#something is up. is what im trying to say.
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fueioekjfisks · 2 days ago
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Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!
I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.
But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.
Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.
Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!
And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.
But then he tries to leave.
Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.
Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.
Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.
But either way, it doesnt work.
He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.
Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.
He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.
Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.
He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.
And he is trapped.
And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.
After hes been more or less kidnapped.
He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.
And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).
but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!
Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!
He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!
He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.
Most importantly, he knows their goals
But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.
And has no idea what they want
And Danny just freezes up
This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.
You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue
I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat
Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.
And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.
I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”
JL would not be happy about any of his responses.
Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day
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mariasont · 1 day ago
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A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.
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summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying
wc: 1.9k
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You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.
But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.
So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.
Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.
He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.
Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.
"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"
"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."
"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."
You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.
"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."
You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.
"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.
"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."
You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.
He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.
"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."
You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.
"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."
Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yup, fine!"
You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.
"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."
His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.
"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."
His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.
Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.
You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.
"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"
He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.
"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."
He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.
When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.
Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.
Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.
"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."
A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.
"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."
You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.
But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.
"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"
Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.
You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.
"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."
"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"
He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.
"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."
Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.
By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.
"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.
Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.
"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."
"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.
"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"
"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."
Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.
You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."
"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."
Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.
Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"
You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."
You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.
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fear-less · 3 days ago
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she ignored my letter!
pairing: james potter x f!reader
➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.
Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever)
a/n: heyyy... i had sm fun writing this, can't wait to write the rest of this bc i literally LOVE anne with an e and this is inspired by it ofc!!!! anyways, im barely writing now..smh, its cause im reading manacled and its literally heart breaking... im also editing on ae and its so hard so im slowly learning😭 but i want to finish this mini series by next week!!
series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons
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James had liked you for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it started—maybe it was the way you laughed at his jokes, always the loudest in the room. Or perhaps it was when he’d catch you staring at him, your gaze lingering just a bit too long, thinking he was too distracted to notice.
With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, James knew he had to make a move. He had to let you know how he felt. If you didn’t feel the same, maybe the time apart over the holiday would make it less awkward. But he couldn’t let another term slip by in silence.
Knowing your love for all things old-fashioned, James decided there was no better way to confess his feelings than through a handwritten letter. It felt personal, genuine—something you’d appreciate. But writing it turned out to be harder than he imagined.
He’d written and discarded at least a dozen drafts, each one crumpled and tossed aside in frustration. Finally, after half an hour of agonizing over the perfect words, he settled on this version. It was short, straightforward, and sincere:
Dear, (Y/N)
I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. I’ve tried a hundred times, and every single attempt has been worse than the last. So here’s the truth—I’m hopelessly in love with you.
You’ve probably guessed I’m not great at being subtle. But what I’ve never been able to say outright is how much you mean to me. The way you laugh, the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating—Merlin, you make it impossible to focus on anything else. I want you to know that you’ve made me braver, happier, better. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay—I just needed to get this off my chest.
Yours, James
He sighed deeply, folding the letter carefully before slipping it into an envelope. Your name was written on the front in his slightly shaky handwriting. Taking a steadying breath, he tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. He’d leave it somewhere you’d find it tomorrow, just before you both left for the holidays.
As he lay awake that night, James tried to figure out the best way to deliver the letter. Should he hand it to you directly? No, that was too nerve-wracking—he’d probably end up babbling like an idiot. Maybe he could slip it into your bag and avoid the risk of witnessing your reaction.
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The morning was crisp, the kind of cold that painted your cheeks red and sent little clouds of breath swirling in the air. On the platform, the train sat waiting, puffing out plumes of steam that mingled with the frosty air. It was alive with the sound of students saying goodbye and dragging their luggage over the cobblestones.
James walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was doing his best to appear casual, though every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the letter in his robe.
“Let me take that for you,” he blurted suddenly, nodding toward your luggage.
You blinked, surprised by the offer, but your lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh, thanks, James. That’s really sweet of you.”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but his ears turned a telltale shade of pink at your words. “What kind of bloke would I be if I didn’t help you out?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with nervous humor.
The two of you chatted as you strolled toward the train. You told him about your plans for the holidays—how you were excited to see your family, how your mum always made far too much food, and how you couldn’t wait to decorate the tree. James listened intently, nodding and laughing at all the right moments, even as his mind raced ahead to the task at hand.
Then, his opportunity came.
You turned away for a brief moment, waving at one of your friends across the platform. James acted quickly, pulling the envelope from his pocket and slipping it into the outermost compartment of your bag. His fingers brushed the fabric for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.
His heart was hammering so loudly he was certain it could be heard over the clamor of the platform. He straightened up just as you turned back to him, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.
“Thanks again for carrying that,” you said with a smile, your eyes meeting his.
James gave a small, lopsided grin and shifted your bag on his shoulder. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside him.
As the train’s whistle blew, signaling it was time to board, James knew there was no turning back now. All he could do was wait—and hope that when you found the letter, you’d read it and understand the words that had taken him so long to say.
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It had been days since you’d left for the holidays, and James still hadn’t heard from you. Each passing day only worsened the sinking feeling in his chest.
Did you not feel the same? Did you hate him for ruining the friendship? Or worse, were you so disgusted by his confession that you couldn’t even bear to send him a letter saying so?
By Christmas morning, the knot of worry in James’s stomach had become unbearable. He’d stopped pacing and pretending not to care. He spent the early hours staring at the window, waiting for an owl that seemed as though it would never come.
But then, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed through his frosted window, he saw it—a familiar owl perched outside, clutching a small envelope in its talons. His heart leapt with a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe you’d only just found the letter. Maybe you’d taken your time because you wanted to write something perfect.
James hurried to open the window, shivering as the cold air rushed in. The owl extended its leg, allowing him to untie the letter. “Thanks, mate,” James murmured, absently offering the owl a treat before it flew off into the winter sky.
His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope, eager to see your handwriting. But his heart sank the moment he read the first line.
“Happy Christmas, James!”
No mention of his letter. No response to his confession. Just a short, cheerful note wishing him a wonderful holiday and apologizing for not writing sooner. You explained that things had been hectic at home and promised to catch up with him soon.
James felt his chest tighten, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The hope he’d been clinging to was slipping through his fingers.
You’d ignored his letter.
You’d chosen to act as though he’d never written it at all, as if he’d never poured his heart out on that piece of parchment.
James scoffed, his grip on the letter tightening. Fine, he thought bitterly. If you were going to pretend his confession didn’t exist, he could do the same.
He shoved the letter onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were the source of his frustration. Deep down, though, he knew the truth: he didn’t want to ignore you. He wanted to write back, to ask if you’d found the letter, to make sure you weren’t upset with him.
But pride was a stubborn thing, and James Potter wasn’t about to let his vulnerability show again—not now.
As the snow fell softly outside his window, James sat in silence, staring at the letter and wondering if he’d made a mistake by ever writing to you in the first place.
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When it was time to return to Hogwarts, James made no effort to find you. Normally, he’d scan the platform, pretending it was a coincidence whenever his eyes landed on you. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to look.
He saw you anyway, just briefly—standing near your family, your face lit up with that familiar smile. His heart leaped in his chest, and his legs almost betrayed him, ready to stride over and say something, anything. But he stopped himself.
Instead, James turned sharply, mumbling a quick goodbye to his parents before heading onto the train. He didn’t want to see you—not now.
The walk through the train felt heavier than usual. He knew exactly where his friends would be—the same compartment they’d claimed since their first year—but it felt like an eternity to get there. When he finally slid open the door, the familiar faces of Sirius, Remus, and Peter greeted him.
“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius called cheerfully, but his grin faltered when James slumped onto the seat next to Peter with a loud huff.
James leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Sirius’s gaze on him, curious and probing.
“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked, unable to resist.
“Don’t.” James’s voice was sharp, firm. It was rare for him to be in a foul mood, let alone snappish.
Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t say a word.”
The tension in the compartment was palpable. The train rattled on, and the usual chatter of the four friends was noticeably absent. Sirius kept stealing glances at James, who sat brooding, arms crossed. Peter fidgeted nervously, while Remus flipped through a book, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.
Finally, about an hour into the ride, James broke.
“She ignored my letter.” His voice was low, bitter, but it shattered the quiet like a hex.
The others exchanged looks before Peter spoke hesitantly. “She really ignored it?”
“Yes, Peter,” James snapped, his tone sharp enough to make Peter flinch. Realizing what he’d done, James sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Remus offered, his tone calm and rational. “What if it got lost in her luggage? Or someone else found it and hid it? Maybe you gave her another piece of parchment? There’s always a chance—”
“Moony, no.” James cut him off, his voice strained. “I double-checked. It was the right letter, in the right spot. And who doesn’t check their trunk full of clothes over the holiday?”
“Maybe she doesn’t,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, women can be unpredictable. Maybe she’s got a secret stash for random letters in her trunk.”
“No, she checks,” James said with certainty. “I’ve slipped plenty of things into her luggage before, and she’s always found them. She just doesn’t fancy me back.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he forced a small, bitter smile. “And it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I always do, right?”
The compartment fell silent again, the weight of James’s words sinking in.
Sirius leaned forward, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not fine, James. If she didn’t fancy you back, that’s one thing. But ignoring you? That’s—”
“Don’t,” James interrupted quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Don’t make it worse, Padfoot.”
Sirius bit back a retort and leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath.
The rest of the ride passed more comfortably, but the shadow of James’s disappointment lingered. His friends cracked jokes and told stories, trying to lift his spirits, but even when he laughed, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Deep down, James wondered if he’d ever stop wishing that you’d read his letter and felt the same way.
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Hours later, everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling reflected the dusky evening sky, and the buzz of students catching up after the holiday filled the room. Normally, James would sit with Sirius to his left, you to his right, and Remus and Peter across from him. It was a familiar arrangement, one you’d fallen into without question.
But tonight, James broke the routine.
He subtly nudged Peter into the spot on his right before sitting down, leaving the space where you’d usually sit conspicuously empty.
You walked in a moment later, scanning the Gryffindor table until you spotted your usual group. But when you approached, your steps faltered. Peter sat where you always did, looking apologetic but saying nothing.
Your eyes darted to James, silently questioning him, but he avoided your gaze, his attention fixed stubbornly on his plate.
Confused, you looked to Remus for an explanation. Out of all the Marauders, he was the one you trusted most to give you a straight answer. But Remus only shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at discomfort.
You scoffed, your chest tightening. First, James ignored you all through the holiday, and now he didn’t even want to sit near you? Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, you weren’t going to beg for his attention.
Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked further down the table, sliding into a seat beside your other group of friends. You forced yourself to laugh at their jokes and join in their chatter, but your mind kept wandering back to James.
At the Gryffindor table, James’s eyes flicked toward you more often than he’d admit. Every time he saw you laughing with your friends, his stomach twisted.
“Why is she acting like I’m the one in the wrong?” James muttered under his breath, jabbing at a piece of roast potato with his fork.
“Maybe because you’re acting like a prat?” Sirius replied, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned closer.
James shot him a glare.
“Look, Prongs,” Sirius continued, dropping the teasing. “She doesn’t know what’s going on. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain, and now you’re sulking like a first-year who lost his chocolate frog cards.”
“Explain what? She ignored my letter, Padfoot. What’s there to explain?” James hissed, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.
Remus sighed, setting down his goblet. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn’t even know what letter you’re talking about?”
James froze, his fork hovering mid-air.
“Just talk to her, mate,” Sirius said, giving James a nudge. “Or don’t. But if you keep this up, you’re only making it worse—for both of you.”
James huffed, slumping back in his seat. The truth was, he didn’t know if he had it in him to face you just yet.
From across the hall, you caught the way James’s shoulders sagged, and for a brief moment, you considered walking over. But pride held you in place. If James wanted to act like this, fine. Two could play that game.
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You and James hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. The once effortless connection you shared had been replaced with an awkward silence that weighed heavily on you. It wasn’t just James—it felt like the whole group of Marauders had grown distant, their usual antics and inside jokes missing their spark when you were around.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something to upset him. But what? You racked your brain for answers, replaying every interaction from the past few months. James had always been one of your closest friends—why was he acting so strange?
Charms class was the hardest part of it all. You always sat beside James, sharing notes, exchanging whispers, and stifling laughs when Professor Flitwick wasn’t looking. Now, you sat in the same spot, the chair next to you glaringly empty.
You tried to focus on the professor’s instructions, but your thoughts were louder than his voice. Scribbling aimlessly in your notebook, you hardly noticed when someone approached your desk.
“Are you alright?”
Startled, you looked up to see a boy with a blue-and-bronze tie standing beside you. His face was vaguely familiar—you’d seen him around in class but had never spoken to him.
“Yeah—yes, I’m fine,” you stammered, blinking in confusion. Why was he talking to you?
He gave a polite, slightly amused smile. “Well, can you move your stuff? I’m sitting here now. We’re partners for the project.”
“Oh!” Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurriedly shoved your books to one side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize.”
“No worries,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. “I figured you weren’t paying attention—no offense. But I was, so I’ll explain what Professor Flitwick said.”
You managed a small smile, relieved by his casual tone. “Thanks. That’s… helpful.”
While he began outlining the project details, your focus wavered, glancing at James out of the corner of your eye. He was across the room, seated next to a loud and enthusiastic partner who seemed to be trying desperately to get his attention. But James wasn’t listening.
His gaze was fixed on you.
There was a flicker of something in his expression—jealousy, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was, it made your stomach twist.
You quickly turned your attention back to your new partner, nodding along to his explanation, even if you weren’t entirely listening. You felt James’s eyes on you the entire time, but you refused to look back.
Across the room, James’s jaw clenched. His partner waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.
“Oi, Potter! Are you even listening?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure,” James muttered, though his eyes drifted back to you moments later.
He hated this—seeing someone else sitting beside you, making you smile when that used to be his seat, his job. But he didn’t know how to fix it. The letter. The silence. The way he’d avoided you. It all felt too big now, too messy to undo.
Still, James couldn’t stop watching you, his heart sinking further with every laugh you shared with your new partner.
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hoonieyun · 3 days ago
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this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡
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days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+
hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!
𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia
@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee
heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ
it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you. 
were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this? 
was it worth it to lose the person you love? 
you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right. 
why were you being so annoying?
but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.
were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard? 
if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own? 
why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…
you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it. 
so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things. 
“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands. 
both of you knew the answer to that. 
“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee… 
i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized… 
why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me? 
for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself. 
heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you. 
we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung. 
“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can. 
“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us? 
are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all. 
“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling. 
“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight? 
hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you. 
i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain. 
“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions. 
“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”
“bye, heeseung.”
jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ
jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore. 
so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you? 
he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good. 
“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left. 
“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you. 
you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now. 
i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it. 
he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise. 
jay wished that he did keep his promise to you. 
when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night. 
but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party. 
you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them. 
you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right? 
“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters. 
“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you. 
i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it. 
i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late. 
“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.
“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile. 
“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved. 
jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ
in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.
it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right? 
you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you. 
you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did. 
it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.
the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you. 
but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone. 
“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 
“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. ���wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged. 
“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him. 
“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him. 
jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong. 
“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way. 
jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing. 
that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag. 
“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back. 
needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back. 
you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved. 
not then, not now, and not ever.
sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ
sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you. 
he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon. 
sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion. 
was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you? 
sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you. 
in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you. 
“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there. 
“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-
look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad. 
i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself. 
i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever. 
you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became. 
you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing. 
“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way… 
because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you. 
sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me. 
i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-
i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve. 
and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face. 
“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day. 
sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life. 
copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 days ago
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do you see anyone other than me? (baby please) | rafayel (lnds)
✮ tags ; rafayel x fem+ afab!reader, established relationships, dom!reader, sub!rafayel, gentle femdom, oral (m!recieving + some f!recieving), anal (m!recieving), praise kink (so much), dirty talk (SO much),pegging / topping, top!reader, bottom!rafayel dry orgasms 18+
✮ wc ; 6.9k (come on man)
✮ a/n ; reader and mc do not share a personality in this. reader is intentionally meant to have like... a more serious personality. so they are mc but not at the same time if that makes sense sdkjskj.
also i know this guy but only a little bit. i was planning on binging the main story after caleb got released but got ?? caught up writing this?? this has happened twice im so scared
✮ synopsis ; making sure rafayel actually forgives you is at the top of your priorities.
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When you come home  from the office, take your shoes off, and turn the corner into the living room—you know without looking that Rafayel is in a mood.  
Not a good one.  
It’s something in the air, a lingering tension that makes all movement stiff as you attempt to navigate through the unease. You find Rafayel on the couch. Soft, deep lavender waves tussled like he’s been tossing and turning - pressed into the side of the couch. All curled up small.  
Somehow, you just know what sort of attitude you’ll be met with. You know your lover well enough to know that he’ll be moody but you’ve less confidence in regards to what that mood may be.  
Taking a deep breath, you step into the wide expanse of Rafayel’s living room and studio. His head turns, bangs falling in his face as you slide your work bag off from your shoulder to set aside. Your keys, noisy as you set them down, even gently—trying to leave the air undisturbed. He’s looking at you from over his shoulder but realizes he can’t completely see you that way. Instead of standing to his feet to come greet you, he drops his head back on the arm of the couch to stare at you upside down in a tense silence.  
You give him a look. His mood is sour. Maybe more than you thought. He smiles first, then frowns unhappily before turning his attention back to what he was doing. You hear small scratching noises—he’s sketching. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there doing that, since he usually just prefers to paint without thinking too hard.  
After that, he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t greet you, either.  
“I’m home.” You say evenly. You think about being placating from the jump, but without knowing his exact reason - you worry you’ll only worsen the state of affairs.  
Rafayel hums. “Welcome home.”  
Your brain wracks through every possibility on what could be the source of this level of moodiness. Sometimes, his moody behavior is for kicks but it’s not this time. If it was, he’d lay it on thickly. Act theatrically towards you, get in your face about it. 
But he’s tense, forceful—every scratch of his pencil is too harsh like it’s rife with irritation. You tread carefully.  
“Can I sit with you?”  
“Why are you asking? Don’t you live here too? Just because I bought the couches with my money doesn’t mean—“  
“Rafayel.” You say, interrupting him. He scowls at you. “Can I?”  
As if more bothered by you being level, he huffs. It’s followed with a business smile over his shoulder. “Sure. Do whatever you want.”  
You choose to sit on the empty end of the couch where Rafayel does his sketching - fitting yourself in the gap of his space near his feet. You slide yourself in then gently lift his legs into your lap. Rafayel gives you a look when you do this, clearly debating on whether or not he should reject your act of goodwill. Ultimately he stays. 
Notably, while his pencil is still scratching on paper - you think by this point he’s not really sketching anything at all.  
“I got off of work late,” You explain. You rest your hands on his calf gently. “There was an incident near the station but it was a false alarm so I ended up being cleared.”  
“Oh? Is that so?”  
Warm, you think. You nod.  
“There’s been a lot of Metaflux increases in the residential districts close to our headquarters. It’s odd.” You explain. Rafayel is quiet, looking at his nails disinterested. You go on, not taking offense. “Strange as it is, there’s been no active threats. Still, given the location, it needs a lot of man power to be investigated.”  
Rafayel sits quietly, unreadable. You continue on. “So it’s been busy. I think we’ve cleared the level of threat, so another team will probably take over soon.”  
“Hm.” Rafayel says, a petulant edge to his voice. Warmer. “So that’s why you’ve been so late this week. I guess it’s good that nothing happened. It must’ve been difficult, so difficult if you could barely spend time with your one and only lover. But I guess it’s fine, it’s not like there’s anything you can do in that circumstances. Well, you could’ve done a lot but if it didn’t occur to you there’s nothing to be said, then again—why would it—“  
Hot. “Rafayel.”  
“What.” 
“I’m sorry for being late,” You say.  
A beat. His frown deepens.  
“And?”  
You pause before answering, smiling apologetically. “For not keeping in contact with you more.”  
Some of the life returns to him. You’ve deduced the source of his bad mood, which means the only thing left is to alleviate it. You don’t like seeing him upset. He’s quick to forgive you, always optimistic and trying to keep your relationship lighthearted.  
But there is an underlying desire in him that makes you more conscious about any minor infringements. Despite himself, Rafayel is more concerned about you liking him than he’ll ever let on in  his life. Even when he’s upset, he’ll forgive you - but the feelings linger until they explode. When he gets like that, it’s much harder to comfort him.  
It’ll fester if you don’t apologize properly. You know him well enough to know that and you love him well enough to not want to see when disaster strikes.  
(Plus, there’s something about the way he’s still pouting. He’s trying to relax, but it’s there. It’s cute to you. It makes you want to kiss it better.) 
“I’m sorry,” You offer. You reach for the hand resting in his lap and he lets you take it, though it’s limp. You press a kiss to the back of it, eyes full of affection. “I’m not used to having someone wait for me,”  
Rafayel makes another face at you, unreadable. “Not just anyone.”  
You laugh lightly. “That’s true.”  
Squeezing his hand tighter, you kiss it one more time. “Can I make it up to you…?” 
“I don’t know. Can you?”  
“I’d like to,” You offer, another kiss - just higher on back of his hand. Closer towards his wrist. “Whatever you wanted.”  
“Whatever I want is a tempting offer, Miss Bodyguard. What a talent for bargaining you have, indeed. Maybe you should try bidding a one of my auctions, just to see.” 
“I’d bid too high off the bat. I’d go bankrupt,” You tease back, a sweet lilt to your voice that makes Rafayel’s eyes shimmer, fond of your wit. “Would you be willing to keep me if I gave it all up that way, I wonder?”  
“Since it was for me, I could consider being merciful.”  
You give him sincere but small smile and Rafayel seems to warm up seeing it. He can be coy, even playful about his affection but there’s something about him today that feels more shy then it does anything else. 
“If I can ask for whatever I want,” Rafayel starts. “Maybe we could start with paying back your dues. After all you owe me your full undivided attention after your week of neglect.” 
“That’s easy.” You say, charming. Rafayel makes a face at you that makes you want to laugh. “I wanted to give you that anyway. Is that all?”  
“Are you telling me to be more demanding? You think that’s a wise choice?”  
“If it makes you happy, I’ll play the fool.”  
It’s corny, deliberately not something you’d say to anyone else or at any other time. Something that Rafayel might say to you in a different circumstance, so in a way you’ve simply beat him to the punch. He goes through several feelings, each passing over his expression. Amusement to disbelief to embarrassment even he can’t cover up too easily. 
Great risk comes with great reward. Yours is a smiling Rafayel, boyish and amused. Color returned to him, a playful air of mischief about him.  
“Well if you’re that desperate to make it up to me, then I guess I could try to forgive you. Gosh, you must be so desperate if you’re willing to act this way. You’ve totally fallen for me, haven’t you?”  
Yes, you think. Too much of that at once and he’ll get shy again. You’ll have plenty of coaxing to do later so you keep the thought to yourself. You smile at him instead. “So, you’ve anymore demands for me, my liege?”  
Rafayel hums before breaking out into a grin. “Hmm. For now, just one.” He offers you his hand. “Take me upstairs.”  
__  
Rafayel has a way about him, with you and only you, that makes you especially weak to his advances.  
Whatever those advances are, however taxing on you they may be—there’s so rarely a time where you can tell him no. He likes having that much influence over you, no matter what his particular mood is. If he’s feeling the desire to keep you under his thumb or be at your mercy. Whats central to him in each instance is that he has the full breadth of your attention, your desire, and most importantly—your lacking will to resist.  
You like it all because you like Rafayel. Like how it feels trying to hold onto him as  he slips between your fingers.  
If someone asked you what you like most, though - it’d be this.  
Not quite at your mercy but expectant of your devotion. Crystalline eyes and long, straight lashes blinking up at you with unwitting demand, crowding around you mercilessly. A gaze that weakens you, disarms you, demands your propriety.  
“What are you thinking about?”  
His words come out more annoyed than he wants them to. Your eyes come back into focus to Rafayel on top of you, in your lap as you lean against the headboard. His weight settled like he’s something that fits there perfectly and he does. Your hand reaches for his lower back, eyes tracing down the damp skin. Button shirt opened just loose enough to catch glimpse of his collarbones, with only boxers underneath. Your hands run down his sides, smooth down his bare thighs - mesmerized by cream colored skin that begs for blemishes. 
His expression bewitches you even when your mind had prepared you for it. You smile almost lazily, drawing him just a little closer to you until your noses touch. “Of you.”  
He scoffs at you. “Is that so? Not that you have no reason to think about your perfect, darling lover—it’s just that it seems like he’s the last thing on your mind these days, so you know,-“ 
You kiss him. It’s only partially to shut him up. It’s mostly because him talking makes you look at the shape of his mouth, the curve of his lips—the way he’s pouting at you. It’s almost too much. You part after a minute, careful not to deepen the kiss.  
He has something to say after the fact, dazed - hands on your shoulders trying to give himself the room to speak before you kiss him again.  
But you don’t relent. You kiss him harder, a hand around the back of his neck - slipping your tongue against his lips in the way you like. He doesn’t concede. You’re not really expecting him to. He kisses back even harder like he’s trying to prove a point - teeth digging into your lower lip. A little too sharp for human, but perfect for him.  
You pull away breathless. A hand still on the nape of his neck, sliding around enough to feel his pulse under your thumb. Thump, thump, thump—rabbit quick. You smile at him suggestively, proving him displeased.  
“Don’t interrupt me. Trying to kiss me when I’m airing out my complaints is unprofessional and rude, I’ll have you know.” 
“I’m sorry,” Your lips brush his jawbone. “It’s hard to think about talking when you’re half-naked on top of me.”  
“You can be so vulgar. It’s shocking. You’re usually all serious and about work and then sometimes you look like a dog waiting to be told it can have the treat on it’s nose,” Rafayel says airily. Fake haughty, voice colored with coyness. You look up at him. “Does it really count as making it up to me if all you’re doing is lusting after me?”  
You don’t deny him at face value. “You set the standard. You tell me. Do you feel like I’m still making it up to you or should I work  a little harder?”  
There’s something between you. A spark of electricity that fizzles and pops, tension deepening. Rafayel likes playing tug of war with you. Even though he’s expecting to be pampered - there’s nothing easy about letting him. But it works when you keep yourself even. Eager. Having your desire and lust for him out in the open gives him the power again and he likes that, even when it’s mostly pretend.  
“Work harder. You have to earn your paycheck Miss Bodyguard.” He says. You laugh a little, sitting up a little straighter.  
“Yes boss,” You reply. You lean forward, pulling his weight down as your hands slide underneath the loose, flowy button up. Your hands find his waist, holding his sides before gliding them up on the planes of his back. He’s got lean muscle, a swimmers build that feels tight to the touch.  
You kiss him on the lips again, tongue sweeping against his lower lip. Rafayel playfully rejects it when you do. You pull away one hand to cup the back of his neck and force the kiss deeper, tongue pressing the closed seam of his lips until he yield and lets you. He melts at the gesture rather  unwittingly, the softest little whimper sounding as you feel your tongues touch. It’s a wet, hot kiss. Mouth sticky with spit and saliva.  
“I’m working hard so you shouldn’t be too hard on me,” You say playfully. Rafayel rolls his hips, makes a noise for you as he huffs. “I want to make you feel good.”  
“You’re—“  
You interrupt him again. Not with a kiss on his mouth this time, but a chaste one to the very corner of of it - trailing down the soft curve of his jawline. You make the pressure on his neck featherlight. Thin skin prone to being sensitive, he melts at the soft touch. Cranes his neck up subconsciously to give you access to it. In the spirit of pampering him, you bite at the skin with a genuine hunger. Marking each bruise with a kiss first, you sink your teeth into him without remorse. Incisors scraping the delicate area before you suck hard, broken capillaries throbbing underneath your tongue when you lick them after the fact. 
 Deep, deep shades of red and purple bloom all over the column of his throat. It doesn’t feel like enough to you still.  
“My neck hurts from all your biting.” His voice comes out in wet pants, betraying the sentiment. You laugh warmly at his attempt to diverge.  
“Does it? Should I be gentler, then?” You offer. After you feel like you’ve marked his neck enough, you press another feather-light kiss right where his adams apple sits. Another on his clavicle. When it gets to his collarbone - you don’t do anything more than brush your lips.  
Rafayel whines. It’s a throaty sound that makes your whole body break out into a shiver. Such a pleasant sound on the ears that your mind pictures instantly what other sounds he might make if you just had your way with him. It uncovers a selfish part of you. You could flip him over on your bed and take him if you wanted. Fuck him until he sings as punishment maybe for being tempting like a siren drawing a lone sailor into deep waters.  
You keep the thoughts to yourself, and keep your composure. You ask again instead. “Come on. Tell me. Do you want me to touch you more gently?”  
He fusses in your lap. You grin. “What’s the point in being gentle now if you’re being so rough to begin with? The change would be just weird, you know.”  
“I guess it would,” You let yourself lick the same places you just kissed. You bite then hard enough to leave a mark and Rafayel arches himself into it. “It’s better like this then, right? If I leave marks all over you, then maybe you’ll feel less lonely when I get busy again.”  
“I should get to leave them on you too. Your memory isn’t as sharp as it used to be. A physical reminder might do you some good, yes.”  
His voice is trembling, despite himself. You pull away to look up at him, and catch sight of a fragility you sometimes forget he’s capable of. Brows drawn into a furrow, lips pulled into a pout. Like a wound reopened inside of him that he’s so desperate to cauterize but can’t. You want to kiss the lines between his brows and get on your knees for it. A proof of your affection.  
“I’m sorry for being careless,” You say, sincere. Rafayel looks ready to quiet you, concerned about the mood but you proceed anyhow. You lift his shirt up and hold it to his mouth, and he bites without your instruction. Bare chest exposed to him, you flit your gaze to his face. “I can’t do anything but try to beg your forgiveness. Still,”  
You kiss his sternum, your hands on his waist. You fingers trail down his sides, hands sliding back up to chest. His nipples are hard, damp skin cool to the touch. Your warm him with your fingers, rolling over the sensitive tips. Rafayel makes a muffled noise, his cock twitching responsively.  
“All I ever really think about is you,” You say. Rafayel gives you a long, unreadable look as you toy with his chest. “I’m not the type to half-ass things so my thoughts always revolve around you. Finishing work to come home to you. If you’ve eaten or if you locked yourself in the studio to paint all day. If we should go somewhere together on my day off.”  
You lean forward and stick your tongue out, taking his nipples into your mouth. You roll the other one with your hand to increase the pleasure - content as you watch his face begin to flush. He watches you so closely, the tips of his ears burning a bright red. You suck hard, wetting them with saliva before you take them gently between your teeth and tugging.  
“I’m not good at balancing work with play. I’m also not very friendly so you’re the only person I’ve ever spent so much time dating” You hum, nuzzling his skin. “I’m sure down the line it’ll be harder. But, if it helps, it’s true that my heads always filled with you.”  
Your hands grip his waist, pushing his hips forward slightly as you suck and bite his chest again. A line of saliva connects you both as you pull away - teethmark indentations in their place.  
“I want to make you feel good,” You maneuver Rafayel until he’s underneath you. His expression reads as overwhelmed but the faint blush blooming all over his skin and the hazy look in his eyes makes you confident he’s feeling more than just uncertainty. More like restlessness. A desire to be touched as he lays on his back with you looming over him. “And to touch you everywhere.”  
You lean into him, trailing kisses down the his chest. You can feel his pulse quicken again as you touch him, spreading his legs as you put your thumb inside the waistband of his boxers.  
Like this, he looks especially enchanting. The sleeves of his shirt pulled over his palms, button-up bunched up underneath his chin, and tight gray boxer briefs snug around his hips. Your bedroom, dimly lit, casting shadow on the sinewy muscle. His chest heaves with anticipation, stomach tense as your lips trace a path down from chest to navel. Excitement wracks through his body.  
You put a hand on his stomach and look up at him. “I want to leave my mark on all of it. I want your body to remember I felt this deep inside of you and shiver. You’ll be able to think of me half as much as I think of you.”  
Rafayel heaves, eyes glossed over. “Shit, you’re so unfair. It’s like you have two personalities or something. Are you tricking me? Is it actually you in there?”  
You smile a little, pleased by his reply.  
You follow your instinct, sliding his boxers off and tossing them somewhere. Rafayel is hard. So hard it looks like it hurts. The tip of his cock is ruddy, wet with pre-cum and swollen. His dick is long. Stands up with a straight curve. You breathe on it, making Rafayel flinch with anticipation. Your eyes flicker up to his face, terrible pout betraying his feigned moodiness..  
“Don’t tease me,” He voices. Arousal strikes through you like hot iron at the whine of his voice. Almost pitiful.  
“Not today,” You promise. 
You making yourself comfortable between Rafayel’s legs, sticking your tongue out to taste him. He smells like soap and skin, but the scent is still so arousing. Your head is heavy with it, senses suffocating, hands stabilizing themselves by grabbing hold of his thighs. Rafayel looks near overwhelmed from even the slightest touch. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be so quiet. Almost meek. He must be aching for you more than he lets on.  
You let his cock rest against your face, nuzzling it with your cheek. His cock responds sweetly to the lewd act. He lets out a sigh about, subtly trying to shimmy away from the touch. Unable to win against your grip, he sinks back into the bed and takes a long breath.  
“Keep your eyes on me,”   
In the business of spoiling him, you leave your teasing to a minimum. You gather spit in your mouth and spit it onto his cock with force - relishing the his breath hitches. How his eyes widen just slightly. You stroke his shaft with a tight grip, bringing your head down suck lightly below the shaft of his cock. His head falls back again, mouth open in a silent plea.  
Rafayel keens for you when you work him with the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You use your hands to fondle him while you shift your attention to his length. Your lips placing hot kisses up until they stop at the slit - tongue dipping into and tasting precum. Salty and warm. You wet your lips again and brush them against his cock - watching the way his expression shifts at the sensation, lightly sucking as you build yourself up having him in your mouth.  
He pitches his hips with desperation that spurs you to give him more pleasure. You open wide to take his cock into your mouth. The weight of it feels good. Arousal clouds your mind as you hollows your cheeks and stick your tongue out over your lip. He’s throbbing so hard it makes you lightheaded.  
A minute passes as you just hold him in your mouth, getting your jaw used to the sensation before you put in work in making him feel good. Like steel over your velvet, you use your tongue to lap at the sensitive skin while spitting and drooling. You’re making a mess. The room echoes with the filthy noise of you swallowing and choking on Rafayel’s cock.  
“Oh, fuck.” 
Your eyes flicker up to Rafayel, trying not to crack a smile at the state of disarray he’s in. His expression is so twisted from pleasure. All of his features reflective of it. His blush seems to creep down even further the longer you go. Your body gradually heats up, core throbbing as you take him down. Take him slowly into the narrow canal of your throat, eyes watering.  
You ease yourself down the very base - nose pressed against his navel, tongue over your lip. Rafayel’s fingers curl into the sheets underneath you trying not to buck his hips.  
“Get off of me, I’ll cum.” He says, almost panicked. “Your throat feels so good. Y-your mouth is so hot and it’s making me feel so good, can’t—I can’t. You gotta get off or—”  
His words of protest fall on deaf ears as you spread his legs even further. Wanting to make him feel better, you part them. 
 You’re greeted by pretty pink hole - already wet for you. A stream of spit follows as you pull off him. 
 Rafayel heaves in relief.  
“You got yourself ready,” You say, less than ask. Rafayel rolls his eyes.  
“So what if I did?” 
“I wanted to do it for you.” You reply, pretending to sulk. “Told you I wanted to spoil you.”  
He blushes further. “Don’t you have any sensibility? You’re doing more than enough. Being excessive, even.”  
“I don’t believe in being excessive when it comes to you,” You hum. Sitting up, you reach over the bedside table for a bottle of lube. You pour it in excess on your two fingers before coming back down between his legs. The bed creaks under your weight.  
Lube drips from your two fingers onto Rafayel’s hole, thick as you push the excess with two fingers. Both go in so smoothly it makes you smirk. He’s soft inside. It’s so easy for you to put both fingers inside of him, even easier to find his prostate - swollen from arousal. He must’ve fucked himself open like this on three fingers given how easily yours follow.  
“It’s so wet inside. You must’ve really wanted me to fuck you.”  
“So what if I—aah—did?”  
“Well, I wanted to take you apart nice and slow.” You say, slowly rubbing your fingers against his prostate, pleased by the little oh noises he makes when you. Cum spills from the tip immediately. He’s so sensitive. You divulge your plans to him as you stretch him. “First with my mouth once or twice.  I was going to save fucking you for the end  but—“ You push your fingers deeper. To the knuckle. His eyes shoot wide open before his voice breaks into a moan. “Since I’m making it up to you you, I was wondering if I should just cut the chase and make you cum on my cock over and over and over. Maybe you’d prefer that.”  
Rafayel’s eyes go wide. You feel a sense of accomplishment knowing without him telling you. He clears his throat, strangely sheepish.  
“It’s not like the other stuff feels bad or anything—“  
You make eye contact with him, sitting up on your knees. Your other hand cups the back of his neck as you press a third finger inside - fucking it in slowly. Rafayel moans unabashedly as you do. His skin is feverish as you press your forehead to his, noses brushing. The wet sound of you stretching him open makes you dizzy, shared breaths between you filling worsening your appetite for him.   
“It’s not what you want though, is it? Not today anyway.” You say, leaning close enough to kiss. You don’t follow through, your voice low on a whisper. “Tell me how you were picturing me fucking you in the shower. I’ll give you whatever you want today,”  
Rafayel seems to let go of the last threads of fight in him as you approach like this. You’re in the thick of your wanting for him. Your body and your mind hunger to make it feel so good it looks like carnage to everyone else. To be pleasured so ruthlessly he can barely move 
He’s rarely too shy but right now he’s in the depths of his desires. He moans sweetly like this. It’s not a sound you can coax out of him easily. It sounds so perfect still. Mouth fallen open, his hands finding purchase in the back of your shirt.  
“Want you to fuck me deeply,” He pants, like it’s straining to even thinking about it. “N-not too fast, but not too slow either. Want you, hngh,” Shivering, he tries to speak coherently as your eyes meet - lips barely touching but almost. “To p-praise me and—“  
You grin. “You want to pampered while I fuck this pretty little hole, right?”  
You push your fingers in harder. He whimpers. It’s loud and broken and makes grip on you tighter. He just nods. “Please. Fuck, please - need it now. In me, please.”  
It’s exactly the words you’re interested in hearing. You kiss him on the lips deeply. He sinks completely into the touch, malleable under your fingertips.  
“Shh, I know.” You hum, soothingly. Rafayel whines from the loss of contact as you pull your hand away.“You earned it. Just a little more.” 
You stand up again on your knee, stripping yourself of the remaining garments left on your body from the work day. You unhook your bra and take it off along with your tank top in one go, tossing it somewhere on the floor. 
Next come your slacks, tight from the way you’ve tucked silicone cock up against your stomach to be ready to fuck. You put it on earlier while he bathed - tucking it in your pants to keep it out of the way. Seeing you unzip your work slacks and have a heavy silicone cock fall from them evokes a reaction in Rafayel that endears you endlessly. A bitten lip while a shiver wracks through him. 
Deciding your pants will get in the way, you make quick work of wriggling out of them completely before returning between Rafayel’s legs. You spit in your hand and stroke yourself with it, wetting your cock before letting it rest against Rafayel’s own. 
“How do you want it?” You ask.  
“Like this,” He says, unmoving. He seems certain on that end but he’s hesitating. “But I want you to…” 
He looks away. You try not to grin but fail.  
“You were being so bold a second ago,”  
He rolls his eyes. “Well a second ago someone was trying to rearrange my insides so I didn’t have to think very hard,”  
“So, should I do it again, then? I think we’ll get better results that way.”  
“You’re so noisy. I don’t pay you for this,” He pauses. “I want you to hug me while we… like be close to me.” 
You pause before smiling gently. You’re so charmed by the innocence of it. It’s so unlike him. Being away from you must’ve bothered him more than he cared to admit. Softening, instantly - you lean forward and press your lips to his forehead.  
“Sure. Anything else?”  
“Ugh. Not for now. But it’s annoying. I should be running you into the ground by now but here you are,” 
“Making good on my promise?,” You finish. Rafayel doesn’t refute you. You kiss his shoulder blade. “Anything you want today. I’m yours.”  
“Say it again,”  
“All yours.”  
He wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you down. “…Hurry up and fuck me then.”  
Complying with his wishes, you sit back on your knees as you line your cock up with Rafayel’s entrance and push. He gasps as you slide the fat head of your cock in, a wicked smile on your face as you watch his hole stretch out and around you. Three fingers is more than enough prep. It makes filling him so easy.  
Still, the stretch - the feeling of being full is nothing like just fingers. You watch as Rafayel’s body adjusts to  it. Inch by inch, you rock your hips forward gently until he’s swallowed your cock up half-way. He’s trembling as you lean forward. Waiting for you to bottom out before he pulls you forward for as much skin to skin as he can have. Your chest squishes against him.  
When his hips roll for you to go deeper, you take it as a sign. With all of your strength, you hold onto his waist bury yourself inside of him in another single thrust. His nails dig into your shoulder, his voice next to your ear as you. Tightening his grip, he cries out at the sudden movement 
You can feel him shake underneath you, cock clenching hard while you hold him.  
“Fuuck,”  He goes stone stiff underneath you before starting to tremor more violently. “Fuck, oh fuck.”  
Realization dawns on you a few seconds later. “Did—did you cum just from putting it in?”  
He opens his eyes and frowns at you.  
“Shut up. I didn’t get to cum earlier.”  
You laugh. “You’ll kill me being this cute. I don’t know what to do.”  
“I could give you an idea if you’re going to just sit there,”  
His impatience amuses you.  
“Sorry. I’ve got you. Cum as much as you want.”  
You anchor yourself, pulling out slowly and internally groaning at the resistance as you do. How his hole grips onto you so tight it feels nearly hard to move despite know how stretched he is. A phantom sensation fills your waist as you feel his stomach shift as you thrust.  
Heeding earlier requests, you use your hips to set a pace to fuck Rafayel the way he wants. The ins and outs of his body come naturally to you now. Finding the right pace, the right motion, the right angle - all come easier to you than you even remember. On muscle memory, you hike Rafayel’s legs up and begin to fuck him deep. Not too fast, not too slow - but consistent in grinding against that sweet spot. Deliberately thrusting your hips up, you try to direct all the remaining focus into fucking him as good as you can.  
You know you’ve hit the right places when his grip on you gets tighter. His legs locked around your back, Rafayel is a mess underneath you even when you’ve barely begun. Like he can’t stop cumming, his body helplessly wound as your hips clap his ass.  
The moans that come out of him, broken and sweet. More angelic then pornographic but lewd enough to make you dizzy with the urge to pin him up and fuck him harder. Groaning when you fuck him just right. You can feel his cock against your stomach with how close your bodies are as you grind - twitching. Pre-cum leaking in long spurts and wetting your skin. 
You coo at him feeling it start to be easier to fuck him.  
“It’s just like a pussy, huh? You take me so good inside of you. It feels like you were made for it,” You press kisses wherever your lips can find the skin. On his face, his mouth, on his shoulders. You can barely make sense of your own filth, your mind moving on it’s own as your body chases its own arousal. Your clit is grinding against the base of your strap-on so well like this, you could easily chase the high and find your own orgasm with seconds. You’re too busy paying attention to make well on it. “I like when you act cute like this. Usually you’d put up a fight about it but you’re asking without fuss. It’s precious seeing you fall apart on my cock.”  
He moans your name like an incantation, another dribble of cum spilling. He can’t stop cumming. Just shuddering beneath you, his face in your shoulder and panting like he can’t find the words.  
“All mine, yeah? Everything, all of you. It’s all mine to tend to, so you can be as selfish as you want.” You hum, encouraged by the whimpering repetition of please in his voice. He’s being so pliant, so good. You can’t help yourself. “Take when you need. Cum when it feels good for you. I want you to feel good. Want to make you feel so good you can’t stand it. Think you can do that? Come on,”  
Rafayel moans brokenly into your neck. “I’m g-gonna cum so hard, fuck—feels like I can’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me,” 
“Shh it’s okay. I wont stop until you tell me.” You tuck yourself against his neck, kissing it before biting his ear lobe. He gasps. “Don’t think about anything other than cumming for me.”  
“Fuck,” His nails dig into your biceps, coiling you around as you get close. “Fuck me. P-please—I’m cumming, I’m cu -“  
Rafayels whole body stiffens under the weight of your body. You fuck him steady, pinning him down as he cums. His cock pushes hard against your stomach, twitching helplessly as his cum spills in streams. His back curls up, gripping onto you tightly as he moans loud and unabashed, euphoria splintering through his muscles. You fuck him through it until he rides out his high - his body loosening up as soon as it passes.  
The sound of cum unsticking from your skin as you part from Rafayel makes you grin. You pull back out of slowly and get on your knees. You use your hand to wipe the cum off of your stomach and smear it against Rafayel’s hole.  
“You made a mess,” You say brightly. Rafayel pants, looking up at you. Before you can ask, his voice trembles. He weakly reaches for your hand.   
“Let me make you finish,” He says, abrupt. You blink at him owlishly. “Please.”  
“Isn’t this about you?”  
He frowns, looking at you seriously.  
“It is. And I’m telling you I want you sit on my face and cum on it. Please.”  
You give him a look before breaking out into a laugh. You stand onto your knees and undo the buckles of your harness - shimmying out of them. “I can’t refuse you if you ask like that but I don’t think it’ll be long.”  
“It’ll just be once for now,”  
“For now?”  
He nods matter-of-factly. “You still owe me after the crimes of neglect you’ve committed against me.”  
“Right.”  
“And I’ve decided I want to exercise my rights to eat pussy until sunrise.”  
“I see,” You say bemused. “And this is… revenge I take it? And not perhaps, an act of goodwill towards me.”  
“I have no reason to show you good will, do I?”  
You break out into more laughter. 
“Right. We’ll be even after today then, at least.”  
“Hurry,” Rafayel says again, after settling it. Same puppy dog look in his eyes as before, back in instant. You can’t help but be charmed by how quickly he reverts back into desiring your attention.  
Rafayel lays down as you take your strap-on off and crawl over towards him. Deciding you’re not done with him for the day - you stand on your knees just over his chest and spread your pussy apart for him to see. He’s not expecting it, evidenced by the way his eyes go wide at the sight. 
“Even without cumming, making you feel good turned me on this much. Is that what you were hoping to know?”  
Rafayel goes flush again. “I never said that.”  
“So difficult,” You hum. “Come on. Can I sit?”  
Rafayel barely masks his enthusiasm as he nods. You crawl over him further before carefully setting yourself above his face. You try to avoid letting the full weight rest on him, but Rafayels hands are on you in an instant. With the same desperate grip he had while you were fucking him, he pulls your thighs down until your pussy is in his mouth - tongue out and lapping up wetness instantly. You shiver at the desperate movement of his tongue. 
It gets your body hot all over again. Your fingers thread through the purple strands of hair for anchor as you push yourself against his willing mouth like you’re fucking his face. Your own desires hadn’t crossed your mind until now, but now that you’re aware of it - that familiar restless lust returns to you tenfold You shiver as the familiar flames of arousal stoke back up inside of you.  
Your gut honeyed, sticky lust making your limbs feel thick. You use your other hand to tweak your nipples as you rock your hips back and forth. Rafayel lies underneath you obediently, eagerly - his hands helping you move at the pace you want without complaint. He always manages to surprise you. His willingness to give to you making you feel weak in the knees.  
Already so worked up, it takes you hardly any time to reach your climax. You feel it in your waist, body going slack as the knot inside of your stomach uncoils. You let out a short cry, hands tightening in Rafayel’s hair as you cum all over his face - swearing as you do. You feel Rafayel moan against you, reverberating through you as you ride out your high and finish.  
You pull away from his sated, pulling back to see him wiping his chin before licking his fingers. The look in his eyes sends an amused sort of arousal through you.  
“You look like you’re going to eat me.” You say. Rafayel nods.  
“I mean… I’m certainly trying.”  
You laugh tiredly, swiping your thumb against his cheek with a smile.  
“After we clean up and have dinner,” You say. “I have some mandatory time off so I won’t be called in.”  
“I won’t let you sleep,” He says, clingy again - face pressed against your thigh. You grin. His many moods make you so weak to him. 
You bend down to kiss his forehead.  
“I wasn’t planning on it.”  
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✮ a/n ; rafayel fans . let me know if this was okay im lacking confidence but i had writing him. i want to keep like a spoiled housecat maybe.
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always-azriels-princess · 2 days ago
Text
The Wrong Thing part two
Guysss i did it :) im so proud
Summary: the mate bond snaps, and you say the wrong thing
Part 1
Word Count: 1.4K
Azriel was avoiding you. You knew it, he knew it, the entire Inner Circle knew it. Feyre had tried to approach you a couple times to figure out what had happened, but you never answered the knocks on your door.
It was embarassing, and yet you completely understood why your mate didn't want you. The haunted look in his eyes that night appeared in your nightmares each night, and each one ended with you waking up, slicked with sweat and panting as if just finishing a marathon.
Bags had started to form under your eyes from the lack of sleep, and Azriel wasn't looking much better. You had overheard Rhys talking to Feyre on multiple occasions about how Azriel was getting unfocused during missions, sloppy during training, and quick to anger in simple conversations.
You knew you had to fix your mistake, but it was hard to think of how your mate would look at you, like he never wanted to see you again. And you didn't even blame him, you wouldn't want to see yourself either after what you had done.
"No."
The words hung around your neck, suffocating you every second of every day like a noose growing tighter and tighter. Rhys had also noticed your work as a diplomat for the Night Court was diminishing in its thoroughness.
Nuala knocked on your door, as you were deep in some paperwork updating the new peace treaty with Winter. "Come in," you called.
"Good afternoon miss," Nuala said as she walked in. "The High Lord would like to see you in his office."
You sighed, expecting something like this after on your and Azriel's actions in the past week. "Thank you Nuala, I'll be right there."
The chair scraped back after you stood up, shuffling the papers and stuffing them in a drawer.
Dread coiled in your gut as you made your way to the High Lord's office, worried he would make you confront what you had been trying so hard to hide from.
You knocked thrice quietly, hoping Rhys had maybe left to go get a snack and you could sneak back into your room. To no avail, you heard a faint "come in," and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
The breath you had previously took escaped you as you gazed over every inch of the shadowsinger, completely ignoring the High Lord sitting at his desk, smirking with his "I'm so amazing" face.
As you drank in the image of your mate, his shadows clung to him, wrapping around his body like a second skin, while others writhed around his feet, swarming and twisting in chaotic patterns. The tension in the room increased ten-fold and the air around Azriel began to darken, his very presence sucking in the light around him. His adam's apple bobbed as he traced your every curve, as if committing the image to memory.
You just stood in the doorway, both you and your mate frozen, staring at each other, before Rhys cleared his throat and you snapped out of your trance, breaking your eye contact with your mate. As you sat down on the opposite side of the couch Azriel was on,
"Now, you probably know why I called you in," Rhys explained. "This," he gestured wildly, waving his hands between you two, "needs to stop. Azriel, you've almost completely dropped your training schedule, and I have reports from your informants that you're missing their check-ins." He turned to you, "And you are three days behind on the paperwork for the Winter Court peace treaty renewal."
Rhys sighed and stood up, walking towards the door. Before exiting the room, he turned back and said, "I don't know what's going on with you two, and I'm not going to snoop through your heads to figure it out, but something clearly happened, so you can leave this room when you are back to normal." With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him as he walked away, and you could hear the soft click of the lock turning, keeping you stuck in a room with male who wanted nothing to do with you.
The air in the room was thick, suffocating. The silence between you and Azriel seemed to stretch endlessly, like the tension before a storm. He sat on the couch across from you, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body taut, like he was ready to shadow away at any second.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him at first. The guilt gnawed at your insides, raw and jagged, but you forced yourself to breathe, slow and steady, to calm the racing in your chest. The room was too quiet, and yet every sound felt amplified. The way his shadows whispered, curling and slithering at his feet, the way his eyes seemed to burn into you from across the room.
He was avoiding you, but you were avoiding him too.
You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat, suffocating you before they even had a chance to leave your lips.
Azriel spoke first, his voice low and strained. "You don’t have to do this." It was almost a whisper, his words laced with pain and, not anger...no, something more vunerable. Insecurity.
"Do what?" you finally managed, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. "Talk about it?"
His voice was low and strained. "You have already made your feelings very clear, and I would never try to force you into anything you don't want."
You sat up, confused. "Az, I never said I didn't want the bond. I was overjoyed when it snapped, but I....I panicked because I know that you deserve someone better than me."
His beautiful hazel eyes softened. "But...you said no. The bond snapped and you said no." His voice was getting louder and faster as he spoke. "You were right, you shouldn't want this bond, I'm broken and scarred, and you're so....so perfect."
An ache spread through your chest, as though all the fragile pieces of your heart had shattered at once, leaving sharp fragments to tear at your insides.
"Azriel," your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes. You shifted closer on the couch, until your legs were brushing against his. "I told you this that night, and I will tell you again. You. Are. Not. Weak. You are not broken, you are not scarred, you do not have a single flaw unless it is loving your family too much. I can never take back what I said that night, and I will replay that moment in my head for the rest of my life, praying to be able to go back in the past and change it. You have a such a pure heart, so do not think for one moment that you are not deserving of me. I am the one who doesn't deserve you." You finished your speech, a soft, uneven breath escaping you.
Azriel stared into your soul, his eyes softening with wonder and adoration. He smiled softly as he drew closer. When you felt his warm breath on your face, he murmured, "Why don't we just agree that we both deserve each other," and closed the distance between you. His lips met yours, and it was like the world fell away and the only thing that mattered was the male in front of you. His hand slid from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. It was slow, unhurried, like you both had all the time in the world. You smiled against his lips, fingers threading through the dark strands of his hair as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss.
The taste of him, the feel of him, was overwhelming in the best way. It was like coming home, like a storm finally releasing the tension it had held for so long. You regretfully pulled away, resting your forehead against his. You were finally home.
The peace of the moment was shattered as the door was thrown in, what seemed to be the entire court of Velaris pushing themselves through. Cassian laughed deeply, sweeping Az off the couch and hugging him "Finally!" he exclaimed. Mor, who was bawling her eyes out, flung herself at you, knocking yourself back against the couch. "THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!" You paused for a second, then laughed and hugged her back.
Rhys came in with Feyre on his arm, looking all too smug. "I told you Feyre darling, I'm a genius."
Feyre smacked him upside the head.
@lilah-asteria >3 ilsym you are my first tag ever and i'm so grateful for the support so thank youuuu
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gospelicas · 2 days ago
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cw stepcest
"i don't think you know just what you do to me."
stepdad!kento's hands on your body are searing hot and desperate,, to say the least. he has you on the dining table, your half eaten dinner pushed aside to make room for you to sit back and accommodate your stepfathers large frame between your thighs. he's so hard it hurts, but you only have so long before your mother finishes up in the shower and comes down to join the both of you for desert.
little does she know, her sweethearted kento is having his fill of desert early. he gropes you with large hands, tweaks at your nipples as he kisses down whatever exposed skin he can find until he's face-to-face with your pretty pussy: his favourite sight. but you're needy and impatient and despite having been licked and worshipped by your stepdad for weeks now he still hasn't stretched you out on his cock.
"you could just fuck me," you whisper, as if your mother could somehow hear you over the running water of her shower upstairs. "im already wet for you..."
he shakes his head, blond hair messing a little as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. you reach down and take his glasses off to avoid any obstacles between your sensitive clit and his eager mouth.
"you know i won't fuck you, sweet thing."
"why-" you gasp as he licks a stripe through your folds up to your clit- "why not? i want it."
"i'm your step-father. it's wrong," he presses a kiss to your clit. "improper," kiss, "an abuse of power."
"you're literally eating me out right now," you whine. "it's wrong anyways. you want it too, i know you do."
"more than anything," he hums against your pussy. "bet you feel as sweet as you taste, but it's not happening. you need to start respecting the ground rules i lay down, so shut up and let me make you cum before your mother comes back down."
you groan, but lean back on your elbows and let your legs drape over his broad shoulders. kento eats you like he hasn't just indulged himself on your mothers cooking; with needy moans pressed against your clit and lots of spit and tongue and enough kisses to tell you this isn't just sex to him. he digs his fingers into your thighs to pull you impossibly closer to his greedy tongue, but you gasp when the cold of his wedding band presses against your heated skin.
of course, he moves to take it off, mostly out of guilt, but you manage to catch his wrist in your hand before he can. you can feel his sharp exhale against your pussy as you shake your head, something filthy playing behind your eyes. "don't take it off."
your stepdad frowns and you slowly guide his hand to your heat. you mould hiring and middle finger out and press the rest against his palm and tease your own entrance with his hand as if he were only a toy. his wedding band glistens with your sweet nectar, and he can't manage to pull his hand away like he should. "you're cruel," he whispers.
"i know," you sigh and lean back, letting go of his wrist and trusting him to know what you want. "stop if you want to. go join mom in the shower, maybe you could get off with your—"
"don't." kento pistons his fingers into you with a pace that makes you dizzy! your head is falling back and he's reattaching his lips to your clit and showing off that added experience that being so much older than you gives. your fingers drag through his hair, messing up the delicate blond strands in a way you almost hope he doesn't remember to fix before facing your mother again.
and before you know it, he's bring you to the edge of your climax and pushing you over into ecstasy with an ease that makes it feel like you're the one who he should be claiming with jewellery instead! you cum hard around his fingers and greedy kento nanami laps up every last drop of your release like a thirsty dog.
he rests his forehead against your knee and closes his pretty eyes tight. he's trying to will his erection down.
"i can fix that," you offer, already knowing he'll shake his head and tell you that this is for your pleasure, not his. though you know if you had the time for a second round that your taste alone could make the man cum in his pants: it's happened before.
but before he can protest and you can push any further, the sound of running water from upstairs halts and you hear the shower door opening and shutting as your mother finishes up. it's an almost comical race to get your clothes back on and your appearances tidied up, but by the time she's dressed and rejoining you both in the dining room, you're sat in soft chatter about... the economy.
that's okay, though! because your mom quickly gives you a new subject to discuss when she tells you she's going to spend the summer abroad on a business exchange! she hates to leave you two alone like this but it's the opportunity of a lifetime.
and you'll be damned if you get a whole summer alone with your stepdad and don't get him to fuck you properly within the first week :)
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adumbratrapedme · 3 days ago
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BABY BUMP | teen pregnancy series
Synopsis. after revealing your pregnancy to your boyfriend a few weeks passed and you finally realize the baby bump is here o.o
characters (all separated): tsukishima, kenma, kageyama wc.x words aprox. | genre. pure fluff !|cw/tags. fluff, teen pregnancy, baby bumps. teen pregnancy series masterlists here!
important ! im sorry y'all, i promise in working on the other guys too, btw you can check out the teen preg. masterlist to get a little spoiler over the next chapters <3
Kenma
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It was a quiet afternoon after school. Kenma had just finished a round of gaming in the clubroom, and you were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall as you chatted. You had been trying to keep your pregnancy low-key for the past few weeks, but the signs had become undeniable. The nausea had subsided, but a deep sense of exhaustion still lingered, and you found yourself eating more often.
You hadn’t thought much about it until recently—until now.
Kenma was fiddling with his phone, looking over some stats for an upcoming game, when you stood up suddenly. The simple act of standing made you realize something had changed. You placed a hand on your lower abdomen, feeling the slight roundness there.
“Kenma,” you said softly, your voice laced with hesitation.
He looked up from his phone, the usual nonchalance in his eyes, but something in your tone made him pause. “What’s up?”
You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, lifting your hoodie slightly to reveal your growing belly. You hadn’t really noticed the change until today, when the fit of your clothes felt tighter. Your stomach now had a visible curve, small but undeniably there.
Kenma’s gaze immediately shifted to your stomach, his eyes widening slightly as he absorbed what you were showing him. He blinked twice, his mind catching up with the situation.
“I think… it’s growing,” you said quietly, trying to keep your emotions in check. The reality of it was becoming more and more real every day, and now, seeing the bump clearly, it was like a weight settling in your chest.
Kenma didn’t say anything at first, his gaze still fixed on your stomach. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers twitching as if unsure whether to touch or not. You waited in silence, your heart racing.
Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but steady. “Yeah… it is.” He reached out cautiously, his hand hovering near your waist before gently placing it on the curve of your abdomen. The warmth of his hand felt reassuring. “It’s really happening, huh?”
You nodded, swallowing hard. “I… didn’t think it would show so soon.” The reality of being a first-year high school student and carrying a child was overwhelming, and now, your body was unmistakably reminding you of the responsibility ahead.
Kenma’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not alone in this.” His hand rested more comfortably on your stomach, as though offering silent support.
You smiled, trying to steady your breathing. Despite the nerves and uncertainty that loomed over you both, his steady presence always calmed you. Even though this was a huge change for both of you, you felt a sense of calm in knowing that Kenma was there by your side.
“Yeah, we will,” you agreed, your voice growing more confident.
For a moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of your breathing, the quiet stillness of the room, and the warmth of Kenma’s hand. The world outside seemed distant, and for now, it was just the two of you, facing the next steps together.
Tsukishima
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It had been a few months since that day. Things weren’t perfect—far from it—but Tsukishima was trying. He showed up to appointments, asked questions about the baby’s development, and even begrudgingly helped pick out a crib.
Today, though, everything felt ordinary. The two of you had agreed to spend the afternoon together, sorting through some of the baby things Yamaguchi had been helping you collect.
You were in the kitchen, struggling to reach something on the top shelf. Tsukishima, standing nearby with his usual unimpressed expression, sighed and walked over.
“Couldn’t you have just asked me?” he muttered, grabbing the item with ease.
“Maybe I like the challenge,” you shot back, though the slight smirk on your lips gave you away.
As you turned to set the item down, the hem of your shirt caught on the edge of the counter, riding up slightly. Tsukishima’s sharp eyes caught the sight instantly.
“Wait.” His voice stopped you in your tracks.
“What?”
He motioned for you to stay still, his expression shifting as he stepped closer. For a moment, he simply stared at you, and you followed his gaze downward. That’s when you noticed it—a subtle curve below your navel that hadn’t been there before.
Your heart skipped a beat.
“Oh…” you whispered, placing a hand over the small bump.
Tsukishima’s hand hesitated, hovering near yours. “Can I…?”
You nodded, and he carefully placed his palm over the swell of your stomach. His hand was warm, and the touch was so gentle it made your chest ache.
“It’s real,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I mean, I knew it was real, but… this…”
You watched his face as he stared at your stomach. The usual sharpness in his features softened, replaced by an emotion you couldn’t quite place.
“It’s weird,” he finally admitted, though his tone lacked its usual bite. “In a good way, I think.”
You laughed softly, resting your hand over his. “Yeah. Weird in a good way.”
For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the moment settling over you.
“Do you think it’ll kick soon?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.
“Maybe. It’s still early, though.”
He nodded, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt absentmindedly. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he admitted. “But I want to be. For you. For… them.”
Your chest tightened at his words. “You’re doing better than you think, Kei.”
He glanced up at you, meeting your eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
His lips quirked into a small smile—a rare, genuine one that made your heart swell.
“Thanks,” he said simply, his gaze flickering back to your stomach. “I guess we’re really doing this, huh?”
“Yeah,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “We are.”
Tsukishima leaned down slightly, his hand still resting on your stomach. “Alright, kid,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Don’t make this too hard on your mom, okay?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, tears pricking at your eyes. In that moment, despite all the challenges ahead, you knew you wouldn’t be facing them alone.
And as Tsukishima stood there, his hand protectively over your growing bump, you knew he was starting to believe it too.
Kageyama
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It had been weeks since Kageyama promised to try. He hadn’t been perfect — far from it, actually. There were still moments he’d retreat into himself, overwhelmed by fear of the unknown. But he was showing up, and that mattered more than anything.
One afternoon, the two of you were walking home together after school. It was unusually quiet between you, but not uncomfortably so. The crisp autumn air rustled the leaves, and the faint scent of baked goods from a nearby café filled the air.
Kageyama glanced at you, noting how bundled up you were in your oversized hoodie. “Aren’t you hot?” he asked, gesturing to the layers you had on.
You shook your head, pulling the hoodie tighter around yourself. “No, I’m fine. It’s cozy.”
He frowned slightly. “You’ve been wearing that a lot lately.”
You hesitated, unsure how to explain it. It had been getting harder to hide the small swell of your stomach. You hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, partly because you were still processing it yourself. But his sharp gaze caught your hesitation.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping in his tracks. His tone wasn’t accusatory — just concerned.
“Nothing,” you replied quickly, but your voice betrayed you. You tugged at the hem of your hoodie, avoiding his eyes.
Kageyama stepped in front of you, effectively blocking your path. “Y/N,” he said firmly, his blue eyes narrowing. “Tell me.”
You sighed, realizing there was no escaping this. Slowly, you lifted the hem of your hoodie just enough to reveal the gentle curve of your belly. “It’s… starting to show,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Kageyama’s eyes widened as he stared at the small bump. He didn’t say anything at first, and the silence was deafening. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach out but didn’t know if he should.
“Tobio?” you prompted nervously. “Say something…”
He blinked, finally snapping out of his daze. “That’s… our baby?” His voice was quiet, almost reverent.
“Yeah,” you said, your cheeks heating up. “It’s real now, huh?”
Kageyama hesitated for a moment before lifting a shaky hand toward your stomach. “Can I…?”
You nodded, holding your breath as his hand gently rested on your belly. His touch was hesitant, as if he was afraid he might hurt you or the baby. But then his fingers relaxed, and he let out a quiet breath.
“It’s… warm,” he muttered, his brows furrowed in concentration. He stared at your bump like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “I didn’t think it would feel… like this.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his awe-struck expression. “It’s not kicking or anything yet. But soon, maybe.”
He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. You could see the gears turning in his head, the weight of the situation sinking in even deeper. But then he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a quiet determination.
“I’ll do better,” he said firmly. “For both of you.”
You placed your hand over his, resting on your belly. “You’re already doing better, Tobio.”
The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the world around you fading away. For the first time, the future didn’t feel quite as scary.
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TAGLIST:
@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02
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nakylvr · 1 day ago
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TOO LATE
daniela avanzini x fem!reader
summary: after breaking up with dani a few weeks ago, she repeatedly tries to get in contact with you. ultimately, you end up doing multiple things you thought you would never do
warnings/tags: angst, language, dealer!dani au, happy ending (yay!), nsfw content, more probably im sorry
wc: 4,9 k
part 1 | too late (alternate ending)
minors dni
a gentle reminder that everything i post is fiction. none of this depicts the real people in what i write, this is all for fun. and i took what a few different anons suggested into consideration for both this ending and the alternate ending :]
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it had been a few weeks since the incident with dani. you hadn't gone back to the apartment since then, despite all your things being there. you knew she would be there no matter what time of the day you went, that was one of the benefits of being a dealer as a job, you didn't really have a job.
you stayed with sophia for the time being, who was the one who initially brought the possibility of dani cheating on you. you felt bad the longer you stayed at her place, but she kept telling you that it was fine, that that's what best friends do for each other.
it was obvious you weren't feeling okay after it all went down. you would mainly stare at nothing or your phone lockscreen that you had yet to change. you didn't really leave unless sophia dragged you out to go somewhere. you couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks.
“we should go get your stuff today,”
you glance over at sophia who's cooking from your seat on the stool at the kitchen island, eyebrows raising in surprise. “what?”
“well, you still haven't stopped by the apartment,” she says, hearing the shock in your voice and continuing. “i know you don't want to but you have to if you really want to officiate it as a breakup. you need your things.” she says slowly, choosing her words carefully to not upset you.
you look back down at the kitchen island, mumbling in response. “i guess.”
sophia lets out a short sigh, turning off the stove and walking over to you. she reaches for your hands, grabbing ahold of them causing you to look up at her. “i know it's hard, yn. but you can't just not have your stuff. i know what you're thinking, that she's more likely going to be there than not, but i’ll go with you, okay?” she says softly, her thumb gently rubbing circles on your hands. “and then, i want you to do something.”
you can hear her tone change at her last sentence, and you look at her confused. “what do you mean?”
“i’ll tell you after we get your things.”
within the hour, you were standing outside the apartment with sophia next to you. it was roughly ten in the morning, and you held the key in your shaking hand, hesitating to unlock the door.
“soph i don't think this is a good idea,” you say, lowering your hand. “i don't want another argument right now.”
“it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine,” sophia responds, sending a warm smile your way and squeezing your other hand reassuringly.
meekly nodding your head, you slowly unlock the door and walk inside. instantly, you're hit with the smell of smoke, making your eyes squint slightly trying to adjust to the hazy fog-like atmosphere in the apartment. great.
“is it always like this?” sophia mumbles quietly.
all you do is shake your head in response, walking into the living room and seeing the mess scattered on the coffee table. your first instinct is to clean it up and scold dani for making a mess on the expensive table, but the second you reach your hand out, sophia grabs it and pulls you back.
“we're here to get your things, that's it,” she tells you again.
“right,” you say quietly.
you make your way to the bedroom door, quietly opening the door and immediately freezing in your spot. you knew she would be here, that was obvious. but the sight of her is what stopped you.
she was sleeping, probably for the first time since it happened judging by the dark bags under her eyes that clearly weren't there before. looking at sophia, you take the duffel bag from her. “you can wait outside, i’ll be fine,” you say to her. she gives you a look, but nods her head and walks out of the apartment, leaving you in the room. you take a few steps into the room, and dani starts stirring around, rolling over and groggily opening her eyes. “yn?” she mumbles softly, half awake barely able to make out your face.
“go back to sleep, dani,” you say quietly, pulling the blanket over her. your eyes linger on her for a moment, watching her eyes close again as she mumbles something.
you go to the closet and open it, starting to grab your clothes and putting them in the bag. when you finish with your clothes, you head into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror. nothing had been moved since you left. everything was beside each other like it had always been, even the toothbrushes that were sitting in their stands. you don't even hear footsteps approaching as you stare mindlessly, feeling regret bubbling up inside you as your brain goes through everything that happened.
suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you jump, turning around to see a tired daniela.
“you're really here?” she mumbles quietly.
“dani-” you start, but you're cut off by her gently pushing you against the sink and putting her face in the crook of your neck.
“‘m sorry,” she mutters into your skin. “‘m so sorry, please don't leave. please, yn,”
“dani,” you try to say as sternly as you can. “we aren't discussing this.”
dani pulls her head from your neck, looking down at you as her hands move up to cup your face. “please,” she whispers. “please,” she reiterates, leaning closer to you, her lips inches away from yours. “just give me a chance.”
your eyes meet her red bloodshot ones staring back at you, and you feel your throat close up. you can tell how upset she is and her genuinely being sorry, and it has you wanting to forgive her. but, she hasn't nearly felt like you did the past few months, which has been implemented into your mind by sophia who had seen you almost every day throughout it. “you know i can't do that,” your voice is quiet as you speak.
“i love you,” her voice cracks as her hands cradle your face. “wh-what do you want me to do? i’ll do anything you want, please.”
“there's nothing you can do right now,” you answer, though you’re not sure you believe yourself. “please just-”
you're cut off by daniela pressing her lips against yours. its the softest she's ever kissed you, as if she was worried you would break under her touch. you can practically feel the regret seeping from her as she kisses you, pouring all her heart and emotion into it. your hands grasp her shoulders and pry her away from you, looking at her. “dani, you have to let me leave. sophia is waiting outside and she's pissed off enough as is, i don't want her to start an argument with you,” you tell her.
“sophia?” dani’s face contorts into confusion. “you-you're not- are you?” she can't even get the words out, the thought making her want to throw up. it was obvious for a while now that the filipino girl had feelings for you, though you were either too blind to notice or just ignored it. but, what happened in the past couple of weeks?
“it doesn't matter, daniela,” you shake your head, gently pushing her away from you. “it should be nothing new for you, right?” you turn around and start grabbing your things, putting them in the bag.
the comment you make has dani looking down at the ground, knowing better than to try and counter it like she normally would. “i’m sorry,” she says.
“you can apologize as many times as you want, but it's not going to do anything,” you zip up the bag and turn back around to face her. “you can-” you stop yourself from continuing, shaking your head and walking past her out the bathroom.
“yn, please,” she follows every step you take towards the front door. “please just give me five minutes to talk to you, please.”
“i’m sorry, dani,” you say once reaching the door, pulling it open and walking out. you close the door behind you, half expecting her to follow you outside as well, but even after standing there for a minute, the door doesn't open.
you walk back to the car where sophia is waiting, and she stands up straight when she sees your expression.
“what happened?” she instantly questions.
“nothing,” you shake your head, putting the bag in the backseat and looking at sophia. “i just want to go back. i don't think i’ll last another minute here.”
“okay,” sophia nods, opening the passenger door and letting you get in before closing it.
“you want me to do what?” you stare at sophia with wide eyes. “i’m-i’m not doing that!” you shake your head quickly.
“yn, listen to me,” sophia says in a stern voice. “you know this is for the best.”
“no!” you continue to shake your head, standing up off the couch. “i am not calling the police on her! she's dealt with enough shit these past weeks.”
“and you’ve dealt with far more in the last months,” sophia says, standing when you do.
“i’m still not doing it!” you exclaim. “why-why would you even bring that up?”
“because we both know she should've been gone a while ago,” sophia answers.
“no, you think she should be gone!” you retort. “i know you’ve never liked her, but that does not mean you are going to convince me to call the cops! i-”
“still love her, i know,” sophia’s tone shifts slightly, but enough for you to notice. “you need to get over it.”
“get over it?!” you look at her like she's crazy. “this is two years of my life that have been wasted, sophia! i can't just ‘get over it’ like it's nothing! for two years i have loved her and now it's all gone! do you understand? i can't just get over it within a few weeks,” you fail to ignore the way she's taking steps towards you, too busy ranting angrily until she stops in front of you and tilts your head up to look at her with one hand.
“i’m sorry,” she says softly. “you know i care about you, i just don't want you to get more hurt than you already are,” she pushes some of your hair out of your face.
you can see the way her eyes flicker down and back up to your eyes, and you freeze in realization. “soph-”
“give me one week and i can prove you can get over her,” she cuts you off with this, her voice quiet.
she's serious, you can tell, which only makes you more nervous as you try to think of a response. part of you thinks you shouldn't do it, but a bigger part of you doesn't care.
“okay.”
you can't believe you're doing this. another week has passed, and somehow sophia has managed to convince you to get the police involved. you rub your temples as you sit in your car in front of the apartment, mentally praying this doesn't blow up in your face. it’s supposed to be easy, barely an inconvenience according to sophia. just go inside, see if dani is there, make a quick text and it's done. taking a deep breath, you get out of the car and walk up to the front door.
you knock on the door a few times, despite still having the key and could just walk up inside the place. you stand there for a minute or two, and you’re about to turn around and give up when the door unlocks and opens, there standing daniela.
“yn,” dani lets out in a single breath. to say she didn't expect you would be an understatement, for she thought you would be gone after the last time.
“can i come in?” you ask hesitantly.
“yeah, yeah,” she nods quickly, opening the door wider for you to walk in.
as soon as you walk in, you’re hit with an unfamiliar smell. lavender? odd. you raise an eyebrow as you step into the living room, seeing the place cleaned up since the last time you were there. the coffee table was clean of the former ash marks on it, the ceiling fan no longer held fuzz due to the smoke, the kitchen looked the best it had in over a year. you couldn't hide your surprise as you looked around.
“you really cleaned up,” you say.
“i tried,” dani mumbles. “i-i knew that you wouldn't like the mess i left…if you came back,” her voice is so quiet you can hardly hear what she's saying, but you do.
she was hoping for you to come back. she wouldn't have cleaned the place otherwise. she was right too, you would be upset with the mess she made a week ago. you look at the walls and see the pictures are still up, and you feel a tug on your heart as you look over them. god, you were starting to feel bad now. but, you had a plan. hopefully it would work out.
“dani-”
“wait,” she cuts you off suddenly. “i have something to give you,” she says before walking off into the bedroom.
you take your phone out of your pocket and send the message, quickly putting it back away when dani walks back into the living room with a bag in her hands. you look at her with confusion as she hands it over to you. taking the bag, you open it and look inside, reaching in and pulling out a book. your confusion grows bigger until you open the first page, and you realize what it is. it's a scrapbook, poorly made which means she did it herself, of every picture you two took over the two years. “dani…” you say quietly.
“you don't have to say anything,” dani says, looking down at the ground. “i just wanted to make sure you got it before…y’know…you leave officially.” she mumbles the last bit.
closing the book, you set it and the bag down, taking a few steps towards her and grabbing her hands causing her to look at you. “i’m not leaving,” you whisper, seeing her eyes widen. “but you have to listen to me very carefully right now.” your voice turns serious, which has dani looking at you with confusion. “the police are on their way, but dani, you have to-”
“what?!” daniela lets out in surprise. “wh-what the hell do you mean?!”
“dani, just listen to me,” you grab her shoulders firmly. “you haven't moved the stash in the safe, have you?”
“n-no,” dani shakes her head, clearly starting to panic as the sound of sirens gets louder. “yn, i can-i can't go to jail-”
“you’ll be there for a few days max,” you tell her, cutting her off of the beginning of her rant. “i'll keep everything going for you, don't worry. i'll get you out as soon as the bail is posted, okay? you're gonna be fine, i promise.”
daniela keeps shaking her head, her body trembling as she tries to keep calm. “i can't do this, i can't-”
“yes you can,” you say, holding her face in your hands. “you're going to be okay, i promise,” you tell her again. “just don't say anything to anyone, don't look at anyone. you’ll be out as soon as possible, okay?”
“okay,” dani nods slowly.
“i love you, okay? i haven't stopped loving you for one day,” you say, pecking her lips as the front door bursts open. “don't do anything stupid. i’ll be waiting for you.”
you somehow manage to keep relatively calm as you watch the police take her out of the apartment, seeing the look in her eyes as the car door slams shut. once you get back into the apartment with your bag of things, you toss it onto the couch and quickly go into the bedroom closet.
pulling out the safe, you type in the passcode and it unlocks and opens, revealing the large sum of money you told dani to start saving just in case something like this happened. you take out the stacks of green bills, putting them on the bed and sitting down, starting to count it.
the bail ended up costing almost everything in the safe, which both surprised you and didn't at the same time. you knew l.a. was insane with their charges, so it wasn't that big of a surprise. the bigger surprise, and funnier one, was the look on the authorities' faces when you handed over the bag of all the cash, who all stared at you with wide eyes counting every dollar. you had to sit and wait for an hour or two while they counted, but eventually they finished and told you it was enough, and that it would take a few days to process.
just like you’d promised, within the week you were standing outside the gate of the jail, leaning against your car waiting. you’re looking at your phone when you hear a loud buzzing noise, making you look up. a smile immediately curls on your lips and you stand up straight, putting your phone away watching the officer open the gate.
you watch as daniela slowly walks over to you, holding her bag of things she had on her when they took her. your arms instantly wrap around her when she's close enough, pulling her into your embrace as she puts her face in your neck.
“are you okay?” you ask quietly, running your hand through her curly hair.
“yeah,” she mumbles into your neck. “‘m just tired. the beds are rock hard.”
“i’m sure,” you nod, not moving. “you wanna get something to eat and then head back home?”
‘home’, dani’s brain repeats that word multiple times hearing you say it so casually after the hell that’s been this last month. you’re talking to her like nothing happened, and she doesn't know how to feel about it. there's still an immense amount of guilt she feels even after you telling her you didn't stop loving her. she still regrets everything she stupidly did.
“yeah,” she answers quietly after a long minute of silence.
walking into the apartment, you toss your keys on the dining room table, running a hand through your hair and letting out a quiet sigh. just one step inside the place and you’ve felt more relaxed than you have been in the months leading up to this. dani sets the rest of the food on the table and walks up to you, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and pulling you close to her.
“i’m sorry,” she says in a murmur.
“dani, please don't-”
“listen to me, please,” she pleads before you can say anything else. “i…i know i fucked up, and i’m so sorry for everything i put you through. i can't say i know why i did it because i don't. all i c-can do now is apologize a-and apologize hoping you’ll s-stay. i’m r-really sorry, yn. i-i-” she starts stuttering over her words, tears welling in her eyes trying to keep herself from crying.
you turn around the second you hear her voice crack, seeing the tears brimming in her eyes and you cup her cheeks in your hands. “dani, breathe. it's okay, i’m not going anywhere. you don't have to worry, okay? i’m staying.”
“you are?” she asks, her voice cracking as a few tears fall from her eyes.
“yeah,” you nod your head, wiping the tears from her eyes with your thumbs. “i promise.”
as soon as those words leave your mouth, daniela is pressing her lips against you with so much energy you have to take a step back to try and steady yourself. her grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as you kiss back, your hands tangling in her hair. she bites on your lower lip gently, pushing her tongue inside when you part your lips for her, a little moan coming from you at the action. when she pulls away, she's looking at you with a dazed, dark look in her eyes.
she doesn't say anything as she picks you up by your thighs, a yelp of surprise leaving your mouth as she walks over to the bedroom. laying you down on the bed, she crawls on it above you, peering down at you as you stare up at her.
“dani,” you whimper as her hands grab the hem of your shirt.
“let me show you how sorry i am?” she says, but it comes out sounding like a question. she doesn't move her hands, waiting for your answer before she does anything else.
“please,” your voice comes out in a whisper as you nod.
with one swift motion, dani pulls your shirt up over your head, reaching around your back and unclasping the bra you were wearing, tossing it somewhere in the room. she lowers her head and takes one of your nipples in her mouth, gently biting and sucking on it as you let out a gasp. your hand grabs her head as she swirls her tongue around your bud, removing herself after a long moment with a pop. she moves over to your other breast, doing the same thing as her hand drags down your bare torso. she stops at the waistband of your shorts, pulling her face away from your chest and looking down at you, waiting for you to give her the okay.
you nod your head again, and she pulls down your shorts along with the panties you were wearing. seeing your dripping core has a low groan coming from daniela as she spreads your legs apart, bringing a hand down between your thighs and dragging her fingers along your folds.
“fuck, baby,” she breathes out when she pulls her fingers away. “tell me how you want me,” she says softly, looking down at you.
you're not sure how to respond. there were a few times where she would say this, but it felt different this time. you can see in her eyes that she's genuinely caring about what you want to do, not what she wants to do. you can hear in her voice that she’ll listen and do whatever you want her to do. your head is already spinning, and you manage to get out a response. “your…fingers, please,” your voice comes out more desperate than you expected, but you couldn't help it. this was the most attention she'd given you in months, you didn't care about how desperate you sounded, because you were desperate.
nodding her head, dani quickly pulls off her shirt and leans down, kissing you deeply. your hands trail down her toned body, finding the buttons on her jeans and undoing them. parting from the kiss, daniela pulls her jeans down off her legs and is immediately kissing you again.
“i love you,” she murmurs against your lips, bringing her hand between your thighs. her fingers quickly find your clit and start rubbing small, slow circles on it, causing a whimper to escape your throat which she takes as the opening to slide her tongue into your mouth.
your hands tangle in her hair as your hips buck against her hand for more, which she notices. knowing better than to tease you right now, she brings two fingers down to your entrance and plunges them inside which has you moaning into the kiss. pulling away to breathe, your head hits the pillow under you as she starts thrusting her fingers in you at a steady pace. “fuck…dani,” you moan out.
dani starts kissing from your jaw down to your neck, repeatedly muttering against your skin how much she loves you whether it be directly saying it or giving little praises. she bites down occasionally, leaving little marks that will surely be seen for the next few days, feeling you squirm underneath her every time she does it. “i love you s’ much, my beautiful girl. my pretty girl,” she mumbles softly into your skin.
your face heats up in a fiery blush hearing her praising words against your skin, your arms hooking around her neck to pull her closer to you. “ngh, dani…” you whine into her ear. “f-fuck, feels so ah so good,”
a quiet moan comes from daniela as you whine her name directly into her ear, biting down into your neck to leave another mark as she speeds up her fingers. “i know, baby. you’re so tight around my fingers, you gonna cum, babygirl? you wanna cum all over my fingers?”
“yes!” you gasp, your walls clenching around her fingers at her words. “please, dani– please make me cum, pleasepleaseplease,” you beg shamelessly, your nails digging into her shoulders with a tight grip as your hips rock against her hand.
“i got you, princesa. cum for me,” she murmurs into your neck, feeling your walls tighten around her fingers as she curls them inside you.
with a scream-like moan and your back arching, your eyes roll back and you swear you see stars pop up in your vision as you cum around her fingers. your body trembles with the aftershocks, and a little whimper escapes your mouth when daniela pulls her fingers out of you.
“yn?” daniela says softly, seeing the exhausted look on your face when you turn your head to look at her. “i love you,” she whispers, hesitantly as if she were saying it for the first time.
a tired smile forms on your face at her words, how genuine she sounds while saying it. “i love you too,” you reply.
“are you mad at me?” she mumbles quietly. she pushes some of your hair out of your face, her hand cupping your cheek as her thumb draws small circles on your soft skin.
it takes a moment for you to respond. you could sense the guilt spilling through from the latina looking down at you, and you determined how to answer. “i was,” you start. “you put me through a lot these past few months, you know?”
“i know.” daniela’s voice is barely able to be heard at this point, her eyes averting from yours while she starts to move her hand away from you.
you're quick to grab ahold of her hand before she completely pulls away, not wanting her to feel worse than she already is. “but…” you say, seeing her eyes flicker back to you. “the day i came to get my stuff i knew how sorry you were. in all the different things we’ve been through, i’ve never seen you like that. we’ve driven up the state in one night and your eyes didn't have those big of bags under them when we finally woke up in that shitty hotel you claimed would be great. we’ve gotten scammed by those losers in that casino who took almost everything we had and you didn't even panic or get upset because you said you still had me even though we lost thousands. shit, do you remember when we were at manon’s for her birthday and we got so drunk that you were crying thinking i was going to leave you for her?” a giggle escapes your lips which has dani subconsciously smiling at the sound of it as she finally looks at you fully.
“i remember everyone teasing me for it, yes,” she replies with a nod.
“that was the only time i ever saw you like that,” you continue. “then when i came by the second time and i saw how much you cleaned the place – when you said that you knew i wouldn't like the mess if i came back, i knew you were hoping for me to come back. i could tell. i know you know you fucked up. but you are really gonna have to work hard to keep me here, okay?” you tell her, giving her a look that tells her you're serious without saying it.
“okay,” she instantly says, nodding quickly. “i’ll do anything you want me to, i promise.”
you nod along to what she says. “you're going to change the passwords back to what they were, you're going to let me see your phone, and you're going to block that bitch you saw. are we clear?” you say seriously.
“yes,” daniela’s voice comes out in a whimper at the tone in your voice as she nods again. “i’m sorry.” she shifts around above you when you suddenly wrap your arms around her and flip over so she's on her back below you, her eyes wide as she peers up at you.
“i know, baby,” you say, slowly dragging your hand down her body. “which is why you’ll let me have my fun with you, right? show me just how sorry you are?”
daniela’s face turns red at your words, goosebumps forming along her skin as you drag your hand down to the waistband of her underwear. “yes,” she whimpers.
“good,” you smile at her, leaning down and kissing her.
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livin4woso · 7 hours ago
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Casual-(alexia putellas x reader)
Summary- You can only keep it casual for so long right well. alexia doesn't want to any further than you just being a fling occasionally. However, you want more from her. You want commitment.
It's not as if alexia didn't like you or that she didn't find you attractive it was just that you were a low time commitment when she occasionally fancied when her schedule gave her a few hours free.
While that was good for the first month a summer fling as she proposed the idea to you however after 3 months, you can't help but catch feelings for the women who is in and out of your bed atleast once a week as a 'stress reliever'. The sneaking around your teamates to hide this suitationship was thrilling at first, like an adrenaline rush now it was plain boring and felt like a guilty secret.
You wanted the blonde to yourself as while it felt exclusive to you, there was no agreement for alexia to stay put to you she could do what she wanted when she wanted. You know you're not the only person she has slept with as she came into training with a neck full of hickeys and you dont leave marks because it has to be a secret right and even the slightest trace would ruin what was going on between yous.
However while you can accept it a few times you had reached your limit as you can't help but feel jealous when you know she has other women in her bed yet you sit and wait for her like a kicked puppy waiting for her attention.
You texted her to come round yours, but you didn't tell her what for as you needed to express your feelings towards her before you drag yourself deep falling for the blonde woman more than you already had.
Alexia hadn't expected much other than the usual routine of hook up wake up entangled in eachother then leave on the morning without a trace and she wasn't going to complain as you were some of the best sex she had in the past few years. She got changed into some sweats as she was used to the routine and didn't need to get dressed up nice as its not as if they would be on her for very long.
You heard the knock of the door usually filled you with excitement was now one of dread as this could either go two ways. You opened the door and greeted alexia, and as you almost slipped into your familiar routine of her lips pressed against your neck, you stopped her.
"Ale, can we talk, please?" you said, trying to push her towards the sofa. "Mhm," she said, understanding the hint and sat on the corner of your L shaped sofa. "Look, i just needed to confess something. i like you, and i can't keep doing this. Just as a random fling, i want commitment ,i want you, " you said, pacing the living room trying to read her stoic facial expressions. "Im sorry y/n, but i dont feel the same. i told you this was casual, and that's it. You knew that from the start," she replied, almost heartless "yeah right casual" you replied, pushing the loose strands of hair behind your head as almost a stress reliever.
This was a rash decision but it needed to end "then im sorry but we're finished no more of this of us whatever you even call this because i can't do casual anymore" you replied almost shocked at your own words. Alexia was almost stunned at you but she didn't let it slip not for one second "okay and i respect that I'll leave and I'll see you at training" she replied getting up to leave your apartment.
However, you couldn't see her at training knowing the countless times you'd been wrapped in her arms wanting to be hers. So you texted your agent and Accepted the deal to transfer to Chelsea this was the final straw if alexia didn't want to commit to you the only way to get rid of her is to remove her from your life completely.
Once the move was completed during the January window, you were having one of the best seasons you have had in a while with many goal contributions to the team. Meanwhile alexia was having a harder time to adjust without you and she had many of time thought about texting you saying she had lied that night and that she also felt the same but she was just scared to commit herself to a relationship again.
She couldn't do that not to you after she knew she had ruined you so much to leave for a different country but also to herself as her cowardness and anxiety had led to her mistake. Many teammates had asked her why you had transferred so abruptly, but she would never admit she was the reason for it all because she wanted to keep things casual between yous.
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mcytegg · 1 day ago
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does anyone remember the time 4c said smt abt not just wanting to better the server, but how he wanted to better its people. or am i just saying words, making shit up, etc etc
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uceyliyahh · 2 days ago
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Summary: You are just a distraction to me nothing more.
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smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.
warning contains: none
word count: 4,372
Jey Uso x Remiyah
AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.
comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍
ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.
I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios
this will be a four-to-five-part series hope y'all will like it trying something new. 💁🏽‍♀️
TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign
@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @yana3sworld
@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak
DISTRACTION
Ø3
Jey
I was at the gym, focused on my decline dumbbell bench press, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It struck me that I hadn’t heard from Remiyah since our session yesterday afternoon, and her sudden departure left me feeling uneasy. Concern for her well-being began to creep in.
I constantly found myself checking my phone, yearning for a message from her, but all I received was silence, except for a text from Jaida. This lack of response made me pull away from her, marking the beginning of my emotional distance.
Whenever she expressed a desire for intimacy, I found myself turning her down, claiming exhaustion and a need for rest. I was confused about my feelings—was I developing a crush on Remiyah? It seemed impossible, as I didn’t view her in that light at all.
During my bench workouts, I noticed my brother Jimmy entering the garage with a puzzled look on his face. For a moment, concern washed over me, prompting me to pause my exercise and head over to see what was troubling him.
I set my wireless headphones aside, fully focused on his words.
“What’s up Uce?” I asked.
“Did you hear what happened?” Jimmy asked as I looked at him confused while shaking my head.
“Nah, I haven’t been on my phone yet, why what’s up?” He pulled out his phone to show me the latest news about a wrestler who had crashed their car into a tree. The images looked quite severe until I realized the car was familiar.
That was Remiyah’s car the fuck did she do?
I took his phone and examined the car more intently, confirming it was indeed hers. My heart raced with excitement as I handed his phone back, leaning back on the bench and running my hands over my face in disbelief.
“The fuck did she just do? Fuck,” I whisper softly.
“She’s in the hospital uce if you wanna go see her, look I know you and her are going through a rough patch but I can see how you be looking her like you don’t want her,” he said as I gave him a stern look trying to deny the fact that I was not crushing over her.
“You don’t even be around Jaida anymore, all you be worried about is Remiyah, don’t deny it uce because I know you like what kind of person takes a girl on dates? Dick her down good, spoiling her rotten,” was he wrong? I mean did spoil her a lot more than I do with Jaida especially when it came to taking her out on dates.
I got up from the bench grabbing my phone and my keys while heading out towards my car until I heard Jimmy say something, “Yo! Where you going?” I went inside of my car before speaking.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be back,” I said while backing out the driveway heading straight towards the hospital to see Remiyah.
On my way to the hospital to visit her, I decided to make a quick detour to the store to pick up some red roses, her favorite flowers. I can't quite explain why I felt compelled to get them; it was just an instinct. I never imagined that she would be in such a dark place, contemplating ending her life because of me. I shared my feelings with her, but I never anticipated this reaction.
I noticed a message from Jaida pop up on my screen via iMessage, clearly indicating she had reached out. However, I chose not to reply at that moment because I was behind the wheel.
Jaida😘: Baby wya?
Don't misunderstand me; Jaida is great and all, but there's something about Remiyah that resonates with me on a deeper level. I can't quite put my finger on it, but she has this captivating aura that draws me in. What are you even thinking, Joshua? You truly care for Jaida, right?
I successfully arrived at the hospital, parked my car in the lot, and switched off the engine. As I stepped out, I picked up the flowers from the front seat and made my way into the building.
Upon entering the hospital, I made my way to the reception desk, eager to find Remiyah. There was an undeniable urgency within me; I needed to see her, if only to reassure myself that she was alright.
“Hello, Sir, how can I help you?” The recipient lady asked.
“Yes, I’m looking for Remiyah Harris is she in this building I’m her boyfriend,” I said feeling uneasy when I had said that.
“Oh, yes she is on the second floor down the hallway when you turn to your left in room 289 sir,” she said as I nodded my head thanking her in the process.
As I approached the elevators, eagerly anticipating their arrival, I took a moment to reply to Jaida's message.
Zaddy����: I’m at the store rn baby I’ll see you when I get home aight?
Jaida😘: okay daddy see you when you get here
As the elevator doors slid open, I stepped inside and pressed the button for the second floor. As the doors began to close, I leaned back against the wall, lost in thought. What could have driven her to this decision? She has a promising career ahead and is undoubtedly well put together. It just doesn’t add up.
Remiyah is a force to be reckoned with; she has a clear understanding of her values and desires in life, unlike even Jaida, who seems uncertain. What has shaped her into this determined individual? As the elevator doors chimed open, I made my way down the hallway, taking a left turn.
I finally arrived at her room, pausing to take a deep breath before I knocked on the door. Just then, I heard a soft voice say, “come in,” from the other side. I opened the door to find her sprawled on the bed, seemingly engrossed in whatever was playing on the TV.
My heart ached as I took in her battered state; she was covered in bruises and looked so fragile. Her eyes widened in surprise at my arrival, yet she remained silent, unable to find the words.
I noticed her flinch as I approached, even before I had the chance to present her with the flowers she adored. Realizing this, I gently placed the bouquet on the nearby counter and then took a seat in the chair right beside her.
She clears her throat beginning to say something, “T-thank you for the flowers, they’re my favorite,” she said while giving me a faint smile.
“I know that’s why I got them, but how are you feeling?” I asked her.
I can’t express how much it hurts to see her like this. She mentioned she’s in pain, dealing with a broken rib, a bruised nose, and a head injury. Despite everything, she’s on the mend, but witnessing her struggle truly breaks my heart.
I managed to interlock her fingers within mine causing her to look at me, “I’m sorry if I’m the reason you’re up in this hospital mama,” I apologized while rubbing my thumb against the palm of her hand which she shook her head.
"It's alright, Jey. I've realized that I'm not the type of girl you're looking for, and that's perfectly fine. I've experienced this situation before, so it's not unfamiliar to me," she explained. I was left puzzled by her words; what did she mean by having gone through this before?
“What do you mean?”
Remiyah let out a heavy sigh, “What I mean is that I’ve never felt like I was enough for a man to want something serious with me. This has been the case in all my past relationships, including what we have now. So don’t worry, Jey; your feelings are valid.” My feelings?
My emotions are in turmoil. I had no idea she had faced such struggles before, and it truly hurt to learn that she felt inadequate. The truth is, she has always been more than enough for me from the very first moment I saw her. Her presence, her energy, and the gentle way she speaks captivated me completely.
Her graceful stride and the confidence she exuded were qualities I deeply desired. I yearned for her, though I struggled to acknowledge it within myself. As I gently pressed a kiss onto her palm, I noticed the surprise flicker across her face. “Don’t do that, Jey. I don’t want to be a fool falling for your tricks again,” Remiyah replied.
I could see her perspective clearly; it all stemmed from my own foolishness and my failure to appreciate what was right in front of me. Jaida simply couldn’t offer me the same things that Remiyah always did. Rising from the chair, I slipped off my shoes and made my way to the hospital bed beside her.
She appeared slightly confused when I made the move, but she carefully shifted over, being cautious not to hurt herself further with her broken rib. As I draped the blanket over us, I gently pulled her closer, resting her head on my chest.
There’s a serene peace that washes over me whenever she’s near; her presence effortlessly lights up my world. Could it be that I’m developing feelings for her? Perhaps my twin brother was onto something with his observations. As I looked at her, I noticed her eyes glued to the television, completely unaware of the admiration I held for her captivating beauty.
My phone was buzzing incessantly in my pocket, so I took it out to find messages from Jimmy and Jaida. Unsure of what excuse to fabricate, I opted to check what Jimmy needed.
IMESSAGE
Twin🩸: where yo’ ass at? Jaida over here trippin!
Twin🩸: she’s crashing out uce
Jey🩸: I’m with Remiyah at the moment tryna figure some shit out
Twin🩸: figure some shit out? Like what? Are you just comforting her bc you feel bad or something? Tf goin on?
Jey🩸: something doesn’t seem right about how I am feeling
Twin🩸: is it bc of what I told you before you left?
Jey🩸: yeah but I’m figuring out now just tell Jaida to go home aight?
Twin🩸: she ain’t gonna listen to me unless you say something uce
Jey🩸: tell her I said to take her ass home I’ll handle her later please
Twin🩸: aight aight I’ll tell her
I let out a heavy sigh, my fingers pressing against my temple in frustration. It’s exhausting to manage Jaida’s neediness whenever I’m away or unable to give her my undivided attention.
I set my phone down on the table beside the hospital bed, my gaze meeting Remiyah's innocent eyes. In that moment, her serene expression washed away my frustration over Jaida, bringing me a sense of calm I desperately needed.
“You okay?” Remiyah asked as I nodded my head boring into her delicate eyes.
"I'm alright, just handling a few things," I replied, and she acknowledged me with a nod, choosing not to pursue the topic further. For a brief moment, her gaze drifted elsewhere, but I gently cupped her chin, guiding her eyes back to mine.
At first, it took her by surprise, but she held my gaze. I found myself glancing at her lips before returning to her captivating eyes. It felt as if I were under a spell, completely mesmerized by her beauty. What was happening to me?
I moved in closer, my nose gently grazing hers as she remained perfectly still. I could sense her breath quickening, and in that moment, I pressed my lips softly against hers.
She hesitated at first, not immediately returning my kiss. But as I gently gripped her throat, drawing her closer, she finally melted into the moment. Our lips met with an intensity that ignited a fire between us, my tongue dancing with hers as her hands tangled in my mullet, craving every bit of this passionate connection.
“Fuck,” Remiyah muttered.
I could sense a rush of excitement coursing through me, and despite the undeniable attraction I felt, I knew I had to maintain my composure in her presence. There was something uniquely electrifying about this moment, something in the atmosphere that made being near her feel entirely different from before.
I sensed her rising onto her knees, moving closer to my lap as my hand instinctively found its way to her hips. "Watch out for your ribs, mama," I whispered softly.
She pulled away from me gazing into my eyes, “I’m okay Jey I promise, what’s goin with you?”
I found myself in a whirlwind of emotions, kissing her as if she were the love of my life. It was confusing, yet I couldn't resist; she was simply flawless, even more so than Jaida.
I remained silent as I drew her in for another kiss, one that was filled with longing and desire. My hands gripped her hips tightly, and I pressed my body against hers, making sure she could sense the intensity of my need for her. This kind of passion was something I had never experienced with Jaida.
I was deeply concerned about her, especially with one of her ribs broken, yet she was pulling at my hair as if this was exactly what she desired. “J-Jey, what do you want? W-we can’t be d-doing this,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
I was lost in the moment, ignoring her words as I pressed my lips against hers, then trailed soft, lingering kisses down her neck. Something felt different within me; it wasn't just desire I felt, but a deeper longing for her that I couldn't quite understand.
I sensed her distancing herself from me, yet I clung to her tightly, unwilling to let her slip away. "Jey! What do you want?" she exclaimed, forcefully shoving me aside.
“I’m not going to be playing these fucking games with you! When don’t even know what the hell you want!”
I felt a surge of frustration as she continued to raise her voice, fully aware that it would only escalate the situation. “Miyah…” I said, locking my gaze with her warm brown eyes, “please lower your tone when you talk to me.” Despite my plea, Remiyah ignored my request, and I could feel my patience wearing thin with this girl.
Remiyah yelled, her voice filled with frustration and hurt. "You stroll in here pretending to care about me, yet you pull stunts like this! Is it any wonder I'm stuck in this hospital? I’ll never be good enough for you!" She winced, a sharp pain shooting through her rib cage.
I rubbed my face with my hands, striving to maintain my composure. She was mistaken; she had always been more than enough for me. I noticed Remiyah's eyes welling up with tears as she attempted to rise from my lap gently, being cautious not to hurt herself.
She rose from the bed, gripping her rib cage as she reached for the medication resting in a cup. My gaze was fixed on her every action. Remiyah took two pills from her prescribed medication and washed them down with a sip of water.
Remiyah let out a deep sigh, expressing her frustration. “I can’t believe I’ve been foolish enough to think you might actually love me or want something meaningful with me. But I get it; it’s fine,” she admitted.
“It’s not like that Remiyah,” I said as she looked confused.
She stood there, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eagerly awaiting my response. "So, Jey, what’s it really like?" she asked, her curiosity palpable.
To be truthful, I was completely unaware of what I was truly feeling. My emotions and thoughts were chaotic, much like the aftermath of her car accident that landed us in this situation, which deeply troubled me.
I rose from the bed and made my way toward her, her eyes fixed on my every move. At 6'2", my stature loomed over her petite frame as she looked up at me, and I gently grasped her chin.
“It’s just something bout’ you I can’t get out of my head mama, I don’t know what it is but idk if im ready for it,” I confessed as I seen her unfolding her arms.
"What are you afraid of? You know I would never harm you, Jey," she said, pressing against my strong arms and wrapping her arms around my waist—she was truly going to drive me wild.
"I understand you wouldn’t, Remiyah. You’re truly a wonderful girl, genuinely good at heart, but…" my words started to falter as I met her innocent gaze.
"I’m not prepared for that level of commitment right now, especially after my marriage. My relationship with Jaida happened by chance; I wasn’t seeking anything serious. But then there’s you, Miyah…damn." Jimmy was right; I’m starting to fall for you without even noticing it. But the question remains: am I truly ready for this kind of commitment?
Remiyah listened to me with such focus, a quality I admired from the moment we first met. I shifted my hand from her chin to her hips, while she tenderly placed her small hands on my face, gently caressing my salt-and-pepper beard with her thumb.
She rose onto her tiptoes, gently kissing my lips with tender pecks that I eagerly returned before she stepped back, leaving a smile on my face. “I’ll be here for you, papa. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“I know mama…I know, you for real gonna wait on me?” I asked just to be certain.
"Absolutely, I'm ready to wait for you." It's incredible how dedicated she is, especially considering everything I've put her through. I can't help but think that Jaida wouldn't have shown the same loyalty; she likely would have moved on and found someone else.
I gently pressed my lips against hers, looking down at her petite figure as she spoke once more, "Just don’t leave me hanging, waiting for you. I can’t handle much more of this, Joshua." I nodded, fully grasping the depth of her emotions.
“A’ight then little mama,” I said as she smiled at me her smile was so pretty what am I going to do.
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OMNISCIENT
Jey had been at the hospital with Remiyah for a while, and as the evening wore on, he felt it was time to return home. However, Remiyah's reluctance to let him go revealed her affectionate side, which Jey found utterly charming. Her clinginess was a sweet reminder of their bond, making it hard for him to walk away.
As he drove into his driveway, the sight of Jaida’s car parked there filled him with dread—what was she going to be upset about this time? Jey stepped out of the car, the sound of his keys clinking in his pocket, and made his way to the front door.
He heard the door creak open and turned to find Jaida standing there, arms crossed and a fierce expression on her face. Ignoring her, he brushed past her and tossed his keys onto the desk before heading into the kitchen to grab a drink.
Jey propped himself against the kitchen counter, sipping his drink as he observed her furiously slam the door and march toward him with determination. "Where the fuck was you at?” She questioned him.
“I told you I was at the store,” He said rolling his eyes at her.
“You were at the store all night? That’s bullshit Jey and you know it, you were with that bitch Remiyah,” Jey chose not to mention it to her, as it was undeniable that he found solace in his time with Remiyah, a stark contrast to the turmoil he experienced with Jaida.
Jey set his drink on the counter, crossing his arms as he did so. “and if I was what does that have to do with you Jaida? I don’t question about your whereabouts,” Jey shot back looking into her eyes nonchalantly.
Jaida rolled her eyes and nudged him gently, “We’re in this together, Jey! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Jey felt overwhelmed by her words; he wished he had chosen to stay with Remiyah at the hospital instead of facing this confrontation.
He took a sip of his drink as he walked by her, ignoring her furious accusations about his involvement with Remiyah and the lies about where he had been. Unfazed, he continued his ascent up the stairs to their shared bedroom, determined to tune out the chaos behind him.
“Do you hear me talking to you!”
“Jaida! Please shut the hell up! Damn, so what if I’m spending time with Remiyah she was in a damn car accident I had to make sure she was alright damn,” Jey shouted while running his fingers through his face feeling frustrated.
Jaida fell silent, unaware that the unfortunate girl had been in an accident. Nevertheless, that didn’t alter the reality that he would remain by her side for the rest of the day until nightfall. In a moment of resignation, she raised her hands in defeat, choosing to abandon the argument, as she simply lacked the time and energy to continue.
Jey finally breathed a sigh of relief, enjoying the rare moment of tranquility. In his state of calm, he completely overlooked the message from Remiyah. Once he managed to handle everything else, he resolved to reply to her.
IMESSAGE
Rem💋: Hey, I was checking in to see if you made it home safely
Jey🫶🏽: Yeah, I made it home but I might come back over there
Rem💋: why? Did something happen?
Jey🫶🏽: you can say something like that, she over here trippin about me spending time with you 🙄
Rem💋: Yikes, she sounds like a handful
Jey🫶🏽: you okay little mama?
Rem💋: I’m okay Jey just eating me some dinner before I get ready for bed for tonight
Jey🫶🏽: I miss you already
Rem💋: come back then if you miss me so much
Jey🫶🏽: hell I might if she keep bitchin fr mama
Rem💋: well when the doctor come in I’ll let her know that I have someone coming if you do show up.
Jey🫶🏽: aight mamas ttyl
Rem💋: ttyl 🫶🏽
Jey experienced a wave of relief as he sent a message to Remiyah, appreciating the unique way she showed her care and comfort. Unlike Jaida, who constantly questioned him and his activities, Remiyah's approach felt genuine and understanding, making him feel truly valued.
He could hear Jaida on the phone, venting to one of her friends about how he had been out all day with Remiyah. With a deep sigh, he stripped off his clothes and made his way to the shower.
He finished his shower and could still hear Jaida voicing her frustrations on the phone. Choosing to slip into some cozy clothes, he made his way downstairs, only to find Jaida still engrossed in her conversation, completely oblivious to his presence.
He strolled by her, slipping on his shoes and snatching his keys, which drew her gaze. “Where the hell you goin’ now? Hello! Nigga do you not hear me talking to you? Hold on girl,” Jey remained silent as he walked out the door, not uttering a single word to her.
He climbed into his car and turned on the engine, just as he noticed Jaida stepping out of the house barefoot, looking wild and unpredictable. It was a scene he had no desire to confront, especially with her now pounding on his car window.
He exited the driveway, heading straight for the hospital to be by Remiyah's side, leaving Jaida in a state of shock. Frustration washed over him; dealing with Jaida was exhausting and overwhelming.
He was determined to avoid any distractions this time; all he wanted was to be with Remiyah. She was the only one who could soothe his restless spirit and provide the comfort he craved in moments of turmoil.
He realized that Jaida wasn’t the girl he wanted but Remiyah was the girl he needed.
Jey successfully arrived at the hospital parking lot, shutting off his car as he prepared to enter the building. Approaching the receptionist, he informed her that he was there to see Remiyah, confidently making his way to the designated area.
As Jey made his way down the hallway to the left, the elevators chimed open. He knocked on Remiyah’s door, but there was no response. Curiosity piqued, he turned the handle and stepped inside, finding the room shrouded in darkness, save for a dim light flickering in the corner.
He noticed the TV was still on, so he picked up the remote beside her and turned it off. Carefully, he slipped off his shoes and set them down next to the bed. Without disturbing her, he climbed into bed beside her, placing his phone gently on the nightstand.
“J-Jey…?” Remiyah mumbled in her sleep.
He nestled close to her in bed, gently pressing his lips against hers while softly calming her with soothing whispers.
“Go back to sleep mama, get some rest,” He said pulling her closer to his body.
His phone started vibrating incessantly, prompting a deep sigh as he reached for it, noticing a flurry of unread messages from Jaida.
Jaida😘 sent 5 messages
Jaida😘: where the fuck did you go?
Jaida😘: I know you didn’t just go over there with her
Jaida😘: you know that she isn’t better than me Jey you fucking know it
Jaida😘: when you come back home we need to have a chat
Jaida😘: I hate you nigga
Jey sighed in exasperation at her message, choosing to leave it unanswered as he set his phone down on the table. He felt Remiyah stir gently in her sleep and adjusted himself in the hospital bed, ensuring she was snug against his chest. With a tender touch, he traced soothing circles on her back, hoping to bring her comfort.
He shut his eyes, embracing a wave of comfort as he released the stress accumulated from dealing with Jaida's nonsense throughout the evening, allowing himself to gently drift off into a peaceful sleep.
A/n: Jaida trippin fr fr but I hope yall enjoy this part lmk in the comments below.
STAY UCEY.
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thechaoticcheese · 3 days ago
Text
TW: Numbness, Mentions of Bruises, Yelling, Waterboarding, Torture, Lack of Care for the Reader
Wrongfully Accused - Chapter 4 - The Truth
Gaz had followed his lover and Price until the interrogation room. He watched the two enter and he stopped. His mind pounded with thoughts and his heart screaming at him that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He cursed underneath his breath before he turned back and stalked his way to the barracks. His mind was milling on who would frame the person he loved so much. There was just no way you could do something like this. And god damnit he was going to prove you innocent, or do his best trying. First things first, he has to see who knows. Soap was first. He was the closest, or at least his room was and he’d assumed that Ghost was probably still in the commons room, or somewhere farther away from Soap’s location. Gaz noticed his Scottish friend starting to make his way towards the interrogation rooms and he interacted with the Brit first. Soap seemed a bit disheveled, his brows furrowing and a concerned look plastered on his face. “Aye, Gaz, ya’know wha’ happened b’tween Price an’ Y/N? He took’em away in cuffs.” Soap sounded distressed, in a friend kind of way, worried about your safety and whatever conflict the Captain had with you. “Yeah. He suspects ‘em of bein’ the spy on the base.” Gaz said with slightly gritted teeth, the thought made his fist tighten. “I don’t believe ‘im.” “You don’t believe the Cap’n?” Soap sounded a tad surprised, knowing that Gaz and Price went on a majority of missions together when it was just a two man job. Though he also knew Gaz’s unwavering loyalty to people he heavily cared about. There must’ve been a war inside Gaz, but to Gaz, the answer was clear who was on top. “Not with this. Somethin’ is up. Imma talk to Ghost next. Can you get in contact with Laswell for me?” Gaz requested from Soap, who nodded. “Aye. You think Simon knows som’tin’?” The Scotsman asked curiously. “No tellin’. If not, I have a few more people to ask.” Gaz said, crossing his arms over his chest. His mind flashing back to the burn that was on your face. He shivered as he watched the nurse start to carve out your flesh and you just didn’t move. Soap’s gentle pat on his shoulder brought Gaz back, the mohawked man offering a comforting smile. “Good luck.” “You too.” With that, the two headed in opposite directions. Gaz had a look of determination on his face as he marched through the halls towards the commons room. His mind whirled with what he’d say when he saw Ghost. A lot of it was yelling, but he knew he’d have to approach his friend carefully. The thought of Ghost doing nothing hurt more than he thinks it should’ve. Maybe because the team was so tight knit, hearing that one of his good friends did nothing to help his significant other boiled his blood. When he reached the room, it looked like Ghost had just finished cleaning up the table. He was now standing by the sink, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the mug you were drinking from. His eyes locked onto it before they glanced over at Gaz, who was beelining it towards the taller male. “Gaz.” Ghost gruffly greeted the male before putting the cup gently in the sink. “I should hit you. Ya know.” Gaz greeted back with a growl, taking in a deep breath to calm down the anger that had been bubbling inside him as Ghost glanced a humorous look at the shorter male. While Gaz was known to jump to the extremes quite quickly, the glare Gaz was returning to the masked soldier told Ghost how much he was willing to back up the claim.
Ghost leaned onto the counter, hands gripping the edge as his fingers went into the sink, along with his gaze. It was as if he was ashamed for doing nothing, refusing to look Gaz in his eyes again, or at least for now. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. “My significant other is being tortured by Price, got burned in front of you and you did nothing, and you’re ‘sorry’?” Gaz practically lectured the older male before he took another deep breath closing his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists. He so wanted to drill Ghost’s head into the sink with one blow, but he had to keep things professional, as professional it was to yell at your friend in the commons room where people could see the two of you arguing.
“Yeah.” Ghost replied, his monotonous voice not changing. This was the closest that Gaz was going to get to a proper apology and he knew it. Though the thought of Ghost doing nothing to stop Price didn’t stop itching at his brain. “Did… Did you even try?” Gaz spoke softer, a soft crack in his voice. He tried to figure out what Ghost did. The silence spoke volumes as Ghost recalled the incident from earlier this morning. Gaz had never seen the bloke wince, but he did, making the shorter soldier wonder if Ghost watched you get burned. “No… Price…” Ghost was trying to speak, trying to explain the situation, but anything past the ‘No’, Gaz didn’t register. “You watched Price burn my partner and dragged them away and you didn’t do anything!” Gaz was ready to explode, his voice indicating that he was already there at such a loud tone. “They were hurt and you couldn’t stand up to Price to get them any bloody treatment! Did his accusation of them being the spy really change your mind that much?!” He continued to spit fire at the tall man. Ghost’s hands gripped tighter against the counter and sink. Gaz swore if he gripped it any tighter it would break. The masked man sharply turned to Gaz and jabbed his finger into his chest, making him stumble back a bit. Ghost being quick wasn’t unheard of, but that didn’t make it any less shocking when it happened. “I do not have a soft spot for traitors. If they are proven innocent I will apologize. Until then they are the enemy.” Ghost growled. The two were ready to fight there in the commons. It was just up to who would swing first. “What ‘appened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” Gaz growled back, the air thickening as he leaned into the masked man’s finger. He was challenging the taller bloke. Ghost’s brown eyes flashed in some sort of angry emotion before he sighed and moved away. While Gaz knew it wasn’t because Ghost wanted to back down, he knew that Ghost knew that it would be the best move at this point. If the taller man swung, the commons room would quickly turn into a battle ground, and that would just make everything worse. “Nothin’.” He replied in a quieter tone. Hearing the reply made Gaz chuckle softly, a quip at the tip of his tongue, but he reminded himself to stay calm. Or well, to cool down to not have a fight in the commons room. He already made Ghost get close to boiling over. “Fuckin’ right. Now follow it. I have Soap contactin’ Laswell. I need to ask Price who he got ‘is information from. Though I have a feelin’ it’s one of the blokes that came in with Y/N when they first star’ed to work here. You wanna see what you can find out?” Gaz suggested, his voice determined and calm, but that was a contrast to how he felt. He’d definitely would need a round with Ghost in the ring after all of this is over. He knew he would more than likely lose, but a chance to hone skills and hopefully make some blows, would be worth it.
“Yea. I’ll make ‘em talk.” Ghost responded standing up fully now. “Good. Imma go talk to Price then. Meet ya back here later.” Gaz said with a small smile, gently punching Ghost’s arm, “You awe me a round after this blows over.” Ghost only replied with a half-amused grunt before going to talk to the other three. Gaz felt good about himself, puffing out his chest slightly in a mini victory before pivoting back to the interrogation room. He paused at your barrack’s door. Gaz’s mind filled with apologies that he could only wish to tell you at the moment. Price had to be wrong in this situation. He usually wasn’t, but everyone slips up sometimes. Then he felt bad for lashing out at Ghost, knowing his real anger wasn't at him, nor Price, but the asshole who accused you of being the spy. Whoever it was had to be the one that’s sabotaging everything. He must’ve been there for quite some time because a hand touched his shoulder. He glanced over to see Price. He seemed slightly defeated and tired, but still angry. The blood on his gloves made Gaz want to shiver, but he held his stance. “Gaz. This… This is a ‘ard ask… But Imma need you in a few hours to ‘elp with interrogation’ Y/N-” “You fuckin’ crazy, mate?” Gaz interrupted his Captain, absolutely shocked at how easily Price let the obscene request leave his mouth. Though part of him noticed how Price winced, as if he had known what Gaz’s reaction would be. How long had the Captain been stewing on the question? “They’ll crack faster seeing that there’s no hope.” Price responded coldly. Then Gaz realized something. Price had completely put on his mission mask. One of those masks that isn’t seen, but it’s like a mental block so they could do their work. This was too hard for him to mentally handle and so he hid instead of asking questions. Gaz’s blood started to boil again, but he silently started to reason with himself. This would for sure hurt your relationship, but if you don’t do it, the others would do it just as roughly as Price. At least in this way he could make sure you don’t get it too rough and keep Price from dishing out harder punishments. Though he wasn’t going to agree without bargaining. “Aight… On two conditions.” Gaz said, Prices seemed a bit surprised. “One, you get yourself a nap, you look worse for wear. Two, you tell me who informed ya.” Price’s eyes narrowed at the Sergeant, clearly seeing the bargain, but being too tired to argue he nodded and huffed, “Nikolai… and fine. No more than two hours. In the meantime fetch me a bucket. When I wake up, fill it up with ice cold water.” Gaz nodded, and as soon as Price turned around and sulked to his room to sleep, he shivered. His mind raced. Nikolai? Nik? No… Nikolai wouldn’t… Was… Was it written? There was no way Nikolai could be the spy, everyone knew the Russian too well. Something was amiss.
Gaz quickly jogged to the commons room, or well, he tried. He almost sprinted in, looking for Soap or Ghost, his mind whirling. He spotted the two quietly conversing in the corner. Soap was in front of Ghost, pressed up against him, teasing the Brit with something or other. Gaz couldn’t entirely care what it was at this moment. He quickly headed over, watching as Ghost’s eyes went from Soap’s to his, nodding slightly in a silent greeting. Soap, seeing the nod, shifted away and turned towards Gaz with a big smile, blue eyes shining happily before he caught Gaz’s furrowed brows. The two men knew something went amiss in the plan, or unexpected at least. “We have a problem.” Gaz breathed out as soon as he had both of their attention. “The intel is from Nikolai.” “No fukin’ way.” Soap whispered out. “Yea… I’m wondering if someone forged his handwriting… As illegible as it is…” Gaz put forth his thoughts, Ghost nodded in agreement. “Do we know if he was ‘ere today, or recently?”
“No…” Ghost shook his head slightly, the mask above his eyes moving, no doubt furrowing his brows. “No, he couldn’t be. ‘im an’ Laswell have been on a mission the pas’ few days.” Soap interjected, his eyes narrowing, “We go’ a right proper rat.” He growled out.
Gaz’s fists tightened again, he wanted to find who it was and put them in the dirt now, “What else did you find out?” “Well, Laswell an’ Nik will be ova’ere as soon as they can… Mission complications… Laswell an’ Nik don’t think Y/N is the spy, though they did warn me that they’d lose all communication soon so we’ll have ta wait wit’ baited breath for their return.” “Fuck. Ghost?” “Only one I could find was Tree… Drunk out of ‘is mind. Not suitable for interrogation.” The Brit gruffly responded, anger hinted at the edge of his tone. “God damnit.” Gaz cursed under his breath, despite how much he craved to yell it. “So we have someone framing Nik, who in turn is framing Y/N, and until Nik comes back we’re sitting ducks…” “Aye…” Soap confirmed softly, offering a gently squeeze of Gaz’s shoulder. “We will ge’em out, don’ worry Gaz.” “Yeah but how soon?” He grumbled. Gaz wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel his fist hit whoever got you in this situation. For now, he had about an hour and a half to figure things out.
Now here he is. Gripping your hair and forcing you into the water that felt cold. He had iced it earlier, but then scrapped the ice and put some hotter water in so it wouldn’t be freezing like Price wanted. He wasn’t about to confront his Captain in these circumstances. He gently pulled your head out of the water as you gasped for air, spitting water out of your mouth as your lungs demanded air. “You gon’ talk now? Or are we gonna take it up a notch?” Price asked, his face getting close to yours as his eyes narrowed. You looked at Price through somewhat closed eyes. “Fuck off.” You manage to murmur out through your sore throat. “Dunk ‘em.”
It’s been weeks. You’re weaker than you’ve ever felt in your life. Between being beaten and starved, your will to even consider forgiving anyone on 141 was slipping. The last thread that you held onto tightly was Gaz’s. You wrapped his thread around your hand tightly until it started to cut your fingers, your blood making the thread slippery, each drop from when he’d hurt you. Eventually. He did stop coming. Your grip on his thread was slowly loosening. It had been 21 days, 3 weeks, since you were brought here. You’ve gone numb to so many things, Price’s words, the cold cement, the aches and pains in your body. The way Gaz would sneak you small rations. It hurt you. Having to be secretly fed and begging every single time Gaz had to leave you to not go.
Three weeks of being interrogated to the point that it didn’t matter what happened after this. You were resigning. You wouldn’t sue, though the thought has crossed your mind multiple times. Worst part is, you found who it was. Price just wouldn’t believe you. By day 15, you shut up. Not a word had left your mouth for 6 days. Gaz had been gone for a day and that’s when you found out. It was Quail. Fucking Tree. He let you in on all of his little secrets as he toyed with you, adding to the bruises that decorated your skin as he tried to ‘beat the information’ out of you. You hope he’d burn in hell. You now knew, or well, used to know what was happening. He planted a letter for Price, claiming it to be Nik, but due to the secrecy had to use newspaper clippings, and it was because he and Laswell found sensitive information on their mission about said spy. They just sent Tree to collect it after they sent it to a burner address that everyone knew of, it was just his day to check it. And Price fell for the bait. You couldn’t say a damn thing about their plans though. If you did, you’d be the spy, but if you didn’t, you’d be a traitor after being proven innocent. It fits in your mind, a traitor in a group of traitors.
Soon, someone gripped by your hair, your eyes focusing on the oh so familiar boots of your beloved Captain. Your weak body was limp as Price pulled you from the corner he left you in just hours before, dragging your body across the floor. He then set you up in the chair in the center of the room. “I got a real treat for ya later. Someone’s coming to visit.” Price growled out, looking into your defeated eyes, “You best hope they don’t keep this up.”
You refused to respond. He huffed, gripping the chair and staring into you with hatred, “You’ve been a thorn in my side these past few weeks.If you weren’t so damn important, you would be dead by now” The words were supposed to phase you. They did, but only a little, mainly because being dead sounded like a nice relief. Seeing how ineffective his words were, he growled, winding his arm back to punch you square in the jaw before the door busted open, causing both you and Price to look at the open door that swung open with so much force that it bounced off of the wall it hit. “Enough, John.” Laswell’s voice loudly cracked through the room, seeing Laswell holding Tree by his hair and wrist. “We’ve got the actual traitor, release them.” Your heart fluttered, seeing Nikolai and Gaz right behind her, as if two guards guiding someone, who didn’t need to be guarded mind you, and their dangerous captive. Though, you were only glad to see Nikolai and Laswell. Your heart couldn’t decide if Gaz earned that right in the fuzziness in your chest after everything. After all, your limp hand barely held the string.
Price’s eyes widened, stepping away as his mind turned. You could tell that he was processing the information as Laswell pushed Tree inside the room, Gaz and Nikolai both following immediately. Nik went straight for Price, consoling the man and quickly ushering out of the room. His voice was too soft for you to pick up any semblance of words, that, and you were barely paying attention. You knew Price’s world must’ve been rocked considering what Tree had already told you. You could barely register Gaz taking off your cuffs and tightening around the traitorous male’s wrist, not caring if he complained that it was too tight.
Good. You sickly thought as you heard the clicking of the cuffs.
Gaz brought you up off of the chair, wrapping your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to let you walk, but your body refused. Your mind was still numb to everything, trying to figure out if it could even walk. When you crumbled towards the floor, Gaz scooped you up in his arms. Gaz’s soft and sweet voice softly murmuring apologies. How he tried to get there sooner, but they were waiting on Nikolai and Laswell, but they had to be rescued after weeks of no contact. Price was stuck here and just took his anger out on you since he assumed you were a part of it. You didn’t respond. Part of you didn’t believe him.
The look of dread was sinking into Gaz as he made glances down to your body. While Price didn’t break anything, he dislocated so many things, only relocating them when he got pissed enough. It felt like some might’ve been broken then, but you weren’t sure. Gaz had sped up his walk as you barely recognize Soap’s worried blue eyes as Gaz bulldozed past the Scot.
The amount of care you felt for the world around you was non-existence and it worried Gaz. Every fiber of his being convinced that he was way too late, but he’d try. He’d try so damn hard to get his little angel back.
You heard words exchanged between a different medic than the one before and Gaz. Though as soon as your body felt the softer feeling of the cot, you passed out. Welcoming any softer feeling of an object compared to the cold feeling of the concrete you’d spent the previous nights on. When you woke up, you were covered in bandaids, wrappings, and a few splints on your fingers. You glanced down to see an IV in your arm, and, moving past your better judgement, you ripped it out with nothing more than a soft grunt. It alerted the new medic who swiftly came over, mumbling to themself as you stood up on shaky legs. “Hey! Hey! Sit back down. You need to rest.” He instructed, gently trying to keep you on the bed, but you refused. You still had strength in your body, more than you realized. Perhaps it was just your mental will power that was dead. “No…” Your raspy voice spoke, startling the medic. “I want to return to my room.” He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. “If you let me and my colleagues check in on you every hour on the hour… F-Fine.” You knew this wasn’t allowed, but the lacking care in your body showed, cause the medic seemed absolutely scared shitless by your gaze. You must’ve given him one hell of a glare.
He helped you to your room, always there for your stumbles as you partly wondered where the hell Gaz was. You would’ve sworn he’d be by your side after all of this, but he wasn’t there when you woke. The question soon answered itself as the medic flicked on the light to your room. Your bed was covered with new bedding, stuffed animals, flowers, pillows, anything and everything a lover could do to comfy up the military beds. Though no Gaz. Was he hoping to do a big reveal once you were better? It didn’t matter now. The surprise was ruined and you couldn’t care how nice it looked. Not like you’d choose to remember.
The scene in front of you didn’t affect the deadness in your heart. You just wanted to sleep somewhere more familiar than the medical bay. You stumbled over with the medic’s help. He was about to help you to the side of the bed before you took your arm and wiped off as much as you could, dumping a good chunk of it onto the floor. The only thing that remained was a brown stuffed teddy bear and the new pillows. The teddy bear was holding a heart that you only noticed after grabbing it to huck it onto the ground. You assumed that what it said on the heart was something cheap, before you paused. You noticed how the message was hand-sewn into a heart, that was a bit-lopsided, but also hand made. ‘To my Angel. You will forever be in my heart. No matter where we are.’ It read. Was it still sappy? Sewn in a bit sloppily? Absolutely, but you settled into bed with it. The stuffed bear held tightly against your chest as the medic carefully tucked you in.
“See you in an hour.” He said softly, carefully nudging the gifts on the ground towards the wall to be picked up later, before turning off the light to the room and leaving you alone. The darkness made your mind scream in fear, but the tiredness in your body gagged it as you finally closed your eyes to sleep against the mattress that felt so soft. Your arms had a death grip on the teddy bear. Its soft fur brushed against the bandages on your arms and chest. You wish you could feel how soft its fur was, but your body was being held together by the medical fabric. Soon, you were able to drift off to sleep with a soft warmness towards Gaz once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed glances at word count 4,027 words of this! I was debating on putting it in two parts, but.... Nah. You guys just get one BIG chapter. Y'all get two more chapters of angst and fluff until it ends. Not sure when it'll be posted cause my mind be everywhere lol. Inspire by this post.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
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diamonddaze01 · 2 days ago
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고맙다
pairing: ljh x reader genre: hurt-comfort (kae im sorry) | wc: 1.4k warnings: none | rating: pg a/n: for my 400 follower celebration -> @ylangelegy lyrics lab + “i wanted to become your tomorrow so i lived in the today” (thanks) // this is a (kind-of) spin off to us, again (but can be read alone) // kae i am sorry dont hurt me it ends well i swear.
The rain was soft but constant, like a whisper that hadn’t yet learned to quiet down. The sound of it tapping gently against the windows filled the silence of Jihoon’s studio, his hands frozen mid-task as he watched you from the doorframe. You stood there, not quite sure whether to step inside or remain in the hallway, as if the space between you and him was more than just the width of the door.
It had been months. Maybe half a year? Jihoon had lost track of time the moment you’d asked for a break. The day he left your apartment was still a vivid blur, a moment he replayed in his mind over and over, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. There were a thousand reasons why he’d never reached out. A thousand excuses he fed himself to make it feel like it was just something that had to happen. But in the deepest part of his chest, the place where he kept all the things he wouldn’t say aloud, he still missed you. He still felt your absence every time he walked into the studio, every time he poured a cup of coffee, every time he sat down to write music.
And now you were standing there, a few feet away from him. The ghost of what once was, the thing he’d never let himself forget.
“Can we talk?” Your voice was a little shaky, but you stood there with an open vulnerability, as if you had prepared for this moment even though you were uncertain of the outcome. Your eyes darted between his, as though you were trying to gauge how much of him was still the person you once knew, and how much of him had changed.
Jihoon didn’t respond right away. He didn’t know if he could, not without giving in to the feeling creeping up his throat. The one that said maybe, just maybe, you were still something worth fighting for.
“What’s there to talk about?” he finally muttered, his tone a little too cold, a little too detached. He wasn’t sure how else to respond. He had spent so long building walls around himself, convincing himself that you weren’t a part of his present anymore. He couldn’t afford to let that slip.
You took a step forward, your eyes soft with uncertainty. “I don’t know, Jihoon. Maybe... maybe I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”
There it was—the thing he never let himself think about too much. You asking what happened was like peeling back a scab that had barely healed. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him when you brought it up, couldn’t ignore the fact that he had failed you in ways he hadn’t even fully realized until now.
Jihoon looked away for a moment, unwilling to meet your gaze directly. He knew what you wanted—what you were hoping for—but he didn’t know how to give it to you. The pieces of him that had been holding onto you were all tangled up in regret. “What happened?” he repeated softly, almost to himself. “I don’t know. I thought maybe if I... kept my distance, kept working, it would get easier. But I was wrong. I guess we were wrong.”
Your face softened, as if your heart had just cracked open a little, just enough to let him see it. “I thought about it, Jihoon. About what we were, what we could have been,” you said quietly, stepping closer, just enough to bridge the gap but not enough to make him feel cornered. “And I thought maybe... maybe I wasn’t the right person for you, or maybe you weren’t the right person for me. But now, standing here, I don’t think I can just keep pretending that’s how it works.”
Jihoon let out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk as he tried to find words that wouldn’t sound weak. The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to admit how much he missed you. How much he had wanted to fight for you, but had kept telling himself that time would heal everything. That you were just another chapter in his life that needed to be closed, but the more he tried to lock it away, the more it kept coming back.
“I kept thinking... maybe if I just moved forward, if I just stayed focused on what’s next, I’d stop wanting you. I’d stop thinking about you. But that’s not how it works, is it?” His voice was softer now, as if all the bravado had slipped away, leaving only the truth.
You shook your head slowly, the motion so familiar, so comforting, that Jihoon almost didn’t want to look away. “No, it’s not. We never really... gave ourselves a chance to be in the present, Jihoon. We kept thinking about the future, about what we could become. But maybe... maybe we should’ve just focused on today. On what we were, what we still could be.”
His heart thudded painfully in his chest. There it was—the words he had never been brave enough to speak. The ones that had been sitting at the back of his mind, waiting to be freed. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I never gave you the chance to be with me like that. I thought I had time, thought I had all the time in the world to make things right, but... now I don’t know how to do that.”
Your eyes softened, but there was something else in them, something deep that he couldn’t quite read. You took a deep breath, as though you had made up your mind about something, and it was in that moment that Jihoon realized you had never really stopped caring. Not even after everything.
“I was so focused on tomorrow,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain, “that I forgot to appreciate the moments we had, the moments that mattered right now.”
Jihoon swallowed hard, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Maybe I did the same.”
You stepped closer, closing the space between you both, and this time, Jihoon didn’t hesitate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, the touch almost tentative, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, your fingers intertwined, and for the first time in months, everything felt... right. Not perfect, not neatly wrapped in a bow, but real.
Jihoon’s eyes dropped to where your hands held his. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “Can I kiss you?”
The question caught you off guard, and a tear slipped down your cheek as a soft, incredulous laugh bubbled out of you. “Yes, you idiot,” you said, your voice breaking as you reached for him. “Please kiss me.”
And then his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was grounding, steady, and filled with all the things neither of you had the courage to say aloud. Your warmth, the familiarity, the way your hand cradled his cheek—it was everything he hadn’t realized he missed.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. “I missed you,” he murmured, the words so quiet they almost melted into the sound of the rain.
You smiled through your tears, your hands still resting lightly on his cheeks. “I missed you too, Jihoon.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, the silence between you no longer heavy, but comforting.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Jihoon asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but he needed to hear it, needed to know if there was a chance for them.
You looked up at him, your eyes filled with something like hope, but also like you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. “We take it one step at a time,” you said softly. “We don’t rush. We just... we just live in today. Together.”
Jihoon nodded slowly, the truth of it settling in his chest like a quiet storm. He had spent too long living in the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. Maybe it was time to stop looking ahead, to stop worrying about tomorrow, and just... live. With you. Today.
And as the rain continued to fall outside, Jihoon held you like you were something he didn’t deserve but would spend the rest of his life trying to. One step at a time, he thought. Today. Together.
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spacegyaru · 2 days ago
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i can't take this edit off from my mind... i knew i have to write something about nagi 😭
cw: 18+ only! minors, dni pls! also, all characters are aged 21+. sexual themes ahead! also, mentions of alcohol and sm0king! / nagi as ur boy best friend (with benefits ;3) /also, he's a bit of a st0ner here so high s3x!
imagine nagi seishiro as your boy best friend who just wanna comfort you after a devastating breakup.
it wasn't supposed to happen like this. nagi was supposed to be your best friend. but it happened anyways.
you were so heartbroken after finding out that your bf cheated on you with another girl. you immediately broke up with him and you ended up crying and driving while on the way to nagi's house.
so you actually end up there. nagi saw you crying. your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy.
nagi knew that your bf, now ex, is an asshole. but he's bad at feelings so he tells you something in between the lines of 'i told you so'.
you had a small argument with nagi but you tried to avert the topic by saying that you don't wanna talk about it. so nagi sighed and said that you could stay for the night while the both of you smoke and drink together.
so you started smoking some weed with him... it started off as just a small session between the both of you, with some strong beer involved of course. both of you were playing tekken while doing it.
somehow, while ranting about your ex, you said something in between the lines of 'he's not even good in bed' and boi you got his attention
you started saying things like 'his cock is too small', 'he can't kiss properly', 'it doesn't even hit the back of my throat', or 'he never made me squirt'...
now, nagi just looked at you weirdly. he asked you: "if he's gonna call you right now, are you going to pick up?"
of course, as a heartbroken girl, you didn't say anything at first... but you nodded and said "i'm sorry okay, i'm just a human..." before grabbing ur phone and checking if your ex texted
nagi rolled his eyes and tossed it on the bed. as you were trying to reach it, it caused you to fall on his lap.
well, for some reason, it started with doing a sh0tgun (sm0king thru the mouth)— then you ended up making out, not even minding the game anymore.
the clothes started to come off and eventually... both of you ended up fucking on his bed.
and that was the first time you actually felt good about it and orgasmed.
seishiro nagi flipped you in three fucking positions— and you can't even count how many times you came from his touch and from his cock.
the w33d even made the feeling better. nagi's touch felt sensual yet intense.
the morning after came and you realized what just happened. you looked at nagi with wide eyes and apologized, immediately putting on your clothes and running away. he was still half-asleep when you did this.
not gonna lie, the night felt so good and despite the w33d, you were still conscious. and fucking him was a fully-conscious decision. but you just didn't expect the aftermath to be so damn awkward.
that same night, your best friend, nagi called you— now, it's your choice to pick it up or not. 😉
okay guys im sorry for edging yall again but i might make pt. 2 for this too— im currently finishing the pt. 2 for kaiser's story 😌
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prezohhh · 2 days ago
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as someone whose ACTUALLY queer, im not trying to attack you here, im being genuine in saying that its WILD you're justifying your behavior just bc adin is worse. you think it's harmless to "pretend to be gay" just so you can make jokes about gay men & think it somehow gives you the right to use the f-slur. something many ACTUAL gay men don't even say. just bc your community thinks there's nothing wrong with it & you have gay guys like Austin who think it's funny doesn't mean it is. it's not only cringey af, but it's so offensive to use the f-slur. you're not a gay man. you don't get to use that word. the fact that you don't see a problem w saying "i'm just calling myself gay while making fun of myself & my community".. so you're making fun of being gay? what's there to make fun about? what's so funny about being gay? i truly thought u were gay for so long bc i thought there's no way a straight dude is pretending to be gay as a "joke" so he can say the f-slur. that's fucking insane. i can't believe you don't see your privilege. you can "pretend" to be gay & use the f-slur online but the second u get offline you don't have to deal w ANY of the shit us queer people do. you can walk away from "being gay", we can't. just bc adin is worse doesn't mean what you're doing is fine. tbh i don't understand how you got your progressive friends to go along w this bc it's fucked up. you'll never know the experience of internalized homophobia & hating yourself bc you're queer bc you grew up being called the f-slur, being told to kys, and seeing the way the world treats queer ppl. just to log onto twt to see some straight dude w a girlfriend using the f-slur bc he thinks it's funny. like i genuinely want u to consider that what you're doing is offensive. austin doesn't speak for entire the gay community, just bc he's cool with it doesn't mean it's cool. it's offensive & annoying & cringe & lame & you're not an ally to the community. love u honey
-text from my mom
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