard, work wasn’t something Quinn ever asked much about, so you weren’t sure how to respond.

“There’s like a big party or something coming up?”

“Oh, yeah, our company gala. It’s basically to recognize the success of the company over the last year and stuff. Why?”

“You’re being recognized right?”

Quinn laughed at your confused stare, wondering why you thought him being interested in your work was so wrong.

“Can I go?”

“Y-you wanna go?”

“Of course! I don’t think I’ve ever been able to go before, and I wanna support you just as you do for me! I promise I’ll prove to you that you don’t have to be some stay at home trophy WAG for me, okay?”

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SEVEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @h34rtsformilli @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l (sorry about these ones that didn’t work ☹️) @yassedsblog @jissy22 @blank-blank80 @brynslverr @melinaaa3 @alex-1347 @lolbods @girlypop05

kalena speakss 🪽! this is a filler chapter, everything starts to ramp up and get more messy (as if it isn’t already) starting next chapter ;)

June 2025 — New York City, New York

“Don’t even bring that up, oh my God.” Rickea laughs, reaching one of her long arms over to slap at my knee.

Rickea, Cameron, and I sit soundly in the green room, makeup placed deliberately on our faces. We played the Liberty last night, in a game with an outcome I would rather forget than talk about.

But today, after the team hopped on the first charter back to LA, we had a date with GQ. They called it The Teammates Quiz, and we were given the honor of being the first women’s sports team with the opportunity. I thought it was a cool idea, a game that I would certainly win because I know my teammates well.

However, it seems like these two know me just as well because they are airing my business out to everybody in this room right now. Well, maybe not all of it, but close enough. 

“Kea, you fell on your face in the middle of downtown LA. I’m with P, I’m so bringing it up.” Cameron laughs.

“I was drunk!”

“You were more sober than P. And she drinks like a man going through a divorce.” I instantly pull back from my makeup artist, looking over at my teammate incredulously.

“I do not!” I attempt to defend. “You two insisted on buying drinks after the draft, not me.”

Cameron, who’s seconds away from bursting out in tears of laughter, speaks up through her ragged breaths. “You got so drunk you were making out with random girls in the club.”

“Least I ain’t fall on concrete in the middle of LA.” I laugh, sitting back in my seat and allowing Joanna to get back to doing my makeup. I let her and Brittany take control of my look, they know best after all. 

You would think with the way the three of us all talk to each other that our on court chemistry is terrible, but it’s the complete opposite. Probably why GQ asked us to do this little segment today. I cut my attention back to my teammates when Rickea’s voice cuts through the air again.

“Have you talked to Raye lately?”

The way she asks it seems skeptical. Like she knows something, or is suspicious of something and I can’t pick up why. We’ve been keeping our friendship pretty cordial— at least to our friends and in public.

Maybe Maraye told her about the kiss. Maybe Maraye told her literally nothing, and Rickea is just trying to pry as she does often.

“Uh yeah, we hung out a few nights ago.” I respond, so lucky that Joanne is angling my head in the opposite direction, successfully hiding my growing red face from my teammates. “She’s pretty cool.”

Which isn’t a lie, we did hang out a few nights ago. Only my lips start tingling whenever I think about it. I swear I can taste her still on them all these hours later; like a mix of every single dessert on the planet. So damn sweet. I wonder if she always tasted like that, or if she tasted different elsewhere. 

And yes, Maraye is pretty cool. Pretty funny, pretty smart, pretty talented, pretty. So fucking pretty.

I’m realizing now that three days has been too damn long. To see her damn near everyday, then not at all for a week, then again in which I end up with my tongue down her throat. To not have been within inches of her for 72 fucking hours has me going just a bit crazy.

“I didn’t know y’all were hanging out.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that.” I fire back too quickly. It makes it seem defensive, and it’s not. I have nothing to hide. 

Well yeah I do, but I think I’m pretty good at hiding it.

“Paige.” Cam says, cutting into the conversation awkwardly. “Please don’t tell me you did something stupid.”

I slouch back in my seat and Brittany, who I swore just magically spawned behind me, slaps my shoulder telling me to sit up. “I didn’t! You guys can’t ever just trust me.” I laugh.

“‘Cause you get caught doing stupid shit!” Rickea explains.

“Caught?”

“Caught? Again?”

“You haven’t seen twitter?”

Those four words always make my heart beat out of my chest. The internet is cool when it comes to me, out of pocket sure, but cool. But on the off occasion that they aren’t, it’s because they are either making shitty posts about what i’m doing on the court, writing think pieces, or minding my business rather than their own. I’m assuming, in context to Maraye, that it’s the latter.

“The fuck happened this time.” I ask with a huff. The first time, I had gotten too comfortable at the club. Which was admittedly my own drunken fault. The second time I was trending because people swore up and down I was making goo-goo eyes at Taylor Rooks. Which I was, she’s absolutely unreal. And now here we are.

Cameron is the one who looks first, and by the look of her face I assume it’s pretty telling. Rickea hands me her phone. I take it, slightly shaking and I don’t know why. 

My eyes are stuck to the screen, and it’s four pictures. I’m not sure who took them, but Maraye has reached A-list status and I forget the Paps are everywhere when it comes to her. 

The first is us leaving the bar in Atlanta. Maraye’s head isn’t in the shot, she’s busy hopping into the backseat of our uber, but mine is. It’s very obviously me, my signature braids down the side of my face rather than in the usual ponytail. My hand is stuck comfortably in the pocket of my zip up while the other holds the door open for her.

The second photo is from when we’re seated at Waffle house. I’m showing all 32 while Maraye talks, and it makes us look like a fucking couple. Her arms rest on the table, head slightly tilted. From the angle, again, you can’t see all her face but her side profile is obvious. Anyone could point it out and recognize her.

But it’s the last two that make us look the most guilty. My arm draped over her shoulder is very incriminating. She held her pink lemonade flavored slushee in her hand, looking up at me. One more swipe and I’m looking at myself paying for those two slushee’s. It doesn’t help that my jacket from earlier that night is now zipped up over her body. 

‘Paige Bueckers and Maraye Carter in atl this weekend 😲’  Reads the tweet. It’s messy, even more when I scroll further and see people putting pieces together. The replies are full of videos from opening night, screenshots of my recent activity in her instagram likes, and of course, of course, someone had to have seen me in my seat at her concert.

It looks bad. I would say worse than it is, but it all doesn’t even scratch the surface. 

“We just friends.” I mumble, I wouldn’t be surprised if my nose grew a centimeter or two. “Y’know how people get.”

I hand Rickea her phone back. She’s the one I should be scared off, Cameron has been done with my relationship issues since I first met her as kids. But Kea? After the talk about leaving Maraye alone, and how I know better, and how I don’t need to get hurt. I’m terrified that I’m about to get caught.

“Has she seen these?”

“Ion know.” She responded. “Probably. But If you two are jus’ friends’, then don’t sweat it. Hollywood moves fast.”

Really fast. 

—

June 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

“You’re literally a fan, shut up.” I joke at the blonde sitting besides me.

She’s messily scarfing down her chipotle bowl as we sit in her car. The windows are tinted nicely and my album shuffles through her speakers, even though she swears up and down that she didn’t add it to her library.

“Am not.”

“Yeah yeah, pinocchio.”

It’s my first time seeing her since the night in my condo, and it’s awkward. Which is weird because Paige and I have never been awkward together. Everything was always smooth, fluid, when it came to her. But now I don’t know what to say.

I blame it on the kiss.

It should’ve never happened. She knows that, I know that. Even then I don’t regret it. 

I’ve never in my life had feelings for a woman before, until now. And it’s so weird because I think I still have feelings for Julian too. It’s not the same thing though. Julian is perfect for me. Good job, family man, tall, handsome, the most gorgeous and perfect curly hair I’ve ever seen. Then there’s Paige, and she just might be perfect for me too. Work oriented, funny, insanely smart even though I tell her she’s not. 

So I sit silent in her passenger seat, not a clue in the world of what I should say to her. She makes me nervous, she makes the bottom of my stomach twist up whenever I look at her and see those beautiful blue eyes. I shouldn’t feel that way, I know that. But damn does she make it hard.

���Maraye?”

“Yeah?”

Paige chuckles, reaching over to wipe a bit of Vinaigrette from my lip. “I said ‘you good?’”

I nod and my head moves slightly away from her reach. “Yeah. Why?” I ask, taking a generous bit from my burrito.

“Because you’re sittin’ there all quiet.” She explains. “I know we kissed and all that but I ain’t think you would stop bein’ cool around me.” She says in an attempt to ease the atmosphere, the obvious tension that bounces off walls.

“It’s not that.” I mumble.

She puts the lid on her bowl, reaching towards the back seat to drop the trash in the brown chipotle bag. When she turns back to face me, I get a great look at her for the first time all night. Her hair is in a messy bun, strands slightly framing her face.

“Then what is it, Raye?” Paige slouches in the seat. “‘Cause don’t get me wrong, I feel some typa way about you but we’re friends first—”

“I wanna kiss you again.” I blurt out. It’s word vomit, like I can’t help but tell her how badly I want her lips on mine and her tongue in my mouth. Hands on my waist, my ass, in my hair. 

She laughs, and I pray to God she’s not laughing at me. “That’s why you can’t talk to me anymore?”

“I wanna kiss you, but I know how wrong that is. I have a boyfriend, and everyone already thinks something is going on here.” My finger gestures between the both of us.

“You saw the pictures?” Paige cuts me off. Her hand slips forward to grab her phone.

“Did you?”

“Kea showed me them yesterday.”

We sit in silence. I’m trying to process her response. 

“Did, uh, did Julian see them?” She asks.

Shit. Julian. It seems like I’m constantly forgetting about him whenever I’m with her. Always. I’m such a fucking asshole. 

“No, I-I didn’t show him. I don’t think I needed to.” I explain through my stutter. He didn’t need to see them. One, because it wasn’t anything serious. The photos made Paige and I look bad, sure, but there was nothing to worry about. It would only make me and him argue, and we do enough of that already.

“Good.” She nods. “He probably shouldn’t anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know I really wanna kiss you too.” Paige says. I thought that was it. The kiss happened once, and we were back to being friends. Being normal.

“Paige—”

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

“P, quit it.”

“I keep thinking about how you taste. Like all day. And I shouldn’t, I know that, but you make it fuckin’ impossible.” The blonde sighs. Her eyes fall shut like it’s painful, painful to not kiss me. 

I shake my head, hoping that it’s enough for her to stop talking about it. “Paige, you and I are friends. That’s it. I have a boyfriend, and you’re not a home wrecker. We aren’t doing that again.”

She goes quiet. Then her eyes open and she turns back towards the wheel. It’s 10:30 at night and she has a game in the morning. Paige’s hips raise slightly to fix her sweatpants. A pulse races through me when it happens. 

“You understand? We can’t.” I ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, just friends.” Paige says.

I want to believe her. I really do. But the look in her eyes tells me I shouldn’t. Those blue orbs I know so well are suddenly a deep color, pupils wide. She slightly bites the corner of her lip, staring at me like I could run away.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I push at her shoulder, a chuckle escaping my lips. “I’m serious. No kissing, no flirting. I’m not a cheater, P. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know, I know. I won’t.” She responds. “But if it happens?” Paige leans into me again. Her hand flicking a curl away from my face before playing with it. She stares at me with intensity.

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I’m not apologizing for it.”

And then she pulls back, sitting in her seat and pulling her seatbelt over her body. She turns the engine on without even a second thought.

I sit there speechless, burrito growing cold between my hands. And I know, without a doubt, no matter how badly I want to hold out and follow through on my promise.

Paige is dangerous, and I don’t think I have it in me.

She’s gonna win. Again.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Messy Breakups and Messier Bedsheets

Cassian x reader

For Day 5 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — Mating Bites: Chomp Chomp <3

a/n: Blame Escapism by Raye for this one

warnings: biting; smut; angst; some fluff

synopsis: When Cassian notices a fracture in your and Azriel’s relationship, he can’t help the hope that sparks. And when—almost a year later—his brother comes for him for relationship help, yet again he can’t help giving advice to his own benefit. Splitting you apart for good.

word count: 4,917

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“…what?”

The world is coming down around you, debris and shrapnel raining down from fire-filled skies, clouds of ash billowing far above, stinging your eyes as bile burns your throat.

In front of you Azriel sits with his eyes lowered and his throat rolls before looking back. “I’m sorry for hurting you.” Lies. “But you’re strong. You’ll manage.” Lies. “I know you are.” Lies.

“You’re just saying that… Tell me what’s wrong.” Your voice comes out inappropriately calm, nowhere near matching the raging tempest that’s cleaving through your heart, slowly but surely splitting it into tiny pieces, stretching the muscle until it’s unbinding from itself, cramping and aching from the pain.

A muscle works in his jaw, forcing himself to watch as heat wets your eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Your throat tightens. It’s painful to swallow. “This is coming out of nowhere. Things have been rough maybe, but…” You shake your head, a tear dripping from below your chin down onto the satin of your dress. “It hasn’t been that bad, has it?”

“It’s not bad,” he tries, looking at you imploringly. “But it’s not-…” Azriel breaks off, casting his gaze elsewhere as he searches for the words. Hazel eyes find you again, “You deserve better-”

“Don’t.” Your voice breaks, the fractures growing deeper as they find your surface, cleaving apart in spite of your attempts to keep yourself together. “Don’t- Don’t use that excuse. I love you.”

Pain glimmers in his eyes before it’s pushed away with a hard blink of his lids. “You deserve someone who loves you back.”

————

One Hour Earlier

“I don’t know what to do,” Azriel confesses.

His right hand is resting on his head, scarred fingers threaded through black hair. His left hand is loosely grasping a small glass of heavily diluted whiskey. If he’s really going to do this, he needs to be entirely sober.

Cassian shoves his weight back into the chair besides Azriel, throwing his boots up on the table and crossing them at the ankle. “Cheer up. These things happen,” Cassian assures, wings knocking twice with Azriel’s in a sign of comfort.

“Falling out of love with someone you thought you were going to marry?” Azriel murmurs, head still hung, staring at the tinge of liquor in his crystal glass. Beside him Cassian stiffens, leather rustling as he folds his arms over his chest, “And how long have you been…out of love with her?”

Large, leathery wings lift and fall in a shrug, the male not looking up.

Cassian’s jaw works, watching his brother closely. The general can see he’s hurting, but…

“Can you pretend?” He asks.

Azriel pauses, then sits upright for the first time since Cassian’s been in the kitchen. “What?”

“Can you fake it?” Cassian repeats. “Can you convince her you still love her?” Azriel shakes his head, glancing back to his watery whiskey. “She’d see right through it.”

“Sounds like you have your answer then.”

Hazel meets hazel, Azriel’s brows narrowed over defensive irises. “It’s not that simple. I still…” He releases a heavy sigh, one that deflates his entire chest, slumping back into the chair. “I’m not blind, Cassian. She’s the best I’ll ever have.”

“So you’ll drag her down with you?”

Cassian’s features are sternly set when Azriel turns his head to stare at his brother. Azriel’s jaw works, molars grinding together before he tears his eyes away to return to the diluted glass. “I can get better,” he murmurs, but they’re just words.

“You don’t just get better, Az.” The Spymaster doesn’t want to listen. “Are you going to make her wait until you’re ready and stable? Until you’ve found a way to make time for her?”

“I make time for her,’’ Azriel counters, his tone low and sharp.

“Mhmm. When did you last take her out?”

“Last week.”

“And before that?”

“Will you get off my back?” Azriel snarls, his hand slamming down on the table top. “This is as good as it’s going to get for me, Cass. She is the best I’ll ever have.”

“And what about her, huh? Are you the best for her?”

Azriel narrows his eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Cassian swallows, realising he misspoke. But he’s said it now.

Cassian’s jaw works, looking away once before returning to an icy gaze, “Do you think you’re good for her?” A beat passes.

“Where’s this coming from, Cass?”

“Stop deflecting.” There’s ice in his voice and fire in his eyes. “Do you think you’re good for her?”

Silence.

The General exhales lightly but his body remains tightly locked. “Not being good for her doesn’t make you bad, Az. You’re just…maybe not the best pairing.”

“I’m trying.” He grits out.

“It’s not good enough, Az.” Cassian murmurs. “Let her go.”

————

The kohl is so thick you can almost see it bunching in your lashes, forming heavy clumps that obscure minuscule parts of your vision but you don’t care. You want to forget him. Want to tear him from your memory and regurgitate his tender touches into the Sidra to be washed away, but the thought of leaving any of him behind causes your heart to split. Moving his things out, one toothbrush in the bathroom, no tea-stained mugs in your cupboard, no waking up in the early hours of the morning when your body senses his presence despite his complete silent.

Sleeping in a bed triple your size. Sleeping without the sturdy presence of heat at your back. Sleeping without the weight of a wing draped over your side like an extra cover.

The glass hits the wooden table of the bar, ice clinking against the crystal encasing it, having not been allowed the time to chill or dilute the liquor before it was flung to the back of your throat. They’re expensive little drinks, and though you’re hurting you can’t quite bring yourself to put them on Azriel’s tab. It’s not his fault he stopped loving you.

A small bowl of salted biscuits is pushed your way, and you look up to find the bartender offering you a sympathetic look. Your lower lip wobbles but you offer a grateful nod of your head, nibbling the edge of one to at least absorb some of the alcohol in your stomach. He offers a brief smile, then he’s whisking himself away to the other end of the bar, called by someone else who’s probably having a much better evening than you are.

You startle when a rough palm cups your shoulder, patting twice before a large, male body slides into place besides you. Hazel eyes, looming figure, Illyrian wings.

“You look miserable,” Cassian muses, bracing his forearms on the table top. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek, jaw working. “Did Azriel ask you to come?”

“Azriel?” He asks, catching the bartender’s eye, succinctly ordering a drink. “Did something happen?” You release a derisive scoff, standing abruptly from your chair and grabbing your purse. “Fuck off, Cassian.”

The General’s broad palm wraps carefully around your upper arm, and you spin around seething, only to be met with an apologetic expression on his sincere features. “I’m sorry,” he eases, “I wanted to see if you were okay. Alright?” You try to jerk out of his hold but alphas have always been stronger than omegas, and he’d be a powerhouse even without that aiding him. He gives you an imploring look, urging you to speak with him before slowly releasing his hold on you, allowing you to leave if you want.

Your jaw works, clutching your purse tight as if debating smacking it across his shoulder for trying to lie to you. But, “so you know? That he broke up with me?” Cassian nods his head, and you swallow harshly. The lighting and music, the sweat and pheromones…it’s getting a bit much for your state. “Do you know why?” You ask, slowly sliding back into your seat, cradling the bowl of crackers to your chest. He makes a vague shrugging gesture in response and you grit your teeth. “If you know something, tell me.”

“What reason did he give you?” Cassian asks, making a hurt sound when you harshly swat his hand away from your crackers—perhaps with a little more force than you should have. Your throat rolls, watching with interest as the bartender delivers Cassian’s drink—something you don’t recognise but it has a leaf in. You turn back to your salted biscuits. “He said he doesn’t love me anymore.”

Silence hangs between you, stringed instruments plucking away in the background, the jingling tap of a tambourine making infrequent appearances along with the fluttering tune of a flute.

“So…you came here?” You shoot him a simmering glare and he exposes his palms in earnest. “It just doesn’t seem like your type of scene,” he reasons. “Drinking, staying out late, dancing…? Sure, but not when you’re-”

“Hating everything and everyone?” You suggest dryly, not looking at him.

“Alone.”

You huff sharply. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. But why are you here? Wouldn’t you rather be with someone right now?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You seethe, standing so suddenly the stool screeches back. “Just fuck off, Cassian. Take your little report and scamper back to Azriel.”

Then you’re striding for the exit, the night air cold and stark against your somewhat dewy skin. Footsteps follow after you but you barrel ahead, heels clicking relentlessly over the slick cobbles. You know he’s trailing you when he doesn’t catch up—with his height it would take little effort to match you, especially with the added encumbrance of your heels. It’s only when you reach your door that he approaches you again, probably trying to give you some time to cool off.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Cassian starts with while you’re fitting your keys into the door, kicking off your heels as soon as you’re inside, tossing your purse onto the entry table. The front door clicks shut behind you, but he’s quietly followed you inside. “Just tell me if you’re okay…if you’ll be okay tonight.”

You spin around on bare feet, “Do I look okay to you?” Tears had escaped on the way back and you’re certain the kohl will have smudged by now. Even without the tear stains charcoaled in it would be easy to tell you’re a mess. “Do I look fine, Cassian?”

Without your heels on he’s much taller. Especially between the narrow walls and low ceiling of your hallway.

“We were together for five years. And he ends it all in one night. Out of nowhere.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, skin heating with the rush of blood from adrenalised sadness. “Of course I’m not fucking okay.”

“I know it’s difficult, but don’t you think it might be better this way? For both of you?”

“How could it be better?” You spit. “I loved him. I still-” You cut yourself off, lip wobbling as more tears spill and you have to hide your face. “You weren’t compatible,” Cassian says softly, boots appearing at the top of your vision, your head hung. “Lifestyle, routine, free time…” Calloused palms tentatively skim across your shoulders, before they’re wrapping around your back, pulling you closer. “You can’t force love, sweetheart.” His palms rub up and down your spine. “I’m sorry.”

His touch feels good…warm. The broad strength of him securely wrapping you up, encompassing your body. Keeping you stable and secure within his hold.

You allow your arms to wrap around his back, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. His scent is familiar as it invades your senses, inhaled into your lungs and sweeping throughout your bloodstream. Perhaps it’s just instinct—because he’s an alpha, and you’re an omega searching for company—but he’s soothing. Calming the erratic beat of miserable thoughts, the firm strokes of his palm over your back letting warmth reenter to your body, some of the darkness skittering away, ice thawing and melting.

You push deeper into him, treasuring the comfort. How good it feels to have some kind of company that’s listening and caring. Just the physical presence of someone. The comfort of a strong, male body. The heft of his well-muscled arms and the self-contained power that’s confined to his body. The scent that alerts you to his secondary sex as an alpha. Like Azriel. Big, Strong, and Illyrian.

“Sweetheart?”

Cassian’s voice draws you from your thoughts but you keep your face pressed to his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. After a beat his palm moves to the crown of your head, stroking gently. “You’re probably tired and worn out by now,” he tells you in a soft tone you haven’t heard before. “We can speak in the morning. Why don’t you get some rest for the night?”

Almost instinctively your grip tightens on him, keeping him from potentially pulling away. The fabric of your dress is pretty sheer, and you aren’t wearing a bra… He won’t be bothered by it, you’re sure.

You breathe his scent deeper into your lungs, sighing. It could be Azriel you’re holding. Could be Azriel who has his arms wrapped around you. Your fingers graze higher out of habit, brushing the base of his wings how you once did for Az whenever he was on edge. Just a light touch would be soothing, tender and intimate. Instead it has Cassian’s breath hitching, muscle going taut beneath your hold.

“Sweetheart?” Azriel would be calling you pretty thing. Azriel would be cupping your cheek and tilting your jaw to nose at your neck. Azriel doesn’t want you anymore.

You pull back enough to look up at him, tender hazel eyes watching warily, his hands having paused their strokes. Your lips part.

Cassian swallows, palms settling on your shoulders. “Bedtime?”

Instinct is urging you. You’re used to having an alpha to fall back on at the end of the day. Used to crawling into bed to nestle against an alpha’s side. Used to feeling an alpha’s teeth scratching against your throat.

Azriel used to bite deep.

Your fingers tighten in the back of Cassian’s shirt, and you’re pushing closer to him, gripping him tighter and dragging on the fabric as if it’ll pull him lower. The General blinks, taking a step back but you go with him, keeping him within your hold. You incline your chin to look at him directly and his hands lift from your body, the thick column of his throat rolling as a faint heat colours his cheeks. You push up onto your tiptoes…if you were wearing your heels this would be easier.

“What are you doing?” He asks. He’s breathless and his temperature is rising. You can hear the quickened beat of his pulse. See the dilation of his pupils. You lick your lips. “Lean down,” you murmur, staring at him intently. Cassian swallows again and you swear you gain a deeper awareness of his scent. The heat and strength of him. How he would feel on top of you, keeping you to his body, hidden away from the hurt of the world.

“What for?” He asks, less than a murmur. Softer than a whisper. “Come here and find out,” you reply. When he remains still a seed of frustration takes root in your chest, and you step forward, watching him intently for a beat more before you’re laying the bare fronts of your feet atop the hard curve of his boots.

Hazel eyes widen marginally as you gain those extra inches, hands moving from his back to lace over his shoulders, all done so painfully slowly. Fingers slide up his nape, tangling in the dark, clean hair he keeps tied back. You arch and stretch, body straining with feline grace as you reach for him, inclining your chin as you exert pressure to pull him down. His eyes glaze, and then a familiarly broad palm is sliding around the curve of your spine, reaching all the way around until he’s clasping your hip from behind. His other hand cups your ribs, sliding to lift up between your shoulder blades.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

A huff of breath fans across your lips, then his body is wrapping around you, laced with strain, muscles tense as fingers tremble up the knuckles of your spine. Hot lips meet your own and his hold incrementally tightens on you, squeezing your hip, lifting to your waist, squeezing harder. It’s perfect—warm and safe and familiar. You trust him, you know him. It’s going to be okay tonight.

You pull away, keeping your body flush to his and your eyes lock. Both of you are flushed, heat radiating and swelling between you, then he’s stepping forward as if to kiss you again. You lose your footing, having been balanced on the tips of his boots, and you half-stumble, half-crash into the wall, knocking your purse from the side table. Cassian’s mouth descends over your own, the hand on your ribs snaking up to cup the side of your neck where a set of bite marks lie, thumb skimming across your jaw as his lips repeatedly push against your own, teeth nipping at your lower lip and tugging.

Cassian’s tongue flickers out, swiping across your lip once before dipping into your mouth, tilting your head for a better angle and a moan bubbles up from somewhere in your chest. A sound almost like a deep groan rises in response and you feel as your body begins to instinctively melt beneath the touch of an alpha. A familiar syrup liquefying in your veins, turning you favourably soft and deliciously pliable.

You pull away again, hormones and lust addling your mind. All you can think about is you have an alpha again. He’s big, and strong, and hungry for you. And you aren’t far from your bed.

“Follow me,” you breathe, before wrapping your hand partially around his wrist, tugging him with you as you swiftly ascend the staircase, dragging him firmly down the hallway and shoving open your bedroom door. Cassian seems to be just as on board with this as you are because as soon as that door clicks shut hands are biting into your hips and spinning you around, pushing you up against that very same door and kissing you with starving ferocity. Palms slide over the curve of your ass, squeezing your thighs and handling you up his body while his mouth is still attached to yours. Your legs lock instinctively around his hips, spine curving to press the swell of your breasts into the hard muscles of his chest, cupping his jaw between your hands as you kiss him back, nails scraping through his hair, pulling locks from their bindings.

You grip onto him tighter when he pulls you away from the door, walking you over to the bed and dropping you into the plush mattress. The scent of the sheets puffs up, filling your lungs, infusing the air around you and- It’s Azriel. Beneath the cleaner, and your own scent, he’s there. Still clinging to the fibres of your sheets, and emotion - emotion ugly and furious, vicious and ravenous for pain - rears, searching, searching, for-

“Take that dress off.” The order rips you from your thoughts, and your hands are gripping the hem of the skirting, pulling up, up, up over your thighs, your hips, your waist, your breasts. Your hair is a mess by the time it’s off and you’re left in a mismatching set of underwear but Cassian’s looking at you like you’re wrapped in fine silk or black lace and thoughts of any other male, of any other alpha swiftly melt away.

“Take your clothes off,” you breathe, carefully moving back on the bed. He obeys, fingers making swift work of the ties holding the slats together, shucking the shirt off and tossing it to the floor. “Trousers, too,” you demand breathlessly, settling comfortable in the collection of pillows at the head of the bed. Cassian growls but works free the ties of his leathers, tugging them from his legs then following you up onto the mattress.

“Any more orders you want to give me?” He growls, pupils dilated, his arms caging you in as they land either side of you. “Kiss me,” you demand, “kiss me right n-mmph!” His mouth crashes down and you spine arches up into him as his calloused palm rasps up your stomach, pushing one strap of your bra down your shoulder. Teeth and tongue and lips swirl and flurry, biting and nipping and licking while your knees part beneath him.

Two pinpoints in your neck ache, spiking with a needling pain and a light sweat breaks across your skin as you instinctively crane your neck to direct him. He follows without complaint, trailing small nips and licks down your jaw, down the length of your throat, sucking and biting at spots he finds pleasing. A low growl resounds in his chest, heavy and strained but you don’t have time to think about what might be causing such a territorial noise.

“Cassian,” you pant, legs curving around his hips. You lightly lift yourself from the bed and he’s hard, so hard against your clothed sex, hard and ready and you need him right now. You buck against him eagerly, aching to feel him, to really feel him in whatever way you can. He takes his cue seamlessly, pulling away to drag your underwear from your body while you unclasp your bra, both items of clothing hurled somewhere onto your floor.

Cassian’s palm wraps around your ankle and the next thing you know he’s throwing your leg over his shoulder and lowering himself between your legs. You cry out when he licks his way up your centre, groaning like it’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you and this—this is what you need. The orgasm follows quickly enough for how riled you are but he’s still not inside and you need him to be inside. Need him in every way you can, to banish something from your body and memory and skin.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Cassian orders you, his skin hot and flush and his pupils wide and full. “Sweetheart?”

“I’ll tell,” you repeat, not acknowledging his words. Just the name. Sweetheart.

It sounds good.

“Arms around me,” he instructs gruffly and you follow his command, arms lifting up and around his shoulders, fingers playing with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His head glides through you easily, coating himself in the slippery wetness that’s been worked up between your thighs, his tip bumping your clit before dragging almost teasingly down to your entrance. You whine, tilting your hips upward in attempt to have him enter but he holds firm.

Hazel eyes find yours and your heartbeat stutters. “Are you sure about this?” He whispers atop your mouth, “You want to do this?”

“Yes. I’m certain.”

“With me? You’re sure you want to-”

“Anyone would do. Now please, Cassian,” you beg, cupping his cheeks between your palms. You can scent his arousal, the scent of an alpha and gods does it feel good to be wrapped in him. So good you miss the flicker of pain in his hazel eyes. They dance away once before returning to you, but anguish is overridden by emotion as he pushes his hips forward.

Your mouth parts and he likes that you look at him, that you let him see the pleasure he’s giving you as he fills you up. His heart is pounding and he can feel you around him. It’s messy, the situation you’ve found yourself in, pinned beneath the weight of your ex-lover’s brother, the General of the Night Court’s armies, and…Cassian. He’s Cassian.

“Say it again,” you pant, cradling his head in your hands, “Call me your sweetheart.” Cassian’s hips buck but he obeys. “Sweetheart.”

“Again. Move. Again.” He draws his hips back then pushes in again, sliding deeper than before, inching himself further and further into your wet heat, cursing as he goes. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re perfect.” You moan at the praise, beginning to feel weightless. He repeats the motion, beginning to set a pace. It’s slow, and deep, and he’s touching spots you like despite having never searched for them before.

“Cassian,” you call, likening the flavour of his name on your tongue. “Cassian…” His cock rubs against that spot and you feel that itch beginning to rise. You tilt your head to the side, wanting him to wipe away those marks in your throat. It’s considered foul, whorish, to be bitten by anyone other than…a mate. Your eyes shut tight with pain. You’d thought he’d be…

“Eyes open sweetheart,” Cassian breathes, “You’re here with me.”

You follow his order. “I’m here with you,” you repeat.

“You’re feelin’ good?”

“Feeling so good, Cass.”

“Then that’s all I can ask for.” His hips find yours again, thrusts slowing to a precise drag, sliding in and out with aim and intention. “My perfect sweetheart.”

You need comfort. Need his presence. Need him to feel permanent.

Cassian stiffens as you bare your throat, chin tipping to the side to make room for him.

“Bite me.” Along your throat lie two scar marks, discoloured and narrow, but he knows who they must belong to.

“I can’t.”

You blink, turning your head to look up at him. “What?”

“I’m not biting you.”

Your lips part in confusion. “I want you to, Cassian. It’s my choice.”

“And I’m choosing not to bite you.” He shakes his head. “Not like this.”

Your eyes narrow. “Then like what?”

“With a mate.”

You flush, and all at once the situation dawns on you with fresh clarity. A wound bathed in salt and medicinal alcohol. “Bite me.”

“No.”

You stare up at him helplessly, nails digging into the muscles of his back, his wings flaring above the both of you, blacking out the ceiling and the scene is so familiar it physically hurts. “Cassian please. I’m asking you to. Bite me.”

“I’m not biting you.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Am I ruined, Cassian?”

Cassian freezes, staring down at you with widened eyes. Then he manages to shake his head. “You’re not ruined.” He shakes his head again, as if he can’t understand the question. “You’re-” But he cuts himself off before he can finish.

Your lower lip wobbles, breathing becoming irregular and shallow, stuttering inhales passing between your lips. Your hands slide away from the nape of his neck. “I want to stop.”

“You want…?”

“Stop.”

Cassian stares down at you, feeling your touch recede. Feeling you pull away. He pulls away too, easing out of you. “Sweetheart?” He tries, but—

“I’m not your sweetheart.”

His heart fractures, and he pulls back more. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” Fingers run through his hair—you’d taken it down at some point and now it’s free and tickling the tops of his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have…fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I wanted it.”

“But I should have-”

“Cassian stop. Just stop. I chose this. Stop trying to-” You give a harsh sigh, a mix of pain and frustration and it tugs on his already stretched-thin heart strings. You’re sitting upright, knees curled to your chest with your back to the headboard. “I chose this…”

He watches, lost for words. Is there anything he can even say in this position? Is there any sequence of words, of actions to help you feel better. To wrap you in the warmth and affection he so desperately wants to give you. His throat rolls. “I don’t want to leave you tonight.”

You shoot him a cold look. “I don’t want to have sex.”

“I’m not looking for sex,” he replies softly. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Cassian tries to hold himself together as your eyes run over him analytically, weighing your options, making your decisions. Will you deem him enough?

“You’re fine without…?” You hedge, still watching him with an edge of frost. He forces the corners of his lips to curve, to put a gentle expression on his face, “How long have we been friends?” You don’t smile like he’d hoped, but some of that ice thaws. Then you nod your head, a vulnerable glint in your eyes, “I’d like for you to stay.” Cassian thinks he’s misheard at first, but then you continue. “I…thank you,” you whisper, looking away from him. Wiping a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry for making this so messy.”

You swallow thickly, then manage to meet his gaze again. “Would you mind just lying with me? Just for the night, and you can go first thing in the morning. I’d just-”

“I’ll stay with you,” he reassures, and there’s just something about his tone that makes you believe him wholeheartedly. He’s going to stay, and he won’t mind. You aren’t being a pain.

You’re not going to cry.

You nod your head, pushing back the sheets with your feet and pulling back the duvet for him.

His heat is a welcomed bonus of his company, and while a small distance is kept between your bodies you keep close to him. You can face this mess in the morning, and he’ll still be by your side when the sun rises.

You just know it.

But you’ve been wrong before.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 - 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 🪩 ❞ - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: most of the social media post made throughout the miami gp weekend!

warning: twitter environment (you know the deal), cussing.

saint’s team radio: hi everyone! just wanted to give y’all a little something something before releasing ‘break my soul’ ! i’m a bit sick rn but i will get back into my groove very very soon 🤭

dividers by: @cafekitsune

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽

taglist: @queenshikongo3 @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @lorarri @goldenalbon @yeea-nah @non-stop-imagines (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

-

twitter

instagram

nadiahamilton

liked by lilymhe, badgalriri and 1,383,994 others

nadiahamilton yes i know where he keeps his music and no, i won’t be telling you where 🫶🏽

view comments

nadiahamilton it was sooo nice meeting you guys this weekend 🥹

pinned by author

user i swear you’re his lucky charm

fransisca.cgomes mother ‼️

alexandrasaintmleux and if i ask for your hand in marriage?

nadiahamilton let’s run away

user i fell in love everytime you appeared on screen

user her energy is so refreshing, even if it’s through a tv or phone 😭

user where do you get your clothes???

nadiahamilton i’ll make a highlight for all the stores i shop at 🫶🏽

herstudent i hope school’s open soon, we need the tea!!

nadiahamilton you’ll be getting the pamphlets for the medieval times instead 😚

user his arm…dear lord

nadiahamilton i know, can’t believe it’s wrapped around me rn 🥹

user13 no way she just said that????

yungfilly bestie takin over miami!!

chunkz i think this is where you’re wrong brotha 🤨

niko you’re right, i’m the bestie

nellarose_ YOU’RE ALL WRONG 🤣

nataliatheedon and if i smack your ass, i’m wrong 😔

nadiahamilton bc it really hurt plus you were running behind me????

mercedesamgf1 Mrs Mercedes 🤍

user lewis is washed, never going to get that 8th

nadiahamilton watch your mouth 🙏🏽

lilymhe tinkerbell 🥹

liked by nadiahamilton

user is this a inside joke???? a fun nickname??? we need to know!

sza do you think your man will have a problem if i take you away?

nadiahamilton when and where? 🤭

lewishamilton ???????

hater ad21 was deserved 🤣

nadiahamilton i know where you live 🫶🏽

hater as if

nadiahamilton Glendale right??

hater oh shit

user now how tf did she find that man’s address 😭

user don’t question her mastery 🗣️

lewishamilton my angel 🤍

nadiahamilton my superstar 💗

lewishamilton

liked by bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 3,383,929 others

lewishamilton miami, you’ve been good 🙏🏽

view all comments

nadiahamilton steal my captions why don’t you 🙄

lewishamilton it’s my job 😋

user blonde is so her colour

raye you both are so lovely 🤍

lewishamilton thank you Raye and btw, she’s crying because of this

nadiahamilton DON’T TELL HER OMG????

spinzbeatsinc king and queen of england

nadiahamilton do you want me to get deported??

user just accept your fate guys

user now i need to know if he speaks any south african languages

nadiahamilton he tries to but he says it in a british accent so i end up laughing at him

user mr, does this mean you’re the class dad?

lewishamilton i guess so?

herstudent YEAHHH OUR DAD’S SIR LEWIS HAMILTON!!!

user her face should be trademarked

user how many cars do you think they own together?

f1wags what a woman!

user petition for Nadia to be team principal!

mercedesamgf1 we back this 🫡

hater her tattoos were everywhere and stole the attention off Lewis! She’s so ugly

nadiahamilton never that 🙏🏽

user did you guys see that drake reposted her post?

user wasn’t he friends with lewis at some point???

zendaya see you guys soon 🫶🏽

racerbia mother and father

nadiahamilton my man is so fine y’all damn

user SHE’S SO REAL FOR THIS

nadiahamilton like he looks so delectable, my goat fr 🤭

lewishamilton nads 😧

f1 mother of the paddock ‼️

nadiahamilton pls not while Susie is right there ☹️

badgalriri i hope you do know there’s a group of us planning to take her

iamcardib heard she’s a stylist, need one rn

kehlani i second this !

latto777 if she ever needs flowers, i got her ‼️

nadiahamilton y’all 🥹

lewishamilton can you guys stop planning to take my wife away from me?

user idk, something’s fishy

user yeah bc where the fuck did she come from?

text messages !

♡‧₊ billionaire boys club

miles the fencer 🤺: no way they’re stealing your wife from you in broad daylight?

pookie buddy lewis: pls don’t chat, it’s hurting my spirit rn

princess natalia: let’s talk about nads meeting pharrell (also i’m a genius for naming this gc after his company)

daniel is spinning: her face was just like 😧

nadia: 🧍🏽‍♀️

personal pillow amara: but nads, genuinely, how do you feel after this weekend? it was a big one for you bae

nadia: i do feel like ripping the earth in half and falling in but it’s cool because lew gets me ice cream after 🤭

pookie buddy lewis: i always got your back, nads. you know that. we’ll get ice cream whenever you want

miles the fencer 🤺: GET A FUCKING ROOM OMG

princess natalia: EWWWWW

charlotte (not tilbury): don’t listen to them, this is the cutest shit ever 😭

andrew with the camera: but if i expose miles’ 0.5x photos, i’m wrong.

daniel is spinning: DRAG HIMMMM

personal pillow amara: i’ve taught you way too much danny

miles the fencer 🤺: man whatever 🙄

charlotte (not tilbury): nads, i HAVE to see you in malibu

nadia: ofc, i don’t know what to expect from that place

princess natalia: don’t worry bae, we got you!

ೃ° 

The Avengers (niko made this)

chunkz: nads, who’s this boy you’re chatting to? 🤨

filly felipe: “this boy” and it’s lewis hamilton 🤣

sharks: AND they’re married????

nadia: and i was going to invite you lot to my new place and show you my new car but ig you don’t want to

harry (pinero) potter: BOYS TAKE IT BACK

aj shabeeeeel: i personally never said anything 🙏🏽

niko: you know i’ve always loved f1, nads

nella loml: lying on a public platform, niko??

nadia: you lot are too funny i can’t 😭

nadia: but yeah, wanted to know when you guys are available so that you guys can meet him officially

fiily felipe: welcoming our brother in law aww 🥹

king kenny: how about we chat about the marriage??

nadia: how about no? 🫶🏽

chunkz: i’m just happy something so special is happening to you, nads. you deserve it

nella loml: it’s been a tough ride and already it’s looking so up for you bae

nadia: you guys wanna make me cry on a monday morning 🫵🏽

sharks: always the plan 🫡

niko: to make her cry????

sharks: 😐

king kenny: pls come back to London asap, Cench has been calling us up for a vid ever since the last two 😔

nadia: leave me out of that one, i have a husband 🖐🏽

chunkz: YOU TELL THEM NADS

filly felipe: nadia thandeka hamilton, it has SUCH a nice ring to it 😭

aj shabeeeel: and you guys look so leng together, already my brother in law 🫡

harry (pinero) potter: better get home quick for that debrief!

saint’s team radio (once again!): hope you guys enjoyed this one! it’s got a little touch of how nadia interacts with people she knows and people she doesn’t, our social butterfly 🥹

we finally have a ship name for our favs ‘Lewdia’ coined by @mauvecherie-writes!

i’ve got a few more smaus ready but yeah, love you guys loads! 💗

[persephone11110]

rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’Seresin x Reader

Chapter 6: “Memento Mori”

Chapter Summary: “I wish we had more time together”, you whisper to Gina after finding out Jake luck had ran out.

Warnings: jake wakes up but he dies—pallative coma, major character death , astraphobia, thunderstorms, exes-> almost lovers, hurt/comfort, past pregnancy, blood, traumatic birth- jake came out not breathing , past child abuse, spousal abuse, brief mention of alcoholism, past cardiac arrest- chpt5, jake can’t speak but he can move alittle— does it make sense? no but the plot needs it

A/n: LAST CHAPTER!!, special thanks to everyone who been alonside this journey and thank you to everyone who likes, reblogs and comments, the title is latin for: remember you must die.

Previous

Series Masterlist

WC: 2K

—

You never got the chance to hear him say it back.

Its quiet and dark in here, the only sound to hear is coming from the ventilator, a machine that’s keeping the man you love alive, and his sheer will. The light is dim in here, you and Gina agreed -Jake didn’t needed to be subjected to such a bright light in his last hours.

Gina was out in the hallway on the phone with someone you couldn’t tell who it was, only making out few of the muffled words-“You don’t even deserve a chance too see him, but i’m giving you one”. You were sitting at his bedside, you gently grabs his hand into yours- feeling the light tremble.

You started humming a song you and Jake used to sing together. Stroking your hand over his face, wiping away a escaping tear,“Its going to be okay Jake”. How are you supposed to reassure a dying man— who’s in unimaginable pain?

Jake trys to speak again like he did earlier but his throat hurt so much. He even struggles to open his mouth- a raspy rough cough escapes his mouth, and your lean over gently shush him and quickly lifting the oxygen mask back over his mouth. “M’sorry I know it hurts but you need that okay”.

What could’ve you done to deserve this?, what did you do to be on the receiving end of something like this?

As a nurse you’ve spent countless hours sitting at the bedsides of dying patients, reassuring them- giving them pain meds— calling family members. Its a routine for you at this point. Yet sitting the beside of Jake Seresin is different— you can’t fathom the idea of the losing the man you loved.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Gina and a nurse. Since both Doctor Hayden and Doctor Young told both of you that Jake wasn’t going to make it, there been a nurse administrating morphine every couple hours to reduce his pain to little to nothing and give him comfort. “Hi buddy”, Gina says, raking her hand through Jakes hair. “Nurse Raye here again”.

“Hi Jake” Nurse Raye says as she walks towards him pole, pulling on a pair of gloves, she gently picks up the Jakes arm grabbing the arm with IV in it. “You ready Jake?”, Jake nodded as best as he can, “Here you go sweetheart get some sleep”. She pushed the needle into his vein, grabbing a cloth wiping away the blood. “Your good sweetheart”. She disposes the morphine bottle in the trashcan along with her gloves.

Leaving three you alone in silence. You get up from your chair pulling Gina into a tight side hug after noticing her tight smile and tears glimmering at her eyes. “Its okay Gina”. You attempt to give her a confident smile despite your face being covered tears trying to be strong for her. The woman next to you is losing her son. Everything you say whether its the best words known to man or not will never get rid of the pain of a parent having to bury their child. Knowing she’ll be visiting his grave instead of the other way around— watching her son waste away slowly, knowing he won’t be awake the next morning.

“Its not okay Y/n!” Gina snaps pulling herself out of the hug, “I’m losing my baby…” her hands on each side of her waist, “Oh I’m losing him”, Gina voice began to break, the anger fading away. She wept loudly, your hesitant to touch her, not wanting to invade her space. But she pulls you into hug herself, her face smushing into your shoulder.

“I know Gina, I’m sorry I can’t do anything”. You two are rocking back and forth,“I’m so sorry”. You sound like broken record, because what can you say?

What did you say to the woman who’s losing her son?

A couple of minutes goes by before either one of you say anything. “Y’know sweetheart Jake would have our heads if we sat here cried till we couldn’t anymore”. Gina pulled her head from your neck, wiping away her falling tears. “Why don’t you get some rest sweetheart, you came straight for work”. Giving you a small smile, “Go on dear”.

You sink into the chair behind, grabbing the blanket Gina hands you. You feel her press a kiss into your forehead as your eyes close.

“Buddy-” Gina voice gets caught in her throat she takes a deep breath, running her hand through Jakes hair. She has to be brave for not only herself but for him.

Clenched jaw throbbing with pain, she attempts swallow the balls of tears forming in the middle of her throat. “Jake if its your time to go, I hope you know me and Y/n we’ll be just fine”. She says with a strangled voice, “Go see Grandma Lou”. Gina trys her damn hardest to not betray how sad she is, wanting to Jake not feel bad for letting go.

She hasn’t been this scared since Jake’s birth.

But she remembers every detail, how many nurses were encouraging her to push, it takes a little longer for her baby to cry, a little longer for the doctor to place him down onto her chest. She doesn’t get the chance to feel him squrim all over her chest, hear his loud cry. But she does hear them roll her baby away, no one saying anything to her, no ones comforting her. She just lays there alone in a dark room, waiting and watching for a doctor, a nurse-someone to give her back her son.

Something told her Jake’s birth wouldn’t be easy.

She remembers someone walking into her room with a baby bundled in a little blue blanket, his face a little red, a tiny scratch across his cheek— probaby from the forceps. Shes pretty sure she and Jake aren’t even supposed to be in the same room right now, she sure the doctor took pity on her, probably getting tired of her loud wails— begging anybody to bring back her baby, dead or alive.

She remembers rubbing her finger over his face, as he wailed at sudden movement, she remembers how red he looked, how tiny and delicate he looked. How scared she was to hold the baby she carried for nine months straight.

How in the hell was she supposed to raise a baby in the environment she lives in now?

The bastard won’t help her, even if she was on her last breathe. He’s to busy drinking his damn liver away to give a damn, thats why she decided to give Jake her last name, the only thing he can’t have.

Jacob Lee Seresin, rolls of the tongue to easily.

She wished she could’ve turn the clock back and left the day she brought Jake home. She wished it didn’t take Mama Lou threatening to take her son away for good, she wished it didn’t take for Jake to be sixteen for her to decide to leave. She can’t kiss or hug the pain away. She can only just sit there and wait.

Gina sighs again,this is the second time she tried getting John to come here. She’s standing outside her son hospital room in hallway arguing with a man who hasn’t been in their lives for nearly twenty years. Yet here she was giving him a chance to say goodbye to his son, extending him the invitation hoping he accept it.

Your slumber was cut short as a familar rumbling sound echoed through the room. Sitting up from the chair- pulling the blanket off of you, you eyed a the man sleeping infront of you watching his chest slowly rise. Walking towards the window next to his bed you began to stare at the angry clouds, not paying attention to Jake attempts to get your attention. You didn’t even realize he was awake in the first place.

Biting at your lips, your stomach in knots.

Your so busy worrying about outside that you don’t hear Ginas voice. “Hon you okay?”. She’s standing in the doorway with a worried look on her face, attempting to assure her that there no reason to be worried, feeling guilty for worrying her in the first place. You give her a small smile in return, hoping she drops it. Gina nods her head at your response, deep down she knows what wrong but right now she knows this isn’t the time to push and prod at you.

Pushing your fear of storms aside, you focus on Jake noticing the machine next to him. Realizing his numbers aren’t climbing back up like usual. You tell Gina to be prepared to say her final goodbyes as you recognized the signs— Jake getting ready leave.

Jake vital signs are getting lower.

Gina sitting at his bedside, doctors and nurses have been in and out his room for the last couple of hours- a nurse told you it shouldn’t be long now. She tells the two of you to make Jake last hours of being alive comfortable. You spend over an hour talking to the daggers, trying your best to comfort them as the storm brewing outside is preventing them from leaving the base. Each one of them have a chance to say their goodbyes— reminding him to save a spot for them, for later.

“Sweetheart why don’t you get up there with him?”. Gina asks you, “You both need it”. She gives you a look, her eyes red and veiny, she pushes the railing down on his bed. Shes not taking no for an answer—“Honey go on and lay down with him, just be careful”. Your hesitant to get up there with him, but it would feel good to touch him for the last time.

Giving her a teary smile, you move from your spot at his bedside, crawling onto the bed you lay on his right. Maneuvering yourself around the bed you managed to lay your head on his chest. He tries lift hand his up to your face, Jakes blurry vision stops him from finding your face.

You lift his trembling hand to your face. Gina had been holding his other hand tightly. A nurse was standing near the machine, but you decided to soley focus on Jake instead.

The machine starts a steady beep thats getting longer and longer.

You were curled up aganist his chest, laying your head into the crook of his neck, you’d been humming his favorite song to him, Girl of my dreams. “Just rest sweetheart”, you whispered into his chest. You gently pick his hand up holding it into yours, you can feel light tremble as you hold them.

“Don’t be scared Jake, I bet Grandma Lou waiting on you”. Gina whispers squeezing his hand tighter. You don’t take your eyes off of Jake, watching his eyes close— you listen to his rattling breathing slowly come to an end.

The beeping stops, the signal of his life coming to an end, you can feel his heartbeat slowing down in your ear, the thumping sounds getting less and less.

“Goodnight sweetheart”. You pressed a kiss into the crown of his forehead.

“Its nice to see you again sweetheart”, she smiles at Jake, pointing at her cheek and Jake bends down to give her a kiss. “I’ve been waiting for you ever since our last talk”-she whispers into his ear.

Taglist: @chocolatefartstrawberry, @buckysteveloki-me, @dontletthemtakeyoualive, @classyunknownlover, @els-marvelvsp, @i-am-mrsreckless, @cinderellasmissingshoes

[cloveroctobers]

black mascara — EZ REYES

A|N: in honor of the season 5 trailer, I had to write a little something. This one will actually be small since I don’t have too much to go off of in writing this but I can’t lie and say I’m not a little fired up! So get comfy.

GIF BELONGS to: @dailymayans

·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆·

“See that crave for power…that’s seeping through your pores is exactly what’s gonna get you killed, Ezekiel.”

“…if that happens to be the case, I hope they know their prayers well because I’ll still be here from beyond the grave.”

She did not know this person that she sat face to face with. She didn’t even know what that statement means. Majority of the time Hadiza kept out of The Mayans business, despite the fact that her older brother Franky interacted with them from time to time. She knew Ezekiel way before he decided to join the club and although she’s seen the Mayans around town, she didn’t have much of a opinion when the man first brought the idea to the table a week before his release.

Now she wished she would have.

Back then she trusted that Ez knew what he was doing.

This Ezekiel was not the man she used to know.

Hadiza had a feeling this would happen, that as soon as Ezekiel got into the president’s chair, a whole new level of danger would be unleashed. She saw the shift in Ezekiel throughout his time in the charter happen gradually, that her worries started to keep her up at night. The lack of sleep even proposed her to talk to Felipe about it, who simply listened and still had faith in his baby boy until Gabby came around.

Which was kinda foul the longer she thought about it. Was her word really not good enough when she’s been around? She’ll have to take that up with Felipe at a later time, respectfully.

She’s known Ezekiel since high school…it’s been years since they stepped into their adulthood. However a good portion of Ezekiel’s youth was ripped away from him the night his mother died.

Yes people change…but not like this.

Hadiza was beginning to think that a piece of Ezekiel died with his mother that day but what could she say about him now? So much has happened since then and He wasn’t the same—sure it was foolish to think that he would be completely healed from that tragedy but the light in his pretty honey eyes, did not reflect what was beyond them or what was on the outside.

“So that’s it then,” she raised her shoulders, “you’re gonna waste your life away for reckless shit? You’re better than this Ezekiel.”

“What do you exactly expect me to do? This is the duty that I’ve strived for. And you’re looking at me as if we didn’t know it would always end up being this way. I know you didn’t think this shit was rainbows and daisies, you’re much smarter than gabby in that sense.” Ezekiel bit, yanking a cigarette from his pocket.

Hadiza shook her head, “speaking ill of the dead…somebody that you killed and claimed to love like she was just nothing to you. I’m not feeling this. Or you.”

“There’s the door, fucking use it,” Ezekiel flared his nostrils as he pointed at the exit, “you’re the one who came here trying to preach to me what I’ve already heard. And what I’ve told myself before back when I was weak. What? you thought shit was gonna change because it’s coming from you? I’ve got to be smarter than that, especially when it comes to the club and nothing you can say to me right now…matters.”

“Then what does, motherfucker?!” She was on her feet now, “greed? Selfishness? No wait. I got it, your ego.”

The man lifted his shoulders, not needing to say anything more or seemed to be the least bit phased by the irritation that was showing in his long-time friend’s frame.

“Going after the sons—

“I don’t want to hear it.” Ez glared, “I’ve seen enough wars to not fear a damn thing. Don’t you ever question: Where does fear get you, diza? Look in the mirror. Everybody pays a price with the cards they’ve been dealt.”

The woman chewed down on her bottom lip in annoyance, “and just how much are you willing to lose?”

“That’s something I’ve got to reflect on in my own time…but you’re here.” Ezekiel kept his eyes trained on the woman, puffing on his cigarette.

Before Hadiza could lose the courage she said, “Fuck your subliminal and fuck you.”

“We’ve already done that, remember? With Sofia watching in the background. I think the message then was very clear and something you should thank me for.”

That was so low and disrespectful, considering that Hadiza had a moment and went to someone who she thought cared about her well-being. At that time she just received the news that her fiancé wanted to break off the engagement after cheating on her with a co-worker and the first person she went to was Ezekiel. He was the first person she thought about and felt complete with—a mistake on her end, sure but she wasn’t expecting him to have company other than Sally.

The smirk that was on his lips was smacked right off by her hand. However that did not stop Ez from yanking on her wrist and getting into her face.

Anyone was fair game at this point.

This she knew deep down.

He could end it all, right here in this trailer.

What made her any different?

Did he even love her anymore? Or was she just another ploy in the way Ezekiel floated around life now? Hadiza was not part of the club so why was she becoming collateral damage?

“You don’t get to come here and think our friendship and reminiscing about the old times, or guilt trip me about Gabby, would stop me or save me from myself. That’s not your job, never was amor. Sorry I couldn’t live in your fantasy of being a good ol’ friend to you anymore. But that’s life, so either continue standing by and keep your mouth shut or take a walk and don’t look back.” Ezekiel gritted into her face and that hurt more than him squeezing her wrist.

The black ink dripped down her brown cheeks as she hissed, “you’re done to me.”

And this she hoped she meant. She couldn’t stick around and she knew Ezekiel was pushing her to do so but ultimately it was her choice. Her eyes stung from the makeup as she clenched them closed, fighting away the memories of their teenage years: watching Ezekiel love Emily, having intense debates over literature in class and outside of, him being there for her first heartbreak and attempting to get angel to drive him to the asshole who broke her heart house to egg it and piss on their front doorstep, to Marisol Reyes encouraging her to keep loving her son the best way that she knew how…

“Good,” Ezekiel breathed into her face, shoving her fist back down her by her sides.

He broke eye contact after awhile since she no longer had any words for him. He placed the cigarette back to his lips as he slouched back on the couch. Hadiza swiped the mascara from the bags underneath her eyes, deeply inhaling and battled with herself on what to do or say.

The words fell empty just like the relationship she once had with the man she called her best friend.

She sniffed as she snatched up her bag, making sure she had her keys before she took her exit. The door to the trailer opened on her way, revealing Sofia who easily picked up on the tension in the home. Her dark eyes shifted between the pair but Hadiza patiently waited for the wavy haired woman to get out of her way.

Ez pressed his elbows into his knees as he grunted, “What is it, Sofia?”

If Hadiza continued to be foolish she would have tried to believe that the tone of his voice was telling her something, besides him being an asshole. That perhaps he didn’t truly want their friendship to end but that’s the difference between the two, she didn’t have to be selfish.

“Um, you’ve some company. Bishop and Tranq are outside.” Sofia informed as she stepped into the trailer with Sally.

Ez quickly got to his feet, putting his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and brushed his shoulder by Hadiza as he left the trailer. Sofia easily picked up on the woman taking a sharp breath at his actions but didn’t speak on it.

It didn’t take the most intelligent person to understand that something transpired between the two. Their relationship didn’t threaten what she had with EZ and in a way, Sofia actually thought it was beautiful. How their relationship didn’t appear to be transactional or circumstantial. How simply being next to each other was enough for them. Or it used to be. Yet Sofia wasn’t naïve to think that it would last with the new propositions EZ took on.

Sometimes that’s just the way life worked out and the sooner Hadiza figured that out…maybe she could protect her heart a bit better.

It was a little awkward as Hadiza had to collect herself, hand on the trailer’s door before she went outside. Sofia wasn’t one for words and she wasn’t sure anything she could say would provide comfort for Hadiza either. After what happened right here in this trailer, weeks ago, it’s not like the two had the chance to really talk about it.

They didn’t have to but it seemed like Hadiza always had a lot on her mind.

Thankfully for Sofia, Hadiza pushed the door open, not sparing her a glance, either placing herself on autopilot or trying her best to ignore her presence—it didn’t bother Sofia one way or another as Hadiza left the home.

“See you around then,” Sofia muttered, taking a seat on the couch, after the door clicked shut behind Hadiza.

Her long legs kicked up the dirt as she passed by the group of men on the side. She couldn’t get away from the place fast enough, feeling her heart being squeezed with each step she took.

“Hey,” Tranq started to call out to the woman but it was almost as if she heard nothing while she shoved herself into her car.

Bishop’s eyes were back on EZ as his eyes briefly burned into Hadiza’s retreating form. He just knew the Reyes brother fucked that up and it’s a shame because he was fond of the girl, despite her having a connection to a pig. Of course he never fully trusted her (by no fault of her own) but she was kind enough whenever she rarely showed up to club.

He kept it silent but he knew his body language did enough talking for him as EZ focused back on him.

“Tonight is the night, round everybody up.” Ez ordered, stalking off and daring a glance at Hadiza’s car and over his shoulder as he stood on the steps of his trailer, while she backed off the lot and sped away, eyes solely on what was in front of her and not what was left behind in the rear view.

Ez swallows down the small lump that wants to form in his throat but that wasn’t important right now. He had other things to tend to and Hadiza was no longer one of them.

Instead of running back, she ran to her mother’s arms who was less than thrilled to see her baby this upset over a man who she trusted to be good to her child.

Later Hadiza found herself in her mother’s hands again when she received the devastating but expected news from Angel Reyes on her door step. She broke down in the doorway right in front of him and she knew the eldest brother couldn’t handle that amount of heartache that he also shared, despite him placing a kiss to the top of her head and leaving her with one of EZ’s dog tags, he left her with the woman who gave her life to deal with the weight of the lost on his own.

Hadiza then sent a letter to Felipe a couple of days before she decided to take her life elsewhere, away from all that Santo Padre showed her. She wasn’t sure if there would even be a funeral or memorial but she had to get out while she can still stand.

Antigua was always a place Hadiza wanted to visit and now she can say that she lives here comfortably.

She left her mother on the front deck to get them a refill of her famous rum punch that was leftover from her mother’s house party yesterday night. Hadiza was humming to herself in solitude until she heard her mother screaming out to her from outside.

The woman did not hesitate to race around the house with a bat, ready to fight off any Osprey’s that decided to invade their property again. Hadiza held her breath as she yanked open the door, eyes wild as she searched for her mother on the deck.

“What is it, ma?” Hadiza exhaled, seeing her mother sitting up on one of the wicker chairs.

Her mother nudged her chin towards the front and Hadiza cautiously took a step towards the railing. A few of her fingertips rested on the banister as she leaned over a bit, looking over at the new found community they both settled into. It was quiet as usual, air warm, seaweed scented, and fresh.

She wasn’t sure what had spooked her mother until her eyes settled down by the cars parked along the curb. Her eyes moved to the left a bit and she had to rub at one of them to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. It tended to do that the first couple of weeks she settled in the country. Lately she’s been okay. A figure stood by a identical golf cart (that they had in their driveway) that was parked right behind Hadiza’s car, fitted cap on their head as their hands held onto a mobile device.

Her throat went dry before she could even muster up and ask if she could help the person locate who they were searching for…because she knew it was him before those honey eyes looked up at her.

“Ezekiel.” She shuddered, feeling her mother get to her feet behind her, like the DJ Khalid meme, almost like she wasn’t still healing from the last Osprey attack two weeks ago.

Her mother also gripped onto the banister, “Oh hell no. I rebuke this demonic spirit, get away from here!”

And tossed the freshly watered plant at Ezekiel who side-stepped the assault.

“Hey, Mrs—it’s just me!”

“I know! Aren’t you supposed to be dead, you bastard?!” She yelled back.

Hadiza whispered at the woman, “Ma, please.”

The woman humphed, folding her arms as she waddled back to the chair, already aware how this would go.

Hadiza pointed the bat at Ezekiel, “wait right there.”

“Not if you’re gonna beat my ass.”

“I’ll think about it by time I get downstairs.”

Hadiza’s mother cackled at that, knowing she raised her baby with some sort of sense.

Hadiza couldn’t tell you how she felt but the brain fog was kicking in. She weeped over this man too many times just for him to be here in the flesh, like they all didn’t experience the hell he indulged in back in Santo Padre.

Her mother was right to think a demon was standing in front of their home. The anger Hadiza directed at EZ after receiving the news of his death was like no other emotion Hadiza’s had before but she found peace in Antigua.

She halted at the front door, noticing EZ fumbling with his fingers after the phone disappeared from his hold. Hadiza took her time going down the few front steps, crossing through the grass and down the slope to the gravel.

The man looked up at her approach, carefully reaching up to lift the cap from his head to mess around with the brim of the hat as Hadiza moved closer but almost not close enough.

His eyes immediately went to her head, noticing that the mountain of coarse hair that she had was long gone into a buzzed style now.

He smiled, “you finally did it huh? I know you’ve been eating ‘em up more than ever out here.”

And she couldn’t stand it, her eyes scanning the old yellowing of bruises and cuts on his face, puffing out a laugh at his compliment as she almost collapsed into his arms, bringing his body so tight to hers that he thought he would break her rib cage but he followed through with the same actions.

Her chin buried into his shoulder, one of his hands around the small of her back, and the other cradling the back of her head, he heard her sob against him and he couldn’t be more apologetic.

When they pulled apart, she held onto his face analyzing the marks on his skin before she inflicted her own attack on his lower half.

“Hey! Ow!” A good whack to the top of his head, made Ezekiel stop taking the hits as he gripped her wrists again.

Except this time was different, his touch was much more softer.

“I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry for filling your head up with doubts and making you believe that I didn’t give a shit about our friendship. When quite frankly—no pun intended, you’re the best got damn thing that’s been in my life.” His hands slipped into holding her hands into his own large ones.

And the way he was staring at Hadiza, let her know that this was the old Ezekiel she had missed. It was the spark in his eyes that made her feel safe, given what he got himself involved in.

He could see her mind spinning with questions, the corners of her eyes damp with tears.

“What did I say to you when we first became friends?”

“…’jalapeños on these nachos are missing and I make better ones than these whack ass ones you’re eating.’” Hadiza actually thought about this.

Which made a goofy grin appear on Ez’s face and he shook his head with a sigh, “yeah I think I did say that but after that? I said you’re stuck with me if you choose me. It would always be Kiel and Diza for life, remember?”

It was ironic that he wanted to think back when he basically was rude as hell to her about this in his trailer months ago. The bitterness was still in the pit of her stomach but the higher road wanted her to be happy that this man, her best friend, Ezekiel Lorenzo Reyes was very much still alive.

Hadiza wasn’t sure how the fuck he did it but here he was, wiping away her black mascara before holding her hands in his again.

A small smile appeared on her lips as she peered down at their hands, lifting their conjoined hands up to place her lips right on the back of his hands. Ezekiel let out a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding.

“For life.” She repeated, staring at him underneath her eyelashes.

He nodded his head, not breaking eye contact as she pulled the necklace from around her and placed it back on Ezekiel where it belonged. He glanced down at it, a new wave of emotions hitting him as he realized a piece of him was always with the one woman he deeply cared for.

“Let’s get inside.” Hadiza told him, as he leaned over to place a kiss to her full cheek.

She turned, her hand still resting in one of his hands as he reached for the fallen bat with the other, “think I might need this if I try to give your mom a hug.”

Hadiza laughed, “Baby steps, Kiel.”

“That’s fair.” He answers from behind her, letting her lead the way to her new home.

Perhaps now here in the Caribbean, they had the chance to create a better life, a better friendship together with no more black ink or blood spills blinding the way.

·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆ ·˚ ༘☄. *. ⋆·

Continue along with my anthology works that were written during the spring season here.

[melonsfantasyworld]

Escapism. Vol. 1

I'm starting a new series based on the song Escapism. by RAYE and 070 Shake, and each on-shot will be one interpretation of the song. This first one-shot is modern au Azris. Read the full fic here on ao3.

Fic Snippet:

“I can’t keep doing this.” Eris whispers. Azriel stays silent, his eyes roaming Eris’s face. “I can’t keep going to that house just for everyone you love to hate me and have to suck it up because the minute I say anything, I’m the villain.” Eris’s voice steadily raises, Azriel sitting up straighter at the sound.

“So what, you’re going to skip every family dinner from now on?” Azriel asks. Eris laughs derisively.

“Nothing to skip if I’m not here in the first place.” Eris feels a pang in his chest as he watches Azriel’s face drop.

“What?”

“You obviously don’t care enough to stand up to them for me. So why should I stick around and keep getting my heart broken?”

“No. Eris, let’s talk about this. Please.” Azriel begs, his tone much softer than before. Eris shakes his head, resolving to not let Azriel negotiate him out of this.

“There’s nothing to talk about. You promised they would make an effort and yet you always blame me when they refuse to be anything more than cordial. I’m done.” Eris puts his jacket back on and starts gathering anything of his he can see in Azriel’s apartment. Azriel rushes over to him, trying to stop him but Eris keeps pulling away.

“Please, Eris. Don’t leave. I can fix this.” Azriel begs, eyes starting to water. He finally captures Eris’s face, pressing a desperate kiss to his lips. Eris’s mouth reluctantly opens for a moment, letting Azriel in, but he rips away. His heart hurts, his head hurts, everything hurts. And he wants Azriel to hurt just as much.

“I don’t need this, and I don't need you.” Eris says.

[fourleaf-lorwolf]

Escapade

It was his palace, his kingdom; he could clearly see the peaks of the Skymaw towering above him. Yet at the same time it wasn’t his palace, because it was all in ruins. The young wolf padded softly through the ruins, his ears twitching in an attempt to hear something other than his own pawsteps. But there was nothing. The ruins were completely abandoned.. Or were they?

He whipped around, barely catching sight of a shadow disappearing around the corner. Who was that? For a moment he stood still, almost as if unsure of what to do. But he did know; he had done this many times before.

One pawstep, then another. He was out of the ruins. The wind whipped around him, snowflakes slicing under his thick fur like frozen claws. It wasn’t safe out in this storm, that was for sure. He turned around.

She stood there behind him, as if waiting. Her spotted pelt was barely visible through the swirling snow, but her emerald eyes seemed to glow brighter than the moon.

He could see the dark, horned shadow looming behind her. He could hear a voice. Was it his? He wasn't sure. There was a bright flash of light, and everything went dark.

“Prince Rayelin,” a sharp, commanding voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the world. “Answer the question.”

He coughed quietly, blinking the sharp sting of the incense from his eyes. “Yes. I, Prince Rayelin of Blizzardcrest, swear by Orrin’s Fangs to uphold the alliance.”

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Rayelin growled. He pulled off his cloak, throwing it in the corner with a frustrated sigh.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?”

“Kenta, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why don’t you just go to her?”

“Because I don't know where she is!” Rayelin snapped, glaring at the snowcat. “Because it’s not princely to go running off into the world looking for friendship!”

Kenta moved closer, curling their tail around the wolf. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Are you suggesting we run away?”

“What’s stopping us?”

“My parents are stopping us.”

‘I’ve always wanted to see the world beyond Icerun, you don't want to lead the pack… it’s the perfect plan, Raye. We carry out this dumb ceremony, and when we get to the mountains we slip away.”

“That can’t possibly work.”

“We’ll try it, okay? Besides, they need us. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Rayelin could think of plenty of things. But he couldn't bring himself to say them. There was no arguing with his companion.

“Moonrise tonight,” Kenta purred, padding softly toward the window. A moment later, they were gone.

Kenta was insane. Sneaking up here every day to keep him company was one thing, but suggesting that they run away? Rayelin shook his head. There was no way it would ever happen.

And yet, some part of him wondered if it really was too good to be true. He’d be the first in his bloodline to run from the crown. A prince giving up the diplomatic lifestyle of a royal was rare, but not unheard of. Perhaps, with a bit of luck, it could work. Perhaps, finally, he could stop being Prince of Blizzardcrest. Perhaps, finally, he could just be Rayelin.

The sharp smell of incense filled his nose and stung his eyes once more. His cloak felt heavy on his shoulders as he fought back his nervousness. He could feel the watchful eyes of the pack on him, staring into his soul. There was no way this could work.

Kenta grinned at him from across the room, surrounded by an entourage of snowcat royalty. This was the one night that even the solitary snowcats came together to celebrate, if it could even be called a celebration. How could they not be worried about the plan? Or maybe they were nervous, and just good at hiding it.

The hall, once filled with quiet murmurs, fell silent suddenly as the leaders of Blizzardcrest stepped to the center of the stage. Rayelin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had to focus.

“Welcome, friends,” Rayelin’s father stepped forward, his deep voice carrying across the gathered crowd. “You are here to witness the final stage of this ancient ceremony. For many centuries, the wolves of Blizzardcrest have upheld an alliance with the snowcats of Icerun…”

Rayelin could practically feel himself falling asleep. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. If the ceremony went through as planned, the pair would be headed to the peaks of Orrin’s Fangs. They would go alone, yet together, and that would be their chance to slip away. If they went down the far side of the mountains, perhaps the guards wouldn’t notice them. Not until it was too late, anyway.

“I, King Keldrak, and Queen Saiji now call the heirs to the stage.”

Rayelin glanced at Kenta, who was already stepping forward. This was it.

The only thing he could feel was fear. Fear that ran colder and deeper than the worst of Icerun’s blizzards. Fear that they had been caught.

“I thought you said the far side of the peaks would be unguarded!” Rayelin snapped, glancing back at the angry pack that chased them.

“I thought it wouldn’t be!” Kenta growled back.

“Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Just keep running! I’ll think of something.”

The rocky terrain soon gave way to snowy fields, making running easier. Rayelin slowed to follow Kenta, knowing the snowcat would be able to dodge the hidden crevasses beneath the snow.

Everything had gone wrong. First, the wind had kicked up, creating a small hurricane of snow that delayed the ceremonies. Then it was decided that a group of guards should accompany the duo to the peaks, in case of any further danger. And then the guards had, for some unknown reason, circled around to the back of the mountain, and alerted both the pack and the snowcats to the pair’s escapade.

Rayelin cast a quick glance at Kenta as they ran. They couldn't run for much longer; even Rayelin could feel himself tiring. The sounds of their hunters were quickly fading behind them, though it was some time before either of them noticed.

“I think we’re safe,” Rayelin panted. “We can probably stop running now.”

Kenta glanced behind them, then slowed to a stop. “That was awesome.”

“Awesome? We almost get caught, and… okay, yeah, it was.” Rayelin laughed softly. He was too happy to pretend to be upset. They were finally free. He glanced around at the seemingly endless snowfield.  “Where do we go from here?”

“You tell me, Prince.”

“I am not a prince! Not anymore. Today, I become just Rayelin!”

“Okay, just Rayelin, where do we go from here?”

Rayelin sat and stared at his companion, completely clueless.

“Maybe I should rephrase that,” Kenta mused. “Where does your girlfriend say we should go from here?”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Rayelin growled defensively. He kept the second part to himself: But I wish she was. “They’re probably still hunting us. They probably won’t ever stop hunting us, so we should get as far away as possible.”

“Murkwood, then,” Kenta said triumphantly. They started to march off, heading for what Rayelin could only hope was a way out of the snowfields.

“Murkwood?” Rayelin echoed. “On the other side of the continent?”

“We have to get as far away as possible, right?”

“But…”

“But nothing,” the snowcat replied simply. “I got us out of the mountains. I can get us out of this snowfield, and out of Icerun, and far away from here.”

“Sure,” the wolf growled softly. He knew the snowcat was right. Kenta was always right – or rather, Kenta was right most of the time.

The companions fell to silence as they walked. The sun was starting to rise now, the clouds overhead parting with a gentle breeze. Rayelin lost himself in his thoughts once more, trying to ignore the cold that was seeping into his fur.

He was happy, wasn’t he? This was what he had wanted, after all. Life as a commoner, without the flashy jewels and warm blankets and luxurious pillows that the royals of the palace possessed. 

Perhaps he felt a smidge of doubt, thinking about his future. Perhaps he felt some regret, leaving an easy life of royalty for a life of hardship and survival. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice.

If he’d even had a choice in the first place, of course. Maybe this wasn’t his choice at all. He thought he had never believed those ancient tales, stories of how the Creators decided the fate of all of Loria. But as he gazed out across the snowfield, he began to realize that maybe he did.

This was what the Creators wanted for him. This was his fate. This was his life now.

[its--fandom--darling]

between now and then, till I see you again pt 1.

Here is part one of which I hope will be a three part series wrapping up the Famous Last Words universe. 40 years have passed Sy is in his late 70′s, Bug is in her 60′s, Leigh and her brother, Jamie, are fully grown. There is gonna be a lot of angst, heartbreak, character death and mentions of past homophobia. this idea has been rolling around in my brain for quite sometime and as much as I hate to think about it there will be mentions of Sy being an absolute dick but growing and apologizing for it. now I don’t believe that everyone who is from the south is homophobic, but I believe that based on the area, his age and his time in the military there was probably some iternalized homophobia in him. (I hate to think about this as a bi woman but i digress).

Chapter Rating: PG-13, chapter warnings: brief language, talks of health issues(ex. heart attack), cancer and insinuations of past homophobia

Title taken from Collin Raye’s Love Me, this song is one of my all time favorites. divider by @firefly-graphics​

Leigh’s POV

The clock reads 3:43am when Leigh wakes to her phone buzzing on her nightstand. She sits up and blindly reaching for it before answering it with a yawn-distorted, “hello?”

              “Baby? Sorry I’m sorry to wake you up, but” your voice on the line is soft and soothing as it always has been, but a soft sob crosses the line that snaps Leigh awake.

“Mama? What is it? Is it daddy?” she asks, pushing herself onto the edge of the bed and sliding her toes into her slippers before standing and casting a look at her sleeping boyfriend behind before tiptoeing out of the room.

              “He’s had heart attack, baby, he’s stable right now but I can’t reach your brother and your daddy is asking for him,” you murmur, sniffling now and then.

“I’ll call Jamie, Mama, but I can’t promise he’ll come,” Leigh murmurs, deciding to make herself a cup of coffee, “I’ll also email my assistant and have her reschedule my appointments for the next few days and come down to the hospital as soon as I can.”

              You sigh, “Thank you, baby, I know your daddy didn’t handle things right when your brother came out, but he wants to apologize.”

“I’ll tell Jamie that, Mama. Is there somebody with you right now?”

              “Willa is here too, but – “

“But what mama?”

              “When they were running the other tests to see what damage the heart attack did, they discovered that the cancer is back again, it’s in his pancreas now.”

Leigh’s heart sinks, closing her eyes tightly against the tears, her throat closing at the news. “Fuck, I thought they’d gotten it all last time.”

              “So did we, baby. I think that’s part of why your bull-headed daddy is so desperate to see your brother.”

“I’ll get him to come, Mama, even if I have to drag his ass their myself.”

              You chuckle softly, “Thank you, I’ll see you soon then?”

“Of course, Mama. Kiss daddy for me?” leigh murmurs, softly.

              “Will do, baby, as soon as I’m allowed back to see him.”

“Thanks, mama, I love you.”

              “Love you too, Leigh, drive safely.”

“I will, see you later,” leigh murmurs, hanging up. She sets her phone down on the counter and drops her head into her hands. She feels Sam’s hands slide up her back and rest on her shoulders.

              “Everything alright?”

“I gotta go home. Dads had a heart attack.”

              “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arms around her middle and kissing her head. “Do you need me to come with you?”

Leigh shakes her head, “I appreciate it, but I think it’ll be hard enough on daddy for me and Jamie to see him this way, he won’t more of an audience than necessary.”

              Sam nods, “Alright, I’ll keep my phone on me and if anything changes, you just give me a call and I’ll be there, okay?”

Leigh nods and then turn to bury her face in his chest. “Thank you.”

              “Of course,” he murmurs into her hair and rubs her back as the coffee maker beeps. “Do you want me to pack you a bag while you call your brother?”

Leigh nods again, pulling away from him and moving to grab her cup of coffee, before picking up her phone. “Yes, please, that would save me so much time.”

              Sam kisses her head. “You got it, babe,” he murmurs, before heading back towards the bedroom as Leigh dials her brother’s number.

[devilrising]

For me the top of the list of things that feel gay and homophobic at the same time is Darco MyFatherWillHearAboutThis Malfoy

I really enjoyed this prompt! Thank you Raye for the beta <3

Warnings: drunken shenanigans, spin the bottle, and first kisses

***

The Room of Requirement is packed with students, speakers, and tables covered with cheap food and alcohol. Harry isn’t entirely sure who thought asking for Muggle speakers was a good idea, but the Room had supplied massive ones that take up a good amount of space. Occasionally a Pureblood bumps into them, and Harry takes great delight in watching them flinch and rush away.

When Hermione had suggested a party to help build interhouse relationships for the Eighth Years, Harry had been skeptical at best. When Ron had readily agreed to it, and even made sure the Slytherins were included, Harry was suspicious. There’s no way Ron was willing to hang out with Slytherins without an ulterior motive.

Part of Harry thinks he just wants to get into Hermione’s pants.

Face twisting in disgust at the thought, Harry forces himself back to the current situation. Most of the Eighth Years are gathered in a semi-circle, sitting in front of a roaring fire. There’s a bottle in the middle of the group, presently ignored in favour of the couple snogging. Harry didn’t see the point in playing Spin the Bottle. He had protested and claimed that they were too old to be making people kiss their classmates, but no one had wanted to listen to him.

Now though, after a few shots of Firewhiskey burning through his veins, he doesn’t think it’s such a bad idea anymore. If nothing else, it has finally made Dean and Seamus realise how stupid they are for each other.

“Alright alright! Keep it family friendly!” Hermione calls out, voice slightly slurred. The boys finally break apart, Dean squeezing Seamus’ butt once before moving back to his spot in the circle. Seamus flushes bright red, and after a moment, crawls after him.

“Spin the bottle!” Blaise shouts, grinning as it's set in motion again.

With all eyes turned to watch who it lands on, Harry takes a moment to scan the room again. There’s the circle of gay girls also playing spin the bottle, another group of people playing a drinking game of some sort, and not much else happening. The flash of blond hair he’s looking for is nowhere to be found, and he sighs under his breath. Bloody Malfoy must be invisible. Or not interested in getting drunk.

Harry forces his eyes back to his own circle, the group of boys staring in horror at the bottle. Theodore Nott and Terry Boot. Harry bites back a shocked laugh. It had surprised absolutely no one when both these boys came out, but surprised everyone when they started dating. Then it had all promptly fallen apart. And now they have to kiss because of a drunk party game. Harry feels slightly sorry for them, even if it’s also hilarious.

He watches as Terry wrinkles his nose in disgust, but shuffles forward on his knees to sit in the centre of the circle. Theo follows a moment later, scowling at Terry.

“It can’t be too bad Theo! You used to be constantly snogging him!”

“Not the time, Blaise,” Ron murmurs from where he’s standing with Hermione next to the fireplace. Ron may be bisexual, and therefore meets the criteria to join the game, but there’s no way he’d look at anyone else now he’s with Hermione. The two are nausea inducing, and Harry loves them.

Harry watches as Terry scoffs, fists his hands in Theodore’s shirt, and tugs him close. The kiss is a harsh peck, over in a second. Theo looks stunned, and then he’s hauling Terry back in. This time, it’s closer to snogging, and earns a few wolf whistles.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” Blaise mutters. “Bloody boys.”

“Blaise, you’re a boy,” Harry whispers pointedly.

Blaise just shrugs.

“Move it on lads,” Dean calls out.

Terry pulls away first, putting some distance between himself and Theo. And then he’s lifting a hand and slapping Theo across the cheek.

Theodore swears loudly, standing up and storming back to his spot next to Blaise. I guess they aren’t getting back together.

Cheers erupt from the circle of girls, and Harry turns to find Pansy and Lavender snogging. He watches as Pansy gets her hands in Lavender’s hair and tugs, making her moan. Hermione is quick to break it up, and the girls settle back down together, Pansy practically sitting in Lavender’s lap.

“Spin the bottle!” Anthony Goldstein calls, and Blaise takes great delight in grabbing it and giving a hard spin.

Harry zones out again, letting the game play around him. He briefly sees Blaise crawling into the circle, but he doesn’t know who the other player is. He glances around the room again. Where the fuck is Malfoy?

***

“You know what’s both gay and homophobic?” Theodore is asking a little while later, between rounds. Harry thinks having to kiss Dean Thomas is pretty high on his list. Dean a) has a boyfriend (as of 15 minutes ago) and b) is as far away from Harry’s type as possible. He won’t say that though; he would hate to offend one of his roommates of eight years.

“Guitars!”

The circle cheers.

“How?” Harry asks. He’s definitely missing something.

“You know. All those homophobic men who play them, but the gays love guitars.” Theo shakes his head like it should be obvious.

“Here I was thinking you’d say being forced to snog your ex!” Justin Finch-Fletchley called from across the room.

Theo huffs, looking down at the floor as his ears become pink.

An awkward cough draws Harry’s attention to someone outside the circle. Malfoy. Harry freezes, unable to tear his eyes away from Malfoy. His hair is for once not slicked back, but purposely tousled, hanging down over his forehead. His Hogwarts robes have been swapped out for a mesh black shirt and sinfully tight jeans. Harry can see his nipples through the shirt, and the sight makes his mouth water.

“You know what I think is gay and homophobic at the same time?” Ron, drunk off his arse, asks the group.

Everyone pauses, waiting.

“Draco MyFatherWillHearAboutThis Malfoy!”

The circle explodes with laughter and catcalls. All eyes turn to Malfoy, and Harry watches as the boys rake their eyes over his outfit. Something heavy settles and twists in Harry’s gut.

Malfoy flushes a lovely colour of pink, stuttering. No words actually manage to form, and after a few attempts at talking, he just rolls his eyes.

“Join the circle Draco!” Blaise says, his words nearly slurred beyond recognition. Theo nods enthusiastically, and soon everyone else is practically begging Malfoy to join. With an exaggerated sigh, Malfoy makes his way to the circle, sitting down between Theo and Blaise.

Great. Time to leave.

Harry shuffles back slowly, hoping not to draw any attention to himself. The universe has other plans though, as all eyes immediately fix on him.

Harry clears his throat. “I’m uh- I’m gonna go find Hermione. It’s getting late.” He feels his cheeks heating up, and hopes that the flush will be hidden under his dark skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Nope. Absolutely not. It’s just gotten interesting!” Seamus declares, his accent made all the more worse with excess alcohol. Dean, who Seamus is using as a chair, nods along.

“Yeah Potter, play one more round with us!” Anthony pipes up, a smirk playing on his lips.

A hand grabs Harry’s wrist and tugs him back to the floor. Harry resumes his position in the circle with a scowl. He can’t believe this is happening. Except, it’s not at all surprising.

“What do you say, Draco spins this time?” Blaise asks the group, and everyone nods. Everyone except Harry, who can’t think of a worse idea, but no one seems to care.

Malfoy turns to look at Blaise, his expression hidden from Harry; after a slight hesitation, he reaches forward. Draco’s pale, delicate hands look beautiful next to the bottle. Harry shakes his head. I must be really drunk.

The bottle spins and spins and spins. Harry nearly goes dizzy from watching it move, trying to predict where it will end up. Eventually it begins to slow down. Harry tracks its movements, his eyes flitting from Terry to Anthony to Dean to Seamus to…

“No. Nuh uh, no way.” All faces once again turn to Harry, and he glares at all of them.

“You have to Harry! It’s the rules!” Theo says.

“I am not kissing Malfoy.”

“Why not, Potter?” Blaise asks, eyes innocently--worryingly--large.

“Because it’s Malfoy.”

Harry turns to find Malfoy’s eyes, who is staring right at him. His gaze burns into Harry, setting him alight. I can’t do this.

“What’s wrong Potter?” Malfoy asks, popping the ‘p’ in an imitation of the way he used to say it. Now though, after the antagonism of their rivalry has faded to banter and bickering, Malfoy says it more gently. It always makes something in Harry’s brain melt. “Afraid I’ll be too good?” He lifts a single eyebrow, thin lips curving into a smirk.

“As if Malfoy. You’ve probably never kissed anyone before!” Harry knows it’s weak, but his brain is mostly offline thanks to the Firewhiskey and the idea of what’s about to happen. Because of course he’s going to kiss Malfoy.

“Trust me Potter, he has.”

Harry isn’t sure who said it, but he glares in the general direction. The image of Draco kissing someone other than him turns his mood sour. The weight in his gut reappears.

Draco is grinning when Harry looks at him again. He moves onto his knees and shuffles into the centre of the circle. “Scared, Potter?”

Harry scowls, pushing aside all rational thought, and joins him. “You wish, Malfoy.”

Harry doesn’t have another second to think, because Draco is grabbing the collar of Harry’s shirt and pulling him in. Fire floods Harry’s veins as his lips meet Draco’s. His fingers twitch, and he threads them into Draco’s breath-taking hair. The kiss turns heated very quickly, and Harry struggles to keep up as Draco slides his tongue against Harry’s. He’s going dizzy with it, burning from the inside out. His stomach flips as Draco slides his hands from his collar to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.

Harry gasps for breath as they break apart, his lungs burning at the lack of oxygen. He can hear his pulse in his ears, blocking out everything except himself and Draco. After a second of harsh breathing, he feels lips on his jaw. A moan is wrenched from him as Draco nips gently, and then the mouth moves down to his neck. Draco sucks a mark into his skin, high up on his neck where Harry won’t be able to cover it. Harry can’t help the groan he releases, and tugs Draco back up to meet his lips again. Right where he wants him.

“Time to break it up!” someone is shouting, and Harry whines when Draco pulls away slightly.

As their foreheads rest against each other, Harry becomes aware of everyone in the Room cheering. Everyone. Not just the guys he was playing with, but the girls and other guys as well. Harry sighs, but he can’t help the smile on his lips.

“About bloody time mate,” Ron is saying when Harry finally gathers the courage to look at something other than the floor.

“Is now an appropriate time to say that I charmed the bottle?” Blaise asks, and Harry and Draco both whip around to look at him.

“You what?!” Draco shouts, glaring daggers into his friend.

“You two have been eye-fucking all term! I’m helping you get laid, Draco.” Blaise grins, the smug smile making Harry shake his head.

Draco rolls his eyes and stands up properly. Before Harry can begin doubting anything, Draco grabs his hand and hauls him up. Harry stands in front of Draco, a shy smile on his lips. God, he’s pretty.

“Come on, Harry,” Draco murmurs into his ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

Harry is helpless to do anything but nod and follow him out of the Room, ignoring the catcalls that trail after them.

***

Read on AO3

Masterlist

[shewillreadyou]

Me before You: Chapter 2- For Real

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language, adult content, mild sexual innuendo. 

Word Count: 2458

Catch up: Haven’t met you Yet

Prompts: @theworldofprompts​ 

“Name one thing you regret in life?”  

“Well, for starters, I married you.” will appear in BOLD.

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: For Real- Amel Larrieux

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may salute your bride.”

Savannah and her groom shared a modest kiss. 

“It is my pleasure to present to you for the very first time the Duke and Duchess of Ramsford. Bertrand and Savannah Beaumont of Cordonia.”

“Cordonia?” Riley whispered to herself.

“So I’m not crazy. Drake said he is from Cordonia. The Liam look-alike could really be King Liam of Cordonia. The matron of honor could actually be Queen Carsyn. This is insane.” 

Her thoughts raced as she tried to make connections. 

“There will be a cocktail hour in the barn,” an older woman announced.

The barn was decorated in a rustic theme, Tim McGraw’s, “I like it, I love it” played in the background and there were servers with appetizers everywhere. Quickly, lines formed for the open bars. Mack held on to Riley’s arm as they waited.

“So let me get this straight? The guy you met in New York, was Drake? Drake Walker? Like Savannah’s brother Drake? No fucking way. The world is not that small.”

“Yeah, apparently it is, he is the man I saw at the airport, the guy from the bar, the guy I’ve been texting and now he’s here.”

“Sounds like fate.”

“I don’t know if I believe in fate. More like dumb luck.”

“Miss Riley?” a server interrupts their conversation. 

“For you and your guest.”

He offers a whiskey sour and an old fashion, the signature drink to she and Mack.

“Compliments of Mr. Walker. My name is Caleb, I have been personally assigned to you for the duration of the evening. You don’t need to wait in lines. I can bring you whatever you need to eat or drink.”

“Wow, well thank you Caleb. That’s very thoughtful.” 

She tries to tip Caleb and he refuses. 

“No thank you Ma’am. Mr. Walker has already compensated me handsomely. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get for you.”

Later

The wedding party joins the guests in the barn before the bride and groom have their first dance. Riley watched from her assigned seat wondering who would end up seated next to her. The seat went empty for the first part of the afternoon. 

“That was a beautiful ceremony. You know, I have seen pictures and heard tons of stories about Drake from Savannah, but he has really grown up. He is a hottie.”

“He’s ok.”

“Wow, just ok? Huh? I’m wounded.” he says in a raspy voice. 

“Drake!”

Mack and Riley blush furiously.

“Raye. It’s good to see you again.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” she smirked.

“Sorry! Drake, this is Mackenzie, Mack this is Savannah’s brother Drake.”  

“Don’t listen to her. She was definitely pleasantly surprised,” Mack said as she extended her hand for Drake to kiss. 

Riley elbowed Mack and Drake laughed as he shook her hand. 

“Good thing I get the honor of keeping you company tonight. My seat was moved next to yours.”

He smiled and Riley’s heart melted just a little bit more. He leaned over to hug her and she immediately flashed back to their dance on the rooftop. 

After their first dance, all the guests were invited to the dance floor. “At Last” by Etta James started to play.

“May I have this dance? And please don’t tell me that your feet still hurt.”

She stood, unsure of what to do in the presence of royalty.

“Your Majesty, we have to stop meeting this way. Shouldn’t you be dancing with your Queen?”

Before he could answer, Drake slipped up behind Riley snaking his strong arm around her waist. Pulling her into his embrace.

“Beat it Li!”

“Miss me yet?” 

“Perfect timing. Small world. You didn’t say that your Mom and sister lived so close to me.”

“I didn’t think it was pertinent information at the time,” he said as he led her in a slow dance. Riley watched Queen Carsyn over Drakes shoulder, as she shot daggers at King Liam. 

“Is he always like that?”

“What?”

“Liam? Is he always so tactless?”

“I’m not at liberty to comment,” he chuckles.

“Question asked, question answered.”

“Enough about Liam. Have I mentioned how stunning you look?”

“No, but thanks for the compliment anyway.”

She smiled, getting lost in his eyes as they swayed to the music.  

After sitting and watching Drake and Riley dance and flirt for hours Mack was about ready to go.

“Ri, I’m about ready to head out.”

“Riley reluctantly said her goodbyes to Drake, not knowing when she’d see him again. 

After a short drive back to her place they arrived to see a red Jeep sitting idle in front of her door waiting. Riley looked at Mack and shrugged her shoulders. When she had said goodnight to her friend, she headed to the door. The window of the Jeep lowered, “Hey, could you tell me where to get something good to eat in this neighborhood?” 

“Drake! What-- how did you know where I lived?”

“Guestbook.”

“Well, that isn’t creepy at all.” 

“I’m hungry and thought you might be hungry too.” 

“So, where to?”

“I don’t know, I have only been here a few weeks.”

“I know a place.”

Drake gets out of the truck and walks around waving at Mack, who is still watching from her car. He opens the door for Riley and grabs her by the waist helping her into the truck.

“Really? Such a gentleman.”

He smiles as he heads back around. Mack lowers her window and says, “I took a picture of your license plates just in case she doesn’t make it back.”

“Noted.”

“Thank you. So where are we going?”

“Whataburger. I can’t get that in Cordonia.”

“What the what?”

“You’ll love it, promise and it’s on me. Seat belt.”

“Let me ask you a question?”

“Just one?”

“God no, I have a million questions.”

“Ok, I will try my best to answer them.”

She thinks of what she wants to ask first.

“What did you honestly think when you saw me today?”

“That I am not this lucky.”

A blush crept across her face as she awkwardly shifted in the seat.

“Why do you live in Cordonia if your Mom and Sister are here?”

“Work is there. Besides, I have never had a good reason to come back.”

“I see.”

 Her face betrayed her, she was feeling conflicted and defeated and it showed. They drove along the dark road quietly for a few minutes.

“So, uh, you must do important work in Cordonia for you to stay there instead of here with your family.”

“If you want to know what I do for a living Raye, just ask.”

“You told me not to and I respect your wishes.”

“Well, some would consider it important. My family won’t be here for long, Sav and my nephew are moving to Cordonia this week. I’m the lead for the King’s Guard.”

“You mean you protect Liam?”

“Yeah,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

Just then they pulled into the parking lot. The line in the drive thru was long so they headed inside. He held the door open for her and when they stood in front of the counter he stood directly behind her as they both looked up at the menu. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms when he noticed her shiver. 

“Cold?”

“Yeah, a little. Also, overwhelmed with this menu. Order for me?”

A mischievous grin crept across his face as he placed his suit coat around her shoulders. 

After an hour of probing conversation, many laughs, and eating a deliciously greasy burger, heavenly fries with as Drake called it “fancy fucking ketchup,” they headed back to her place. 

“Drake, I’m not ready for tonight to end,” she confessed.

“I know the feeling.”

“Come upstairs with me?”

“Riley Elizabeth Raye! What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“The kind who steals people’s personal information out of wedding guest books.” 

“Checkmate.”

“Besides, I have had these shoes on since this morning. My feet! Anyway, we can watch a movie and chat for a little while.”

“I have been told I give a mean foot massage.”

“Are you offering?”

He licks his lips and bites his lips. Her center twitched.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Why are you looking at me like you want to climb in my lap?

Her cheeks flushed red.

“You wish.”

“Enough about that, let’s talk about our first real date.”

“Who said I wanted to date a guy with no real reason to come to Dallas?”

“Whoa, that was before.”

They headed up to her apartment. He stood so close to her in the elevator that she could feel his body heat. They had a staring contest that she lost. She definitely looked away first. It was like he was staring into her soul. The sexual tension was thick and she felt relieved when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. 

“Long distance dating is not exactly something I want to pursue.”

“Understandable. I’m here now. Let me take you out tomorrow.”

“What would that look like?”

“Dallas Jazz fest is tomorrow.”

“And you just happened to know that off the top of your head?”

“I might have done some research on my phone when I learned that a certain lady whom I’d like to impress was within my grasp.”

She chortled, “you like jazz?”

“No, but if I get to spend time with you it can’t be that bad.”

“You’d do that for me?”

They step inside her place and he makes a face. 

“What is it?”

“Your place smells exactly like I expected, fruity.”

She invites Drake to sit as she kicks her shoes off. She moves around the counter and opens the fridge grabbing a couple bottles of water, a bottle of Glenmorangie, and a couple glasses. 

“Raye, this is the good stuff. It’s really expensive. Sure you’re sharing?”

“Completely, pour me one too? Be right back,” she says as she headed into her bedroom to change and freshen up.

When she returned, Drake cleared his throat at the sight of her barely there clothing change. 

They settled on the soft couch as Drake passed her the tumbler of whiskey he poured for her. She eyed the drink as he stared at her. 

“What are you looking at?”

“Your umm, outfit? Comfy?”

“Yes. Very. Should I drink this? I didn’t see you pour it.”

“Good grief, switch with me.” Drake says before raising his glass.

“Cheers, to the best reason I ever had to come back to the States.”

She bit her lip trying to contain her smile.

“Well then, after a toast like that you get to pick the movie.”

She later regretted being so generous. Drake chose FACE OFF. They started off good, he pulled her aching feet into his lap and rubbed them until she was sure she would orgasm. She pulled away crossing her legs in a twisted attempt to save her panties. 

She loved the movie but knew she couldn’t get through any of the scenes when they ran their hands down the others face to wordlessly say, I love you. So as much as she tried she sat with tears running down her face for much of the movie. The first time she cried Drake pretended to ignore it. She wiped her face on her. The next time she cried he looked at her with a raised eyebrow and the final time he pulled her into his arms and wiped her tears.

“You definitely get to pick a movie that won’t make you cry next time.”

“Next time? You really want to go out with me, huh?”

“I thought that was clear by now.”

  “Drake, can I be honest?”

“I’d prefer it.”

“I have never dated a white guy before.”

He feigned shock. Then laughed. 

“We have that in common because I haven't either. Is that all?”

“No, I didn’t expect to like you this much.”

“Have you dated a black woman before?”

“No.”

“Are you ready for family and friends to turn their backs on you? For strangers to shoot us dirty looks in public? For all of the things that come along with dating me?”

“I guess I never really thought about it. But I’d like to think that it would be a small price to pay to be with you.”

 They chatted until they both fell asleep. The sunrise plucked him from his slumber. She had fallen asleep in his arms. He watched her for a few moments fighting the urge to kiss her. He untangled himself from her and used her restroom. When he returned, she was awake. 

“I thought you finally came to your senses and left.”

“I don’t scare easily. I’m headed back to the ranch. I’ll pick you up around 6pm.”

She stood and they shared a long embrace as she secretly sniffed him trying to memorize his smell before she let him out.

Back at the ranch

“You stayed out all night. Did you get some trim?”

“No.”

Figures. You wouldn’t know what to do with all that ass anyway.

“And you do?” Carsyn interjects.

“Carsyn, I didn’t realize you were back from your morning run.”

“I knew that you wanted to fuck her. I saw the way you were looking at her at the wedding.”

Drake stands, “This seems like a personal conversation. Call me later Li.”

Liam shakes his head and turns to his wife. 

“You are always making a big deal out of nothing. I have given you everything. You knew who I was before you married Me. You are the queen. Why are you so insecure?”

Tears filled her eyes. 

“Name one thing you regret in life?”  “Well, for starters, I married you.”

Liam stormed out of the room to find Drake in the hall on the phone with Riley. When Drake sees Liam he ends the call.

“Drake Walker. Your nose is open. I know you think you like her but, do you really want to start seeing a black woman? They can be a lot.”

“Don’t be an ass Li, any woman can be a lot. But it’s different with her. She is so chill. Like it’s easy with her.” 

“If it’s so easy, why didn’t you close?”

“I said that it’s easy to be with her. Not that she was easy you, prick.”

“Just be careful Drake. You know what they say… Once you go black…”

“Li! For fucks sake.”

“I’m just saying. I’m going out tonight so if you need a trial run Carsyn will be here alone.”

“Did you just give me permission to fuck your wife?”

“Sure, everyone knows I’m not.”

“Hard pass.”

@txemrn​​​ @pixie88​​​ @secretaryunpaid​​​@khoicesbyk​​​ @blackkingliamstan​​​ @mom2000aggie​​​ @shannonwrote​​​ @hopelessromanticmonie​​​ @fanjessfic​​​ @rideordiechronicles​​​ @lucy-268​​​ @dcbbw​​​ @darley1101​​​ @maurine07​​​​ @sfb123​​​ @bbrandy2002​​​ @kingliam2019​​​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​​​ @lem-20​​​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​​​ @theworldofprompts​​ @no-one-u-know​​

TRR: @twinkleallnight​​​  @bebepac​​​ @mainstreetreader​​​ @romereadingshop​​​ @romewritingshop​​​ @lem-20​​​ @texaskitten30​​

[pixie88]

Vicky

Chapter 19 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: This chapter has 2 star guest appearances from 2 beauty's @secretaryunpaid and @ridgy--didge 😘😘 Again I’m going to try and start editing and publishing 2 chapters a week as I have 5 drafts in ATB and 3 drafts in Addicted to You (Series 2 of ATB) obviously if you wish to stop reading after series 1 I completely understand just let me know if you like to be untagged. Now offence taken. I hope you like it.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff, Little Angst, Mention of drug abuse & Violence.

Song: Raye - Love of you life.

Word Count: 2303

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

As soon as she read the words she knew who had done this "The flat is all clear" Harry says as Laila just stares at the words on the wall "It was Vicky" she says without looking away. "Are you sure?" he questions her, Laila nods "She's done something like this before when I've given Zeppy advice to stay away from her while she's using in the past. So, she completely smashed up my car"

18 Years ago.

"Nate, you know everyone says she's a druggy right?" this wasn't the reaction he wanted when he told his family about Vic "Laila, she is done with all that!" he hisses at her "Whatever...it's your life!" she gets up off the sofa and heads back to her bedroom. Nate was only 16 and Vic was 2 years older, Terry and Liz didn't care about the age gap as they were the same age when they got together, but it was more the rumours they had heard about her half the time she's high and the other half she's trying to get money to score.

As much as they didn't like her, Terry and Liz knew if they expressed their concerns, this will just push him away and towards her. All they could do is be there for him, they didn't have to worry. 4 months into the relationship the day before Laila's 14 birthday, Vicky just disappeared for two years when she finally turned up she told him about Zeppy. Hoping that he would stump up maintenance for her, but a trainee mechanic didn't make that much. Nate had learned not to give her money for anything, so if Zeppy needed something he would go out and buy it for her himself.

When she reached 12 years old, Vicky relapsed again, Nate had lost count of how many times she had gone back to the gear. Vicky had ended up in hospital again, Nate was working so he had asked Laila to take her to see Vic. When they arrived Vicky was asleep, although she was only 4 years older than Laila, looked twice her age. Zeppy was in tears "Hey, she'll be OK! She always is!" Laila tried to comfort her.

Hearing Zeppy's voice she stirred but kept her eyes shut "Aunt Laila, sometimes I wish she wasn't! I wish she wasn't OK.....I can't keep going through this!" Zeppy sobbed "I get that...I do! Sometimes, you can only take so much before you start to wonder if you would be better off without them or keep putting yourself through it"

This angered Vicky.

3 Days later.

She discharged herself from hospital and caught the tube to Laila's work. She saw her car parked up, she took off her heeled boots and smashed every window, pulling out her house key she scraped it across the shiny black paint work before smashing in her headlights. With the alarm going off Laila and Daniel rushed outside, but the damaged had been done.

Vicky got 6 months in prison for criminal damage.

Nate felt so much guilt that he decided he would worked on her car until it looked like new but Terry and Grandad Carelli couldn't let him do it alone, so they got involved too.

That was Vicky's first attack on Laila...

Present day.

Harry didn't want her staying at the flat just in case, Vicky came back no matter how much Laila protested "Harry, I'll be fine here! I can handle Vicky" he's packing a bag for her "I don't care...Laila, you aren't staying here" although she wasn't scared of Vic, she found Harry's protective side quite a turn on.

The next day.

Harry is in the shower, while Laila is cooking them breakfast "Alexa play Harry's playlist" she calls out. Raye - Love of Your Life starts playing, Laila starts swaying her hips and sings along.

"Oh, I could make you confused

I could give you something to lose

I'ma wake you up in the morning

In the bathroom singing the blues

No, I won't clean up your plates (Your plates)

Got my hair all in your face (Your face)

And my legs wrapped 'round your waist (Your waist)

No, I could never give you any space but I

I could be the love, be the love

Be the love, be the love of your life

I could be the love, be the love

Be the love, be the love of your life

I could be the light, be the light

Be the light when it's dark in the night

Oh God, I could be the love, be the love

Be the love, be the love of your life"

Harry stops in the doorway admiring the view, she hadn't noticed him and continues singing. He watches her hip roll and booty pop. He's almost convinced she knows he's there, so she's moving like this to get a reaction out of him. Which by how tight his boxers have gone she had gotten one.

"Put your, put your ego down when you need to

Yes, I get stressed out if I can't read you

Bad London girl raised in the south

I run my mouth, I say shit that I really didn't meant to say

Got my hair all in your face (Your face)

And my legs wrapped 'round your waist (Your waist)

No, I could ne......."

She cuts herself off when he startles her by wrapping his arms around her from behind "Why does that song seem like it was made for you?" He asks before placing a soft kiss against her neck "Maybe because my legs are normally wrapped around ya waist?" she laughs, "That or the love of you life bit" he nips her ear.

He kisses her neck again "Harry, I'm trying to cook breakfast," he leans forward moving the pan off the heated ring "I'm hungry for....!"  he spins her round to face him before lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. His lips crash to hers, his hands slip under his t-shirt she's wearing, grasping the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down until their a puddle on the floor.

The pads of his fingers parts her folds, the kiss became more intense, she moans against his lips. She's ready for him, she pushes down his boxers springing him free, she lines him up against her apex. With one swift movement, he thrusts into her, he groans as he grips her arse pulling her forward. She grips his shoulders, his thumb brushes over her nipple making her moan.

A few hours later.

"....I found her washing the kittens in the toilet" Mrs. Hoges tells Laila stories of her 6 year old granddaughter in her southern American accent while she's cutting her hair "No!! How old were they?"

"5 maybe 6 weeks...I shouldn't laugh but it was quite funny"

As she finishes up, she hears her phone buzz.

She loves her friends, but they worry too much, Laila believes if Vicky wanted to hurt her she would.

15 Minutes later...

Laila calls in her next client Miss. Ferguson in "Hey! How are you?" she greets her "G'day, I'm great thanks, you?" She says in her rich Australian accent, Laila nods "So what are we doing today?" Laila throws the gown over her "I'm thinking chocolate brown highlights" Laila nods tearing the foil strips.

At the corner of her eye, she notices someone lean against the wall to her right, she glances over and rolls her eyes as she makes her way over "Harry, what are you doing here?"

"Don't worry Daniel said it was fine.... considering" he seems worried "As much I love you worrying over me...I will be fine" she can see he has no plans on leaving her anytime soon "But seems you aren't going anywhere make yourself useful and pass me those foils when I ask" they make their way back over to Miss. Ferguson.

Once her foils are done, Laila gets Harry to take her to the sinks and wash her hair "I..don't know how to wash women's hair," he whispers to Laila, who laughs "Dude! Come on, it's not that difficult! You know how to wash your hair just wash it how you would yours but we give them a head massage when you do the conditioner" she winks leaving him to it.

At the end of her shift, "Did you have fun being my trainee?" he looks over to her, she had made him do 5 washes, made endless amount of teas and coffees and sweep up hair "I have no idea how you do this everyday my hands are pruned" she laughs, "Aww, those delicate hands can't handle a little water?" she jokes as she grabs her stuff to leave. She checks her phone and saw Nate had text her.

Although Laila wasn't scared of Vicky, she was relieved that she had been caught "Vicky's in custody" she turns towards Harry, who let's out a sigh of relief "Thank...fuck!" He wraps her up in his arms "Let hope she's not released anytime soon" she smiles up at him. She sends a quick reply back.

"So, that means I lose my hunky trainee?" She winks at him, he chuckles "Would it be inappropriate to take my boss out to dinner?" She smirks "Well, now your shift has finished you're no longer my trainee! I'm guessing it's acceptable!"

They leave the salon and find a restaurant that can seat them. Once they are shown their table, they're looking through the menu she looks up at Harry then she spots him...Fuck!!!! She thought as she moved the menu to cover her face.

"Laila?" She hears Harry say "Yes?" She asked not lowering her menu, "Who are you hiding from?" She can almost hear him smirking "No one! I have no idea what you're talking about!" He shook his head "You know even if I can't see your face I can tell you are lying"

She pulls down the menu a little "After Josh, Nikki set me up on a blind date...oh my god the guy was awful. He was one of those who are someone in school, but after he's a nobody the whole date he was just reminiscing about his days at school. I was so bored, so I made my excuses to use the toilets which was right next to the exit and left" Harry howls "Laila!! You didn't?!" He wipes his tears from laughing.

"I did! It's the guy over there with the woman with the yellow dress" Harry is about to turn to look, "Don't look you'll make it obvious!" She hisses "I need to see what this guy looks like especially if you've ditched him!" He turns and he can't believe his eyes "Callum?" He turns back to her "Yeah, how did you know?" She questions him.

"He was the kid in school that used to bully me about my weight...well until Alec told him to back off" Harry starts to laugh again "What's funny?" She asks, "So, he came to my gym years later wanting a PT, I managed to get him into shape....but it felt so good having someone who used to bully me come to me for help and now? My girlfriend went on a date with him and done a runner!" Harry is in fits of laughter.

"Maybe I should go over and say hi" Laila gives him a look as of to say don't you dare, but its to late, he's up and walking over to their table "Callum! I saw you and thought I'd come over and say hi!" Callum looks up at him "Harry, mate how are you?" The pair shake hands "Good, just here with my girlfriend Laila" he points in Laila's direction she awkwardly smiles back.

"I feel like I know her from somewhere" Callum's date turns in Laila's direction, now all 3 are looking over to her. Fuck! Does he recognize me?! She thought. "I think she just has one of those faces" Harry laughs "So, who's your date?" Callum's date looks up at Harry.

Laila caught her checking Harry out, she holds out her hand, which Harry shakes and quickly drops much to Callum's dates disappointment. She watches him smile at him both before making his way back to their table.

"Please tell me..he doesn't remember me?!" She asks as he sits, Harry chuckles "He thinks he knows you from somewhere, but no idea where" Laila sighs with relief "Thank god! But the nerve of his date! Checking you out right in front of him!" Her tone was curt.

A grin appeared on his face "So, I didn't imagine it then!" She rolls her eyes at him "No, I saw it too!" She doesn't look impressed "They were on a first date too! Why do you sound jealous?" He loves this side to her "I'm not.... I just think its rude checking out someone else when you are on a date" he leans over interlinking his fingers through hers "Gorgeous....come on surely you know I literally have tunnel vision, if it's not you I'm not interested! Plus do you know how good it felt telling him that I was with you?! The chubby kid got the super hot girlfriend and at 34 he's still on his first date" His words make her blush.

They're interrupted by the waiter who takes their order.

They are laughing at a silly joke Harry's mum told him when he heads to their table "I figured out where I know you from!" Callum says in an airy tone "We went on a blind date set up by Nikki! You ran out on it"

Fuck he remembered! She thought.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 20.

@lem-20​ @ridgy--didge​ @irisofpurple​ @secretaryunpaid​ @khoicesbyk​ @txemrn​ @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer​ @tea-me-kah​ @casualpostqueen​ @beautifuluknownvoid​

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

Aka the thing that has Wednesday in the name but never happens on Wednesday it’s fine 🙃short & sweet because this ep was obviously not focused on ellick, but enjoy nonetheless!

I love that Jack texted Ellie to check in on Nick. Like it wasn’t necessary to have her “make sure Torres feeds Carl” it totally wasn’t. Ellie gets no other task except for keep tabs on your boyfriend I mean partner. It’s almost like Jack is still trying to push them together even as she knows she’s on her way out of NCIS 👀 Then their little bickering is still so cute. They can’t help themselves but flirt right in front of McGee and good ol’ McGee is sick of it “skip to the end, why do I have a point” like ok kids I don’t need to hear your banter, save that for the bedroom when I don’t have to play witness please. Ellie’s little smirk and shake of her head, I just love that she wants to be annoyed with him but also she’s so ~*in love*~ with this ridiculous man all she can do is roll her eyes at him 😍 And then that last parting comment from Nick, “be our pleasure” why does that do things to me?? First off, he’s speaking for both of them and there’s no snarky comment from Ellie like there would have been in seasons prior. And second, he’s like hell yeah I love working with my girl and I know she loves working with me so yes it’ll be our pleasure to take down this asshat. And third a little detour a la hormones, all I can imagine is him saying a similar “be my pleasure” now in a whooooole different light (read: in the bedroom, in bed, with Ellie, bringing her- um, pleasure).

Also, McGee puzzled over Sloane giving her fish to Torres to take care of. While Vance makes it seem like she could be gone for a while due to the dangers of the mission (or gone period), I truly think this is some Jack sneakiness at play. This is her being the psychologist she is and giving Nick that nudge he needs to realize he can take care of another living being. She knows how much he needs that step, just to prove to himself another “thing” can rely on him and he won’t let them down (like he feels he always does to anyone close to him). She knows a fish is an easy step and gateway into getting him to opening up the possibility of a long-term serious commitment. Yes, a fish is a gateway to Ellie, seems silly but it’s legit. And based on the sneak peek for this next ep tomorrow, I’m so excited to see Nick actually have to take care of said fish and slowly realize he can do this. Such a good contrast and growth from just a couple episodes ago 🥰

Aaaaand back to why Nick said it would be our pleasure - because hanging out with his girl, excuse me, woman, worrying about some fish and teasing her about her old goldfish, RIP Goldie, *is* his pleasure. Despite him thinking he’s pressing the reset button, he can’t stay away from the magnetic pull he feels to Ellie. And ugh she’s still so cute and perfect with her little noise of displeasure and rolling of her eyes- because once again we’re at the, I can’t even be that annoyed with you because I’ve finally fully accepted that I love this stupid man beside me. Trust me honey, it’s an unfortunate situation. Get used to that emotion and accompanying facial expression. 

We interrupt this broadcast for a quick appreciation of Ellie in a turtleneck that looks 🔥 on her, Nick in an ugly jacket (please go back to leather, honey), and also Nick hilariously digging on  McGee with abuelita- I love it. Oh also appreciation for Nick standing like a total 🥵🥵 while watching McGee try to work but then saying that bit about the pictures not being flattering hahaha what a classic mix of Torres for ya right there. And oh, poor McGee, losing your touch…Tony would be disappointed. BUT THEN KASIE AND JIMMY HAVE BE HOLLERING. 

Here, hacker hacker will forever be etched into NCIS memory and a statue shall be erected for it. This is exactly what they should do Kasie thank you for your infinite wisdom. Only to be followed up by Jimmy being so pure and the entire team’s smirks ahahahahaha I can’t. I love this group of people so much. Also them coaching Jimmy and yet him also getting the girl right away, so great. But of course he’s still concerned about the fake baby he just said would be fake 🤣 oh sweet, Jimmy. 

We shall continue with no personal space in the bullpen, but this is not new, I don’t hate it- like usual. AND we about to go from “no personal space” to full on COMFORT DOMESTIC HUGGING in the bullpen where anyone and their brother could see them, like ARE YOU TWO OKAY. ARE YOU ALIVE. DO YOU REMEMBER YOU’RE SUPPOSEDLY HITTING A RESET BUTTON NICHOLAS BECAUSE IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE IT. IT LOOKS LIKE ELEANOR IS NOT LETTING YOU AND THAT’S OK WITH ME. *cue me dying in approximately 28 hours*

Only side note because honestly this is fitting for International Women’s Day - all hail Eleanor Raye Bishop in interrogation who don’t give no fucks and will lay you out with her words/tone/questions/glares. She don’t need no man to be a badass interrogator and I loooooooove it. Get it girl 🔥🔥🔥

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

cross my heart (pt.3)

spencer reid x oc

cross my heart masterlist

word count: 1103

“Pretty boy’s got his head in the clouds.” Spencer snapped out of his daydream to find the source of the teasing sing-son voice. As suspected, it had come from Derek, who had a grin plastered on his face, “thinking about someone, huh Reid?”

“I’m thinking about the case,” he said, standing from his chair to go over to the poster board and pin another crime scene photo up.

“Uh huh, sure. C’mon, man, you know you can tell me anything,” Derek said, leaning back against the table covered in files and watching Spencer take a step back to view the whole pin board, his tongue darting out over his lips before he spoke, “there must be a key component of the profile that we’re missing, or we’re wrong about.”

He sighed, “okay kid, you don't wanna talk about it, that’s fine. But you know I’m always here if you do. So, what do you think we messed up? Maybe the gender?”

Spencer glanced to his friend, giving him an small appreciative smile before getting back to work.

-

“I’m glad you’ve found a nerd friend.”

Raye rolled her eyes, setting another mug down for Tamara to dry. This was one of those nights when The Hideout was completely empty. They usually had at least three or four people in at this unreasonable hour, but for once, there was a quiet period in the cafe.

“Thanks. And he’s not a nerd. Well, maybe a little. He’s a literature nerd, that’s for sure,” Raye said, and Tamara scoffed, “says the one with a degree in the subject.”

“I mean, yeah, I am. That’s besides the point,” Raye dismissed, picking up another dish to clean, “my point is, that I need to pick a new book to give him. It’s my turn to recommend something to him, and I can’t think of anything. Head empty, no thoughts.”

Tam rolled her eyes at her friend, “oh come on, suggest one of the classics. Tell him to read fuckin’ Hamlet.”

“No, Tam! Shakespeare is boring when you’re forced to read it. I need something that’ll impress him, something that he probably hasn’t already read,” she said with a frown. Tamara sighed dramatically, “dude, I don't know! I’m a faker, okay? I talk a big talk, and I own this cafe with the books and shit, but I haven't read like any of them. They bore me. I just like the whole academia aesthetic.”

Raye snorted a laugh, washing the final dish before drying off her hands, “I get it. I like it too. I guess I’ll just go to the library and see if any inspiration strikes me. It opens in a couple of hours.”

Tamara gave her friend a look, before glancing back down to her hands. She didn't want to make her concern for her friend so obvious, because she knew that her concerns would just be dismissed. But Tamara couldn't ignore the nagging feeling, that things just weren't right. “How are you doing? With everything?”

Raye inhaled sharply, “I’m fine. Don't talk about it.”

“I just think that maybe we should, G,” she said, before raising her hands in defence at the look she got, “sorry, I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“Spencer heard you call me G that day we met. I told him it was a nickname for my middle name,” Raye mumbled, and Tamara raised a brow, “well, technically not a lie. Because it’s Giselle, right?”

“Right,” she nodded slowly, and Tamara sighed softly. The bags under her eyes were becoming more prominent every day, and they both knew it. Tamara pushed away the obvious concern, and took her attention back to their most urgent problem, “just recommend something you liked reading. That’s what he wants, right? To find out what you like, and read it?”

“I guess so, yeah,” Raye said softly, picking at her nails, “I just wanna impress him, I guess. I doubt he’ll enjoy Narnia as much as me.”

Tamara giggled, shaking her head, “you might be surprised. Doctor Reid is full of surprises, trust me.”

“Doctor?” Raye tilted her head, “i didn’t know he was a doctor.”

“Yeah, he’s got a handful of PHDs. I think one of ‘em is in math, can’t remember the rest,” Tamara said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Raye sat in silence, before shaking her head, “what can’t he do?”

“Probably cook. Or do laundry. With men, there’s always a downside, trust me. Glad I never have to get with another straight guys,” Tamara said, and Raye gave her a look, “you’re bi.”

“Yes, and? Doesn’t mean I’m gonna be running after any more fuckin’ straight dudes, no sir. Me and Ollie are very happy,” Tamara said, and Raye furrowed her brows, “I thought you guys were fighting.”

“We were. She found it odd that I suddenly had this friend from high school called Raye who I never mentioned before, and now spend so much time with.”

Raye felt guilt tug at her heart frowning, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, G- I mean, Raye. We kissed and made up. I think Ollie just got a little jealous that I had another woman in my life. You know I was always more friendly with the guys. I just never really had friends that were girls. And I never mentioned you, cause we went our separate ways after high school,” Tamara reasoned, hopping up to sit on the counter opposite where Raye stood. She just sighed, “I am sorry, though. I just barrelled into your life and now look at the consequences.”

“Shut up, you’re always welcome here. This is your home now. Where were you before this?” Tamara queried, watching as Raye sat on the counter opposite her. She took a deep breath, looking around the empty shop before answering, “California. LA, to be specific. I didn't really like it there. I liked Louisiana, everyone was so nice. Hated Florida. And Texas.”

“How many years has it been... since you’ve seen your mom?” Tamara asked cautiously, knowing it was a sore spot. But since she was slowly getting her to open up, she figured there was no harm in trying to ask. Raye flinched slightly, before murmuring, “it’s been six years.”

Tamara felt her heart hurt a little. She couldn't imagine a life without her parents, “I’m sorry. I can't imagine how hard it is. But you know, the way you're living... its not gonna be like this forever.”

Raye nodded in agreement, but deep down, they both knew that she might be wrong.

-

NEXT CHAPTER

a short, but important chapter ;)

comment and tell me what you guys think! I have so many ideas for this fic, so feedback is always appreciated!

also i was considering maybe making this a reader fic rather than an oc fic? again idk so comment or send asks if you want :)

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