#that or feel eternally guilty about it

[grunklefordpines]

ONE OF THESE DAYS, YOU’LL WISH TO UNSEE THE THINGS YOU HAVE WITNESSED. EVERYONE CRACKS AT SOME POINT. LIFE IS MUCH BETTER WHEN YOU ARE BLISSFULLY UNAWARE, FREE FROM THE CONSTRAINTS OF YOUR OWN MIND. YOU SAY YOU’RE HAPPY TO LEARN FROM YOUR MEMORIES, BUT EVENTUALLY, YOU’LL BREAK. AFTER ALL, THERE’S SO MANY HORRIBLE THINGS TO DIG UP FROM YOUR PAST…

-👁️❌

Do you think that I don’t “Wish to unsee the things I have witnessed,” already?

Do you think I never considered it in the past?

I can’t.

It’s not because of the metal plate. It’s not because we’re supposed to experience hardship in order to grow—

It’s because it’d be unfair to my family and to myself.

Everything they’ve done for me—Everything that I’ve never felt worthy of receiving—Would be for nothing—Everything Mabel and Stan are doing to try and fix something they didn’t even break—I don’t want any of them to have to try and fix another thing because I tried to find a shortcut—They don’t deserve that.

I don’t deserve it.

[wundrousarts]

Something I’ve noticed for awhile is that I often get comments from people about how they are surprised how I always come up with theories and try to guess what might happen and they “could never do that” themselves. I want to say: yes you can! There’s honestly a shortage of Nevermoor theories and ideas and speculation and etc and I want to see MORE!!!

Want to talk about how Morrigan’s mom is actually secretly alive? How the Scholar Mistresses are a Wundrous Act? Do you think the Tempus Divinity looks like an owl, or do you think Weaving and Ruination would be met together? Or have you ever thought about how this one line, from Chapter 19 of Nevermoor, about Betram Crow actually means he was a Cursed Child? Whatever it is you want to talk about: GO FOR IT!!!

I personally find it very fun to go sort of “English class mode” and look at the text in front of me and think about what different things might mean and analyze it and even overthink it to an unnecessary (but fun!) amount. But that’s just me and how I like to approach things! You don’t need to make long posts and quote specific lines if that isn’t your style. The big thing to remember is that so much can happen in the next six books, so throw any idea out there! You never know what twists and turns will be thrown at us. I think it’s fun to share these ideas and discuss with other people— sure, maybe there’s just something you missed when reading, but perhaps some new ideas spawn might from it. Some speculation could even serve as inspiration for fics!

There are some theories and thoughts that I’ve posted that have been “debunked” when I reread a book, or when someone pointed out something, or even just when something had a real-world basis that I as an American didn’t catch. But it was still fun to think about it all, and there’s some bits and pieces that I see as notable and worth considering. I think most of the Silverborn Masterpost is going to be “wrong”, but if just 1% of it is “correct”, even indirectly, I will take that as a win. I know it feels like during the hiatus everyone’s talked about everything, but I hope that the incoming communal reread (fingers crossed) and obviously Silverborn brings some speculation back to the fandom because I want to discusssssss!

[patolemus]

Stiles sits in the front row at the funeral.

He’s next to Mellisa, who hasn’t been able to stop crying since she got the news. Stiles’ dad had organized the whole thing, talking with the funerary home and picking up the coffin and the arrangements. He’d only asked Melissa what she wanted on the headstone.

Raphael had showed up the day after. For the first time in his life, he’d looked a mess, hair everywhere and clothes wrinkled as he stormed into the house asking what had happened to his son, tears already gathering in his eyes before he even got a look at Melissa’s face. Stiles hadn’t made fun of him. Stiles hadn’t said anything at all. Raphael sits on Melissa’s other side now, and she grips his hand tight enough it turns white. He hasn’t been back for five years.

God, Scott hadn’t seen his had for five years, and now he’s dead. Scott’s dead.

Stiles thinks it still hasn’t sunk in. He’s in the middle of his best friend’s funeral - it’s closed casket because his body was so mangled up that the EMPs could barely recognize him. Stiles had heard his dad on the phone with one of his deputies talking about it, before he’d realized just whose body they were talking about - and it still hasn’t clicked that Scott won’t be coming out of his casket, that this isn’t some kind of sick practical joke for getting him out of bed the night before school started.

Stiles is not crying. He hasn’t cried once since hearing the news. His dad is crying, sitting on his other side. Scott’s like a second son to him.

Was. Scott was like a second son to him. Was because he’s gone now. Because he’s dead.

Scott’s dead.

His best friend since preschool is dead. His brother is dead. The kindest, most caring person in the world is dead. Stiles goaded him into going to the preserve to look for half a dead body - and God, he’s such an asshole. A dead body? What was he even thinking? - and now Scott doesn’t even get to show his face at his own funeral because whatever killed him barely left any of him to bury.

If only he’d stayed. If only he’d told his dad Scott was with him that night instead of leaving him there. But no, Stiles hadn’t wanted Scott to get grounded because he dragged him out of bed, so he’d kept quiet. Even when he’d seen the pair of red eyes and that— that thing in the corner of his eye. Stiles hadn’t said anything. He thought they’d laugh about it at lunch the next day.

Now Scott’s dead.

Scott is dead.

And Stiles knows exactly what did it.

(He’s going to fucking kill it.)

[sillypiratelife]

When Sanji sacrifices himself he's aware of what he's doing. He knows exactly what is at stake and how much he's given and why his act is bad to others or himself, why it must be done either way. From what I see, it's a reflection of his self-esteem and his desire to put others first, it's guilt and it's self-punishment and he knows, okay?

When Zoro sacrifices himself he's insane, batshit crazy. He doesn't want to die per se, he doesn't hate himself and doesn't do it out of punishment. His dreams are bigger than his life, they are more valuable, so he's never afraid to put his life at risk when it comes to fulfilling what he thinks his duty is. You could say it's his honor or his code of life— Zoro can survive the deadliest wounds, the worst circumstances, 'cause he doesn't seek death, it's just that he won't avoid it either.

I love that contrast and how clear it is during the encounter of Zoro and Mihawk in Baratie.

[curapicas]

Fumetsu no anata e spoilers-

I feel defensive for liking Kahak LMAO. he's so cringe.

he does however haunt the narrative by the ambiguity his position in the group brings, by not escaping his family's curse yet bringing about change in both his family' situation and in Fushi's perspective, by being enough to make Fushi not immediately bristle to the thought of Hayase's bllodline, by being the one Hayase descendant we saw Fushi ever transform into. He's by admission not smart enough to be a knocker's ally, yet his last move is to outsmart both Fushi's enemies and the knocker. He's both remembered in a worse light by those who lived with him and in a better light by Fushi who couldn't trust him yet feels responsible for his suicide. Also his character design, as all Hayase's reencarnations do, rocks

yet. YET. This is all neatly wrapped inside a cringe yandere-in-training who doesn't like Fushi's friends and his every word is tailored to make you feel embarrassed. He's like 17, learned all he knows about love from books and after he lent those for Fushi to read, made a marriage proposal. How do I even come back from this.

[midnightsslut]

.

[mythvoiced]

it's five o'clock in the evening when the video call comes through from lí chényǔ's number --- though the moment the camera turns on, it becomes immediately obvious that the man himself isn't the one placing the call. wendy's face mostly fills the screen, her eyes wide with concern, gaze flitting side to side as if she's attempting to be sneaky. she carefully ( pointedly ) adjusts the angle of the camera just right, such that the patch of damp, discolored plaster ( and the black mold splotched across it ) in the corner of the ceiling comes into view. all the rain has set it to leaking again; even as she videos it, several drops of water fall and land on the cluttered floor beneath, soaking into some ratty old towels that have long since ceased to serve their purpose in keeping what little free floor space there is dry.

in the background, a tv is playing faintly --- by the sound of it, a game show from the mainland. chopsticks clink against a bowl --- michael. wendy glances over at him where he sits next to her on the cramped bottom bunk, then back to the camera. the rain pounds against the single-pane glass; the wind rattles the window in its frame, whistling around the nonexistent weatherstripping. someone coughs as if they're drowning in their own lungs --- lí chényǔ. wendy's face falls, and she surreptitiously tilts the camera just enough to capture the scene.

lí chényǔ sits hunched on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a heavy comforter, a thermometer hanging from the corner of his mouth. his head rests heavily in one hand, a smouldering cigarette perched precariously between his fingers; even from this angle, the unhealthy flush on his cheeks is obvious. the thermometer beeps, and he scrutinizes it, expressionless.

"gēge," wendy asks, "what's it say ?"

"méishénme," lí chényǔ replies hoarsely, with a dismissive wave of his hand. he turns away from his younger siblings, then sneezes violently twice, unable to stop himself from groaning faintly in discomfort afterwards.

michael glances over at wendy, then takes advantage of lí chényǔ's distraction while searching for tissues to snatch the thermometer away from him. "chénchén, why's your temperature 103 ?" he asks worriedly, reaching out rub lí chényǔ's back when his big brother starts coughing again. "you're sick, please don't go play tonight, look how bad the weather is !"

"i won't be long," lí chényǔ whispers in mandarin ( it seems to hurt him to talk. ) "i just ... need to make enough to buy something so i won't cough all night and keep you both up. you have school tomorrow." there's a beat; lí chényǔ sniffles miserably, then turns to wendy. "wénxīn, i need my phone --- "

the video cuts off abruptly. and then ---

[ text to / 徐文哲 ]: its wendy he says hes going to busk at union square when the rain stops. winnie gege what do i do 😭 chenchen is so sick and im scared 😭😭

[ for wenzhe, from lí chényǔ / @xiianxias ! ]

@xiianxias | annabel & lcy rip len's heart apart hours~

There's a lot Wenzhe associates Lí ChénYǔ to. Mostly things he doesn't want to speak out loud because they're romantic and flowery, dreamy and ridiculous. Certain hands and caresses of a musician, little habits and that contrasting cigarette, the tenderness of a good man coupled with the harshness of the world sitting on his back.

Eyes with enough in them to fill the basin of the sea stretching between this coast and the mainland. Tentative speech and the intelligence hiding behind the language barrier, broad shoulders nearly solely in the metaphorical sense because if his sleeves slip his arms are thin, a brother and father both, someone a thousand times better than Wenzhe will ever be without ever asking to be considered anything more than just capable enough to be allowed to continue being capable, that little smile and the Mandarin Wenzhe mouths after him and pretends it's not to imitate his lips.

Enough to get lost about, enough to lose focus during classes, enough to stop at corners and create connections between a busker he's not and the music he plays, between a drugstore and that terrible cough, between a restaurant and warm food he'd like his siblings to taste.

A whole lot of things.

He often forgets this part.

The cough. The look in those basins of the sea. The siblings. The hope. Careful. The sense of responsibility. The weight on those shoulders.

Wenzhe thinks of the beautiful man and the notes of one of the saddest instruments the world has created and too often doesn't associate its solemnity to its player.

Wenzhe almost walks into a pole.

In and out of a campus café where he works on his way back home, the food there isn't glamorous or gourmet, or even fresh at this hour, but it's soft and pastry, it's sweet, it's never as high-class as all Vienna has to offer in terms of chocolate and desserts, but it fills the stomach and makes sweet-tooth's sigh. Wenzhe doesn't quite know how to ask 'is it all right' and 'what do you like', so he forewent the mortification and just bought the damn thing.

If Lí ChénYǔ likes it, good, if he doesn't, mark it down for next time.

Now it feels heavy in his hands.

The call cuts too abruptly. He'd been too focused on not frowning at his screen, on ignoring the pain of slamming his shoulder into the pole to narrowly avoid it, on wrapping his mouth around the first syllables of 'what's wrong did something happen-' before Wendy beats him too it and knocks the words back off his tongue.

He tries not to panic. And almost sways with the relief at getting a text.

He didn't know what his brain had computed could have happened between Lí ChénYǔ's cough, Mandarin he doesn't understand, and Wendy suddenly disappearing off his screen. But if his heart races any faster, he'll lose it and his hair within the next 24 hours.

[ unsent text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm on my way, tell him if he tries to go out i'll

He halts in his power-walk and nearly slams into someone.

He'll what, exactly. They're not that close. Or… are they? No, they are. But… he'll what. What could he hold against him?

What can you hold against someone you want to give the world to?

He slams his phone onto his forehead and tries again.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm on my way, once i'm there i'll figure out how to help him, okay? thank you for calling me.

A frown.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] you did well! always call me in situations like these, okay?

Or maybe… not?

He's jogging by the time he's decided he'll overthink it later, and by the time the alley's in sight, and his phone is stuck to his ear, he'll figure he'll be put back in his place soon enough, if Wendy picks up.

[somejerkguy]

I just get told so many times "you just haven't found the right people"

other people pick up relationships of all kinds over their whole lives though? and those people float in and out of each other's lives, stay in touch, catch up when they can

like. I don't think it's unreasonable to not try again when every single person I've cared about has closed the door behind them on the way out

[snekdood]

i really dont think i actually deserved all that bullshit. the internets traumatized me now at this point and literally no ones gonna care unless my abuser is honest and its so fucking exhausting.

[taeminworship]

I don't have anything new to say but I just. love Eternal so much and I'm so happy for him and me that he's gotten to be involved with every detail and we get to experience it! I'm so proud of him for this work and how much it's an accumulation of his career. I just love how very Taemin Eternal is. As I saw someone on yt say, he's once again proved his only competition is himself

[glindyupland]

.

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐨 𝐩 𝐞 𝐧 𝐚 𝐫 𝐦 𝐬 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! an unlikely alliance between the pogues and rafe forms as suspicions point to a familiar kook being behind the leaked video, but without proof, the tension’s impossible to ignore. the group teams up (sort of) to figure it out, but the kook-pogue divide is hanging by a thread, and it’s only a matter of time before things blow up.

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: angst , softdom!rafe , sexual content + unprotected shower sex! , fingering , squirting , pogues accidentally hear you and rafe , some fluff , stalker , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 7.6k

notes: this is chapter four of my nobody gets me series. click the links below to read the first chapters! ♡

chapter one: 𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

rafe’s jaw clenched tightly, the muscles ticking as he pressed his phone against his ear, trying to hold back his frustration. ward’s voice droned on from the other end of the line, sharp and condescending, the lecture having gone on for what felt like an eternity.

“—jeopardizing everything, rafe,” ward snapped, his tone cutting through the line like a knife. “our family name is being slandered all over obx, and for what? some girl?”

rafe’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles white as his other hand balled into a fist at his side. “it’s not just some girl,” he growled, his voice low.

“oh, really?” ward shot back, the sarcasm in his voice grating. “because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’ve let some fling drag our name through the mud. rose is getting calls from everyone for god’s sake! do you even understand the kind of damage this is doing?”

rafe’s breath came in sharp bursts as he stared at the wall, his anger barely contained. “i’m handling it,” he said through gritted teeth, though even he wasn’t sure if he believed it anymore.

“handling it?” ward laughed coldly. “you’ve got a sex tape floating around the island, and the entire town knows it’s you. how, exactly, are you handling it, rafe?”

“just trust me, okay?” rafe snapped, his voice rising. “i’ll take care of it.”

“trust you?” ward scoffed. “you can’t even keep your name—and our family’s name—out of the gutter. you think i’m going to trust you to clean this up? you’d better figure it out fast, rafe, because i’m not letting this ruin everything i’ve built.”

the line went dead before rafe could respond, the sound of the call disconnecting echoing in his ears. his hand trembled as he lowered the phone, his entire body tense with rage. “fucking perfect,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the phone onto the couch as he paced the room, the weight of ward’s words pressing down on him like a boulder.

from the doorway, you stood with your arms crossed, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek as rafe’s raised voice echoed through the room. you hadn’t meant to listen in, but with the way he was practically shouting into the phone, it was impossible not to overhear.

each word dripped with frustration and anger, and though you couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, it wasn’t hard to piece together who he was talking to—or what they were talking about. the tension in his tone, the clipped way he spit out his words, made it clear: this wasn’t just an argument, it was a full-blown fight.

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty for standing there, but something kept you rooted in place. maybe it was the way his shoulders tensed with every sharp word, or how he gripped the phone like it was the only thing holding him together. you’d never seen him like this, so unfiltered, so completely on edge.

“rafe?” you finally spoke, your voice soft, almost hesitant, as if you were afraid of how he might respond.

his blazed, anger-filled eyes snapped to yours, but the moment he saw you, they softened instantly. the tension in his body seemed to dissipate just slightly, his shoulders dropping. it had been a few days since the video had spread across the island, and this was one of the first times he’d seen you standing on your own.

the sight tugged at his chest. for most of that time, you’d been curled up in his bed, hidden beneath the layers of his oversized hoodie, refusing to eat or even speak to him. it had him worried sick, pacing between his room and the kitchen, trying to figure out how to help you without making things worse.

now, seeing you out of that self-imposed cocoon, he felt a flicker of hope, but also the weight of knowing you were still hurting.

“hey,” he said softly, his tone shifting completely, the frustration from his call gone. “you… you okay?” he asked, his voice careful, as if he were afraid to push too hard and send you retreating again. it was a simple question, but the way he looked at you, like you were the most important thing in the world, made it clear that it wasn’t just small talk. he needed to know—he had to know—that you were okay.

he stepped closer, his movements slow, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of what you were feeling. the silence stretched between you for a moment, heavy and unspoken.

instead of answering, you nodded toward the couch where his phone now sat after being tossed in anger. “daddy dearest, i assume?” you said quietly, your tone laced with a mix of exhaustion and faint humor, though your heart wasn’t really in it.

rafe’s jaw tightened briefly at your words, but then he let out a small, humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “he’s… not exactly thrilled about the current situation.”

he glanced at you, his eyes scanning your face carefully, as though trying to gauge your reaction. “it’s all about the family name, the reputation. nothing new,” he added bitterly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

you stayed silent for a moment, your arms crossing over your chest as you studied him. “you okay?” you finally asked, your voice softer this time.

rafe blinked at your question, surprised. he’d been so focused on worrying about you these past few days that he hadn’t even thought about how he must’ve looked to you—worn down, tense, and barely keeping it together. “me?” he said, letting out a short, dry laugh. “i’m fine. it’s you I’m worried about.”

his gaze softened as he stepped closer, his hand hovering near your arm like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him touch you. “you don’t have to worry about him,” he murmured. “or anyone else. i’ll deal with it.”

you smiled softly, not bothering to answer, and instead stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. his body stiffened for a split second, like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he relaxed into you, his arms circling your waist tightly, as if he was afraid to let go.

now that you were this close, you could see it—how exhausted he really was. the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders that didn’t seem to ease even as he held you. rafe had been carrying just as much as you, if not more, and the realization made your chest ache.

his hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair as he sighed against your shoulder. “i missed you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the vulnerability in his tone catching you off guard. “these past few days… you scared me.”

you tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his neck. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words muffled but heartfelt. you hadn’t meant to shut him out, but the weight of everything had been too much, and now, standing here in his arms, you felt a flicker of regret for not letting him in sooner.

“it’s okay,” he replied softly, pulling back just enough to look at you. his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he studied you with those piercing blue eyes that held equal parts concern and relief. “just… don’t do that again, okay? i can’t—i don’t want to lose you.”

your lips parted, but no words came. instead, you nodded, leaning into his touch, letting the silence between you carry the weight of everything unspoken. slowly, you moved closer, your lips just inches from his when his phone, still resting on the couch, buzzed loudly, breaking the moment.

rafe groaned, running a hand down his face. “can never have anything, i swear,” he mumbled as he reluctantly reached for the phone after sitting. his annoyance only deepened when he saw the caller id: sarah.

her name flashing across the screen made his jaw tighten, the memory of their last argument still raw. he hesitated for a moment before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what?” he snapped, his tone sharp and clipped, already bracing himself for another confrontation.

a pause hung on the other end, the silence making his grip on the phone tighten. when sarah finally spoke, her voice was quieter than usual. “we need to talk.”

rafe rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “thought we already said everything there was to say,” he muttered impatiently.

“not about me and you,” sarah replied, her tone softer but still steady. “it’s about y/n.”

his heart stuttered, his posture stiffening as her words registered. “what about her?” he demanded, the edge in his voice sharper now, his protective instincts flaring. from the corner of his eye, he saw you chewing your bottom lip, clearly aware they were talking about you.

sarah cleared her throat, her voice carefully controlled. “how is she doing?”

rafe exhaled, turning his head to glance at you. “she’s getting there,” he admitted quietly, his tone softening slightly. the weight of his words lingered in the air, the silence on the other end of the line growing heavy.

“good,” sarah finally said, her voice hesitant. then, she continued, firmer this time. “listen, the pogues and i are trying to figure out who sent the video. we’ve been going over suspects all night and—”

“don’t bother,” rafe cut in sharply, his words curt and dismissive. “i have rob working on it already.”

there was a pause on the other end, the silence practically dripping with disapproval. “rafe,” sarah finally said, her tone measured, “this isn’t something you can just bulldoze through like one of your deals. rob might be good, but this? this is personal.”

“and what, you think you and your little crew can handle it better?” rafe snapped, his voice rising. “this isn’t some pogue treasure hunt, sarah. this is serious shit. she’s being stalked, and i’m not about to leave this in anyone else’s hands.”

sarah’s sharp sigh cut through the line, her frustration evident. “it’s not about doing it better, rafe. it’s about doing it together. you think you’re the only one who cares about her? we all do. but if you keep shutting everyone out, you’re just going to make this worse—for her and for you.”

rafe didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as her words sank in. deep down, he knew she was right—he couldn’t do this alone. but admitting it felt impossible under the crushing weight of guilt and anger pressing on him.

“if you want to help her, you’ll work with us. accept the help,” sarah said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “if you can, meet us at the chateau—”

“no,” rafe interrupted quickly, his voice resolute. “i’m not leaving the house when there’s a whole-ass stalker around, sarah.”

sarah sighed on the other end, her frustration now mixed with understanding. “then let us come to you,” she offered. “you don’t have to do this alone, rafe. none of us want her to go through this alone either.”

rafe hesitated, his chest tightening at the thought of letting anyone else into the fragile space you both had built. but as much as he hated to admit it, he knew sarah was right. he couldn’t do this alone—not if it meant giving you the support you needed.

“fine,” rafe muttered, glancing at the time on his watch. “be here in an hour.” before sarah could respond, he ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone back onto the couch with a sigh.

you took careful steps over to him, standing between his legs as he leaned back on the couch, watching your every move. without hesitation, he reached out, his hands gently pulling you down onto his lap so you were straddling him. his arms wrapped securely around your waist as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

his hands moved to your hips, rubbing slow, soothing patterns that made you feel grounded despite the chaos surrounding you. “thank you for letting her in,” you mumbled softly against his skin, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled faintly, catching on immediately that you and sarah must have discussed this beforehand. “sneaky,” he murmured, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as his hand moved to cradle the back of your head.

you lifted your face just enough to glance at him, catching the slight curve of his lips. “it’s for the best,” you said gently, your fingers brushing lightly over his biceps.

“we’ll see,” he replied, the softness in his voice betraying his usual skepticism. even so, the way he held you closer said he trusted your judgment, even if it meant letting sarah—and the others—into your carefully guarded space.

after a moment of silence, you sighed and pushed gently against him, only for rafe to groan in protest, tightening his grip on your waist.

“rafe, i have to shower,” you whined, though there was no real frustration in your voice.

he smirked, muttering a soft, “okay,” before standing up with you still straddling him, his arms securely holding you in place. instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, giggling as he walked the two of you toward his bathroom.

you hid your laughter against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin as he stepped into the bathroom and set you down on the edge of the sink. his eyes softened as he began peeling your clothes off, taking his time, his movements slow and deliberate. there was something about these moments with rafe that made the rest of the world fade away, like time itself paused just for the two of you.

before long, you were both under the warm spray of the shower, the steam curling around you like a cocoon. rafe stood behind you, his chest pressed to your back as he ran a soapy loofah up your arms, his touch both gentle and grounding. you leaned your head back against his chest, letting your eyes flutter closed, savoring the quiet intimacy between you.

“this okay?” he murmured softly against your ear, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“more than okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. moments like this reminded you of the side of rafe that not everyone got to see—the side that made you feel safe, loved, and completely seen.

rafe let the warm water cascade over your body, rinsing away the lathered soap as you turned to face him. your eyes met his, and without hesitation, you reached up, finally pressing your lips to his in a slow, passionate kiss. it was soft, yet it carried all the emotions you hadn’t been able to express in the past few days.

he froze for a moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then his hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. it was as if the tension in his chest melted away, his heart pounding against his ribs as he poured everything he’d been holding back into the moment.

he practically lost feeling in his legs, the relief washing over him as much as the water did. it had been days since you’d let him kiss you, days of tiptoeing around your emotions and giving you the space you needed. not that it mattered to him how long it took—he would’ve waited forever if you needed him to.

but god, he’d missed this. the way your lips moved against his, the way your fingers tangled in his wet hair, the way your body pressed against his like it was made to fit perfectly there. it was killing him to restrain himself, to not touch you the way he wanted to.

he let out a soft groan, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face as he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his eyes fluttering closed as he let himself savor the moment.

“i’m here,” you whispered back, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you smiled softly.

he opened his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability shining in them before he kissed you again, slower this time, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you all over again. in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the chaos, not the fear—just you and him, together under the steady rhythm of the water.

the kiss deepened, growing messier and more desperate as rafe pressed you firmly against the cold tiles. the chill of the surface sent a jolt through your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips that only fueled his hunger.

his hand slid from your hair, trailing down your damp skin until it reached the heat between your thighs. the moment his fingers slipped between your folds, he groaned low and guttural, the sound vibrating against your lips as your jaw went slack.

“shit,” rafe muttered, his voice thick with need as his lips brushed against yours. his fingers teased your clit, circling just enough to drive you insane. “so fuckin’ wet, huh? just for me?”

you nodded frantically, your breath hitching as he circled your clit faster, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. “just for you,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders for support.

rafe’s cock twitched painfully against his stomach, the sight of you unraveling beneath him nearly pushing him over the edge. “fuck,” he growled, his hips pressing into your hip in a slow, desperate grind. “you’re driving me insane, baby. can’t even think straight.”

his fingers worked faster, slipping inside you as his thumb stayed focused on your swollen bud. the obscene wet sounds of his movements filled the small space, mixing with your breathy moans and his ragged curses. “you feel so good,” he muttered against your neck, his voice strained as he continued to rut against you, craving more.

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice shaky as your body began to tremble against the tiles. “please…”

he smirked against your skin, his teeth grazing your ear as he murmured, “please what? tell me what you need.” his fingers curled inside you, hitting the spot that made your vision blur, pulling another cry from your lips. “come on, use your words.”

“hmph—i need you to fuck me,” you whined, your voice trembling with desperation. the words barely left your lips before a sharp gasp escaped you, rafe’s fingers suddenly speeding up, plunging deeper as his thumb pressed harder against your clit.

“yeah?” he rasped, his voice thick with lust, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he watched the way your body writhed beneath his touch. “you want me to fuck you, baby? want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?”

you could only nod, your breath hitching as his fingers worked you relentlessly, your hips bucking against his hand. his cock twitched again, painfully hard and pressed against you, and he groaned low in his throat. “you’re so fuckin’ needy,” he muttered, biting down lightly on your neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. “look at you, begging for it.”

your hands gripped his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as your legs started to shake, the tension in your core building to unbearable heights. “please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his movements didn’t relent. “please, rafe.”

“oh, i’ll fuck you,” he growled, pulling his hand away abruptly, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss of contact. before you could even voice a protest, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly so your legs wrapped securely around his waist. he pressed you harder against the cold tiles, his lips brushing your ear as he continued, “but you gotta cum for me first.”

his fingers slid back inside you, curling perfectly to hit that spot that had you gasping, your back arching against the wall. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing quick, tight circles that made your legs tremble around his hips.

“show me how bad you want it,” he growled, his pace relentless, his voice rough and commanding. the intensity of his touch had you spiraling in no time, your body writhing against his as heat coiled low in your stomach.

you clung to his shoulders as you fell apart, crying out his name so loudly it echoed off the shower walls. “rafe!” you gasped, your body shaking as the waves of your release crashed over you, leaving you a trembling mess in his arms.

he didn’t stop, drawing out every second of your orgasm until you were practically sobbing from the pleasure. a smug grin spread across his face as he watched you, his chest heaving against yours. “that’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone laced with pride.

he slowly pulled his fingers from you, glistening with your release, and without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied groan. his eyes darkened as he savored the taste, his grin widening. “so sweet,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

he tightened his hold on you, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to create the space you needed. your shaky fingers trailed down between your bodies, wrapping around his swollen, throbbing cock. his breath hitched, and a low, guttural moan escaped his lips as you pumped him a few times, feeling the heat and weight of him against your palm.

“fuck,” rafe muttered, his head dropping to your shoulder as his fingers dug into your skin, the tension in his body palpable. “you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

you smirked faintly, your confidence bolstered by his reaction, before guiding him to your entrance. the blunt head of his cock brushed against your slick folds, and you both let out soft, shaky breaths as the anticipation built between you.

he pushed forward just enough for the thick, swollen tip of his cock to slip into your warmth, pulling a moan from both of you. the stretch was intoxicating, the way he filled you so slowly making your breath hitch.

“fuck,” rafe groaned, his voice rough and strained as he paused, savoring the way you clenched around him. his forehead pressed against yours, his hot breath mingling with yours as he struggled to hold himself back. “so tight. so perfect for me.”

your hips shifted instinctively, urging him deeper as a needy whimper escaped your lips. “rafe, please,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “i need you.”

his jaw tightened, and he smirked faintly, though his restraint was hanging by a thread. “yeah? you want all of me?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pressed a kiss to your parted lips, stealing your breath.

rafe groaned deeply as he pushed in further, the warmth of you pulling him in like a vice. every inch he gave you sent sparks shooting through your body, and the stretch had your head falling back against the cold tile, a desperate moan spilling from your lips.

“fuck,” he hissed, his jaw tightening as he bottomed out, your walls squeezing him so perfectly it nearly made him lose his mind. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. like you were made for me.”

you could barely respond, your breath hitching as he stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him. his hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you steady against the tiles as his lips found your neck, biting and sucking softly, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched.

“move,” you finally gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as the ache turned into pure, unfiltered need. “rafe, please.”

he pulled back just enough to tease you, his cock dragging along your walls in a way that made your toes curl before slamming back into you, forcing a loud cry from your lips.

“that’s it,” he growled, finding a rhythm that had the obscene sound of skin against skin echoing in the shower. his grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with a hunger that made your head spin. “let me hear you, pretty girl. let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

rafe’s pace grew relentless, his hips snapping against yours with precision, each thrust driving him deeper until he was brushing that perfect spot inside you over and over. your body arched against the tiles, your hands clawing at his back as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

“rafe,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pressure inside you built to an almost unbearable peak. the sound of his grunts and the wet slaps of your bodies filled the air, mingling with your desperate cries. “i can’t—oh my god, i—”

“yes, you can,” rafe growled, his voice dark and commanding as his thumb found your clit, rubbing firm, tight circles that sent you spiraling. “you’re gonna give me everything, princess. let it all go.”

you clenched tightly around him, your body trembling as the heat in your core exploded, and with a broken cry, the release hit you hard. the gush of liquid that followed was undeniable, coating rafe’s abdomen and making him groan loudly, his pace faltering for just a second.

“fuck, baby,” he hissed, his voice laced with awe and arousal as he felt you squirting around him, the sheer intensity of your release pushing him closer to the edge. “look at you, soaking me. so fuckin’ perfect.”

your legs trembled around his waist, your head falling back against the tiles as aftershocks coursed through you. but rafe didn’t stop. he kept his hips moving, chasing his own release as his hands gripped your ass tightly, holding you against him.

he groaned as he slammed into you one last time, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you. his grip on you tightened as he buried himself as deep as possible, his breath ragged against your neck.

your body went limp in his arms, both of you trembling from the intensity of what just happened.

he leaned his forehead against yours, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he caught his breath. “never getting over that,” he muttered, his voice filled with pride. “you’re fuckin’ unreal.”

your cheeks warmed instantly at the reminder of what had just happened, and you groaned softly, covering your face with both hands in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. “shut up,” you mumbled, your voice muffled behind your palms.

rafe laughed, a low, satisfied sound, before carefully helping you back onto your feet. your legs trembled slightly, but his steady hands on your hips kept you balanced. once you were stable, he reached up to gently pull your hands away from your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back just enough to look at you. “means i did something right.”

your eyes narrowed playfully, and you smacked his chest with a laugh. “rafe!”

he chuckled, rubbing the spot where your hand landed as if it actually hurt. “what? just sayin’.” his smirk widened, and the way he was looking at you—with that cocky, yet adoring gleam in his eyes—had your heart fluttering despite yourself.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

you and rafe were still giggling over some inside joke as you made your way into the living room, his arm lazily draped around your waist, his hand resting instinctively on your hip. but the laughter died on your lips the moment you noticed your friends sitting on the couches, their expressions ranging from awkward to downright tense.

rafe’s brows furrowed immediately, his grip on your hip tightening slightly as his eyes flicked between them. “how the fuck did you guys get in?” he asked sharply, his tone clipped.

sarah cleared her throat, clearly the one to break the silence as she held up a familiar house key. her lips were pressed into a tight line,

her eyes avoiding yours. “i still have my key,” she said quietly, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you glanced between sarah and the rest of the pogues. their silence spoke volumes, and rafe’s jaw tightened beside you, his protectiveness radiating off him in waves. he stared them down, clearly less than thrilled about the uninvited intrusion.

“is there a reason you’re all just… sitting here?” rafe asked, his tone touched with impatience as his gaze lingered pointedly on sarah.

pope shifted awkwardly in his seat, his tone measured as he explained, “we knocked at first, but since no one answered, we thought something was wrong.”

before you could respond, jj piped up with his signature sarcasm. “jesus, bro, we thought you were killing her in there.”

your gasp was immediate, your cheeks heating with mortification as you stammered, “jj!” you quickly brought your hands to your face, covering it in embarrassment.

rafe, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. his lips curled into a smug smirk, his hand tightening on your hip in a way that made your stomach flip. “if i was,” he drawled cockily, “she was screaming for the right reasons.”

“rafe!” you hissed, swatting his chest in mortified protest. his chuckle only deepened, clearly unbothered by the tension in the room. jj snorted, shaking his head in amusement, while sarah groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to physically block out the mental image.

“can we not?” sarah muttered, her voice low and dripping with exasperation. “i’m already traumatized enough as it is.”

rafe shot her an amused grin, his hand still possessively resting on your hip. “you’re traumatized? imagine how i feel, dealing with all of you breaking into my house.”

jj leaned back on the couch, throwing an arm over the backrest with an exaggerated shrug. “oh, come on, man. we knocked. you didn’t answer, and honestly, from all that ruckus i don’t blame—” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before you cut in.

your cheeks burned hotter, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “oh my god, can we talk about literally anything else?”

“agreed,” sarah interjected quickly, shooting jj a death glare before turning her sharp gaze to rafe. “we didn’t come here for… this. we came because we have a problem to deal with. remember?” her tone turned serious, and the atmosphere in the room shifted.

rafe’s smirk faded instantly, his expression hardening as he stood a little straighter. “what problem?” he asked, his grip on your hip tightening protectively, his eyes narrowing as they locked on his sister.

“we might have a lead,” kie said, her voice cautious as her eyes flickered between you and rafe. “and it’s got more people involved than we think, i’m sure.”

rafe groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair before sinking onto the couch, pulling you down to sit beside him. his hand rested protectively on your thigh as if grounding himself. sarah’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the subtle action, but she chose not to comment. instead, she simply observed, noting how much rafe’s demeanor had shifted in the past few weeks. he cared—more than she’d expected him to.

“so who’s the lead?” rafe snapped, his tone impatient as he looked around the room, waiting for someone to speak up.

after a moment of silence, john b finally answered, “we think it’s barry.”

the name was barely out of john b’s mouth when rafe’s entire demeanor changed. his eyes blazed with fury, his jaw tightening as his hand gripped your thigh. “i’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“rafe, wait,” sarah interjected quickly, holding up her hands as if to calm him. “we don’t know for sure yet.”

“i don’t need to know for sure,” rafe snapped back, his tone laced with venom. “if barry’s even remotely involved in this, he’s dead.” his leg bounced with barely contained energy, his rage practically vibrating off of him.

“look, we’re all pissed,” pope said, his voice firm but measured. “but if we go in guns blazing without proof, we’re just gonna make it worse.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he fought to rein in his temper. “he’s not getting away with this,” he muttered darkly, his gaze flicking to you briefly, softening for just a moment before hardening again. “not after what he’s done.”

“you said there were more people involved,” you finally spoke up, your voice soft but steady as your fingers absentmindedly traced soothing patterns on rafe’s knuckles. his hand had been clenched into a tight fist, but your touch seemed to ease some of the tension, his grip relaxing slightly under your gentle movements.

all eyes turned to kie, who nodded slowly. “we’re not sure how many, but it’s definitely not just barry,” she explained. “the way the video spread so fast, the timing—it’s organized. someone else is pulling strings here.”

rafe let out a low growl, his jaw tightening again. “so who the fuck else is it?” he demanded, his voice sharp and filled with impatience.

“we don’t know yet,” john b admitted, his tone cautious. “but if it’s barry, then it’s probably someone he’s working with. he doesn’t have the brains to pull something like this off on his own.”

“or the resources,” pope added, leaning forward with a frown. “he’s got connections, but not that kind of reach.”

you glanced at rafe, watching the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to rein in his anger. his knuckles had whitened from the tension in his fists, so you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grounding him. “do you think it’s a kook?” you asked softly, your gaze flicking between him and the rest of the group.

“one hundred percent,” jj cut in before rafe could answer, his tone dripping with disdain. “it always fuckin’ is.” he leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms as he shot a glare toward sarah, almost as if it were her fault by association.

sarah rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply. “not every kook is out to ruin your life, jj.”

“no, just the ones we keep having to deal with,” he shot back, his voice filled with sarcasm. “you can’t sit there and tell me it’s not a rich prick playing their stupid games.”

“jj, come on,” kie interjected, her tone firm but measured. “this isn’t the time for finger-pointing.”

“i’m not pointing fingers. i’m stating facts,” jj muttered, his eyes darting to rafe with a slight smirk, the tension palpable. “but hey, maybe lover boy over here can tell us which one of his old kook buddies likes playing stalker.”

rafe’s hand tightened in yours at the jab, his knuckles turning white. his eyes locked on jj, his tone sharp and dangerous as he shot back, “if i knew, then you wouldn’t be sitting on my couch.”

jj raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still playing on his lips. “easy. just saying, you might want to start with your crew. i’m sure barry’s not the only one who’d love to see you squirm.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his breathing steady but filled with tension. you squeezed his hand gently, your thumb brushing soothing circles over his skin, grounding him before he could escalate things further. “jj,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warning, “not helping.”

“what?” jj shrugged, leaning back casually. “i’m just being honest.”

“honest or not, we don’t need to start a fight,” kie interjected, giving jj a pointed look. “we’re here to figure this out, not throw punches.”

“yet,” rafe muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear. you glanced up at him, catching the flicker of anger in his eyes. despite the tension radiating off him, the way he stayed seated and quiet told you he was trying—trying to keep himself in check, for you.

you sighed softly, your eyes flickering down to your lap as your thoughts raced. the room was still thick with tension, everyone quietly waiting for the next lead, the next idea. then, a name surfaced in your mind. the name that had haunted you since this all started. your throat tightened as you hesitated, but you knew you had to say it.

“what about stacy?” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

the room went silent, the weight of the name settling over everyone like a dark cloud. rafe’s grip on your hand tightened instinctively, his jaw clenching as his head turned sharply to look at you. “stacy?” he repeated, his voice low and cautious, though you could feel the storm brewing behind his words.

you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. “that day at the country club,” you murmured. “she probably saw us together at the beach. and after… everything with you and her dad… i don’t know, it just feels like she might have a reason.”

rafe sighed heavily, his jaw tightening as he shook his head. “baby, not this again. i told you—“

“i’m not saying it to start an argument,” you cut him off, your tone firmer now. “i’m saying it because i’ve always had a weird feeling about her, and it just seems too convenient. think about it, rafe. it’s obvious she wants you, and who knows how far she’s willing to go to get you.”

your words hung in the air, the room going still as everyone absorbed what you’d just said. rafe’s gaze softened slightly, his hand brushing over yours in an attempt to calm you. “i told you, stacy’s nothing to me,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “she’s not a threat.”

“but what if she is?” you countered, finally meeting his eyes. “we can’t just ignore this because you don’t think she’d go that far. we have to consider it, especially if she’s been watching us.”

rafe’s expression hardened as he processed your words, his jaw tightening. “okay,” he finally said, his voice low but resolute. “we’ll look into it.”

you nodded, encouraged by his response, and pressed on. “and especially since you said her dad’s company is your family’s biggest competitor,” you continued, your voice steady despite the emotions simmering beneath the surface. “putting out a video like that? it would ruin everything—for you, for me, for the cameron name. it makes sense.”

sarah leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in thought. “she’s got the motive,” she said, her tone thoughtful but sharp. “if she’s working with barry or someone else, she’d have the connections to pull this off. and she’s petty enough to do it.”

kie nodded in agreement, crossing her arms. “it’s not just about you two, either. if her dad’s in on this, he’d see this as a way to take a shot at the whole cameron empire. barry could be the perfect tool for that.”

you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair, trying to steady your spiraling thoughts. deep down, you knew stacy was behind this. your instincts screamed it, pointing at her with flashing lights and blaring alarms. every interaction you’d ever had with her, every sidelong glance and calculated move, seemed to line up perfectly with what was happening now. but you couldn’t let your emotions or personal bias cloud your judgment—not when so much was at stake.

no matter how much you despised her, you needed proof. assumptions wouldn’t get you anywhere, and acting on feelings alone could backfire. you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a deep breath, your fingers still tangled in your hair as you glanced around the room.

“we can’t jump to conclusions,” you said finally, your voice quieter but firm. “even if it feels obvious, we need evidence. if we accuse the wrong person, it could make everything worse.”

rafe’s eyes flicked to yours, his gaze softening slightly at your visible stress. “then we get the evidence,” he said simply, his voice steady.

“we’ll figure it out,” sarah reassured, giving you a small nod. “if it’s stacy, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away with this.”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to push your emotions aside. you had to stay focused. if stacy was behind this, she wouldn’t just regret it—you’d make sure of it.

it was her. it had to be.

hours passed, and the pogues eventually went home. to your surprise, none of them brought up you and rafe, even during the moments he retreated elsewhere briefly. they acted perfectly normal about it, which somehow unsettled you more than if they’d confronted you outright. the silence felt heavier than words.

rafe had left you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket tucked beneath your chin. now, he sat in his office, his jaw tight as he scrolled through emails from rob—each one filled with dead ends and pointless leads. his stress was evident, his hand dragging down his face in frustration while his leg bounced uncontrollably beneath the desk.

his eyes flicked to the painting on the wall, knowing exactly what was behind it: the safe that held passports, emergency cash, and, most importantly, his gun. john b’s words replayed in his mind like a broken record: we think it’s barry.

without hesitation, rafe stood abruptly, striding over to the painting and pulling it aside. he opened the safe, the cold steel of the gun feeling heavy and familiar in his grip. his mind was set.

walking out to the living room, he paused when his eyes landed on you. you were sound asleep on the couch, your blanket pulled up to your chin, lips parted as soft, even breaths escaped them. the sight of you like this—so peaceful, so unaware of the storm brewing in his chest—made him falter for a moment.

but then, his jaw tightened, and his grip on the gun firmed. he leaned against the doorway, watching you for another moment before turning away, his mind already spiraling with what he needed to do next.

you groaned softly, the buzzing of your phone vibrating underneath your pillow pulling you from your sleep. your eyes squinted as you grabbed it, reading the contact on the screen. it didn’t have a name, just a random number, but below it read maybe: kildare police department.

your heart hammered in your chest as you hesitated before pressing the green button and holding the phone to your ear. “hello?” you asked, your voice groggy and uneasy.

“hey, baby,” a familiar voice greeted, and your stomach dropped.

“rafe?” you stammered, your heart racing as panic crept in. “what’s—”

before you could finish, your phone buzzed again, vibrating against your ear. you pulled it away and gasped softly, your breath catching in your throat as the notification popped up.

unknown: your boyfriend shouldn’t have done that. now you’re all alone.

unknown: one image attachment.

with trembling fingers, you opened the photo, only to feel your entire body freeze. it was a picture of you, taken in the exact spot you were sitting right now. it captured the moment you had picked up your phone, your expression clear and startled.

your blood ran cold as you instinctively glanced around the room, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. someone was watching you. someone was here.

“i’m sorry to do this to you, but can you come pick—” rafe began, his voice heavy with frustration as he sighed into the phone. sheriff shoup stood nearby, giving him a disapproving look, clearly unimpressed with his request.

before rafe could finish, your voice came through the line, frantic and low, cutting him off mid-sentence. “rafe! someone’s here. they sent me a picture of me at the house—”

the line suddenly went dead.

rafe froze, the color draining from his face as the silence on the other end of the call sank in. his grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as panic surged through him. “no, no, no,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

he didn’t even bother explaining to shoup before bolting out the door, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. whoever had sent you that picture wasn’t just threatening anymore—they were acting.

and you were alone.

© aerialmirrorss

taglist!: @whatrulookingat11 @ipromiseidk @rrosiitas @percysley @pinklleemonade @tincanhat @chenslucy @furiouscopshepherduniversity @vanessa-rafesgirl @amel1ee @lxvrgirl @munsoncultedits @honeyluvsatj @esquivelbianca @k3nz13a @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @fallingwallsh @landososcar @bambiangels @witchmoon10 @harrys-housewife @littlelamy @fruitcakerafe @stylesbarnesmaybankstarkeymunson @ariana2saucyy @valsmotive @folksmione @prettybabyyyy @wolfstarsimpxx @devinefem @mastylespost @drewwhore @promiscuousg1rl @uhhsoph @aesthetic-lyss @lossfairy @belledawnidk @psychiceaglepeach @yourcrackleflame @ayy1234567

[biboomerangboi]

Hua Cheng essentially cockblocking himself for possibly all of eternity will literally never not be the funniest thing MXTX ever wrote.

Xie Lian was pretty much completely in love with him the second he saw those lanterns (and completely oblivious about it) and then we get the wonderful first kiss underwater moment and Xie Lian is basically drawing hearts around Hua Cheng every time he sees him. While like quietly dying cause he literally has no idea what to do with it. Like at this point he doesn’t even really understand that he is head over heels totally gone for this man.

Until Hua Cheng is like I have a beloved I just haven’t won them over yet. Which he thinks is perfectly reasonable because his self esteem is the worst and he doesn’t understand how he could have won Xie Lian over yet. (He’s only on step 22 of his Marrying Dianxia 3000 step Master Plan ((that he debates throwing out on a regular basis because he doesn’t deserve to even dream about wanting Xie Lian)). So course he’s like yeah I have this wonderful noble beautiful beloved I just haven’t won them over yet wink wink nudge nudge.

But Xie Lian is like oh of course obviously I don’t deserve nice things and fuck I actually wanted him so badly I’m actually in love with him and now I will resign myself to never being happy for his sake. (Their combined self esteem is truly a so low it’s a hole in the ground which is hilarious because they think the other person is to good for them and unattainable forever because they literally have the same neurosis.) So he starts boxing up his feelings forever constantly wanting Hua Cheng and feeling guilty about it and literally dying inside because he wants Hua Cheng like he’s never wanted anyone.

Like essentially books 3 and 5 only happen because Hua Cheng has now cursed them both by saying he has a beloved because Xie Lian believes he isn’t wanted and therefore any nice thing Hua Cheng does is just him being nice and not Hua Cheng pulling out steps 23-34 of his plan thinking he still hasn’t won Xie Lian over. (He has he so has but he shot himself in the foot so badly it’s painful to read).

Like thank the Gods Hua Cheng is so unhinged and created the cave of 10000 Gods cause Xie Lian would literally be at his own wedding to Hua Cheng still convinced he wanted someone else and this was in fact a thing they were doing to solve a case together otherwise.

Like he needed something that unhinged to put 2 and 2 together otherwise he never would have caught on he’s Hua Cheng’s beloved. Meanwhile Hua cheng is like 🥺 he’s going to think I’m a weirdo now and I’m only on step 50 of the plan 🥺 like the two of them wouldn’t have been fucking nasty 2 books ago if he just kept his mouth shut and didn’t cockblock himself so violently.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[indecisivemuch]

Scandalous

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: The reveal of a scandalous detail about yours and Luke's relationship left you both flustered and everybody else gaping. Inspired by one line from So It Goes - Taylor Swift (fluff, established relationship).

Warning: allusions to sex, but no explicit details.

Word count: 2k

You and Luke have been going out for well over a year now. Yet, he never failed to make you feel like it would be an eternal honeymoon phase: whispers of sweet words about a lifetime’s worth of promises, delicate and sacred touches, looks filling in for unspoken words.

Loving Luke was as easy as having a daily routine - so natural and almost like a grounding thing from the life of a Demigod.

Currently, Luke was training with Percy. You were not too far away either, sparring with Clarisse. Despite the area being occupied by many other Demigods engaging in similar activities, Luke could not help but frequently glance over at you.

Luke has always been mesmerized by the way you combat, which he metaphorically compared to a ballerina. So precise, yet deadly. Every move was with intention and purpose. 

The way sweat glided down the side of your face, your cheeks flushed from fighting, eyes darting with strategy, heavy pants in between dodging and attacking your opponent, the smirk hinted on your face - all of it made Luke’s mind grow flustered. Somehow, he found everything you do attractive.

If he was honest, his mind seemed to be doing nothing lately but think of you, especially when you’re not beside him. The memories he has harvested over your time together only transformed his brain into a cinema, which constantly played montages of you. Every morning, he’d wake up from a dream about you to the sight of you in his arms - that is before he had to sneak out of your cabin back to his. You constantly occupy every cell in his mind, like an uncontainable virus spreading. Yet, for some reason, he was not scared. He welcomed this feeling with his whole arms wide open.

You broke eye contact with Clarisse to look at Luke. Almost instantly, your eyes melted into ones filled with adoration and his own eyes mirrored the same emotions - if not tenfold. 

You were absolutely enamored with how Luke looked at you. Even before dating each other, people have mentioned the eyes he was giving you. But being oblivious, you did not see what they were talking about. However, it all became clear when you started dating. You started noticing how he would look at you like you were a rare artwork he would most likely never see again or a shooting star - a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence kind of thing that left him in awe all the time. He would do it so endearingly as if it would help to absorb every detail of you and imprint them into his memory. His looks have always made you feel loved - like you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if he has not told you this verbally and through actions already. Usually, you’d feel slightly insecure if somebody was staring so intensely at you, but he did it in a way that made you feel like your flaws were created to be loved for. 

However, a gasp escaped your lips as Luke was showered by a wave of the ocean. Everybody else also drew their attention to the head of Hermes’ cabin and the newly claimed Poseidon kid.

When Luke looked back at Percy, he was faced with a sheepish grin.

“I had to get your attention somehow. I tried calling your name like ten times already,” Percy shrugged his shoulder with feigned innocence, but the glint of mischief told Luke that the kid was anything but feeling guilty about soaking him from head to toe. 

“Percy,” Luke groaned as he could feel the fabric of his clothes cling to his body. Percy bashfully chuckled and offered another sheepish look to the counselor who was meant to train him. 

The cool water did offer a temporary fix to the boiling summer heat. But mixing that with sweat, combat, and Luke's long-sleeved shirt underneath was disastrous. The Hermes boy sighed as he slowly took off the bright orange camp shirt. After struggling slightly, he managed to pull the shirt off from over his head. However, the gray shirt he was wearing underneath got pulled up more than slightly from the extra friction between wet fabrics, revealing the majority of his back to Percy and others. 

He did not think much of it until gasps - including yours - could be heard as this happened. Chris even whistled as he and everybody else spotted what Luke did not notice.

“What?” Luke asked as he pulled down his gray shirt and started wringing his camp t-shirt, trying to rid it from being as wet as possible. 

“Damn, did you get mauled by a minotaur or something?” Percy asked. 

Almost immediately, Luke paled at Percy’s words as he realized what the kid was talking about.

Indeed, as Luke’s gray shirt underneath got pulled up, which revealed the majority of his back, this had also put on display the scratches down his back left from nights that he spent with you. Some were evidently old and healing, as seen by how Luke’s skin was patching itself up and matching closer to his skin tone. Others were somewhat freshly red, while a few were like wounds being reopened. To make matters worse, they could spot the occasional crescent shape bruises that were indentations of your nails. 

Considering your guys’ relationship was not a secret, there was no room to deny it if somebody pointed fingers at you. You blushed as people now averted their eyes to you as if this was the most scandalous thing all year. Clarisse and Chris, on the other hand, were both smirking. 

The whole camp knew you were the one who left those scratches there, and you sincerely wish you could dig a hole to hide yourself from all the attention right now.

Luke’s eyes darted to you, and you offered him an awkward smile as your face grew a darker shade of red.

“No, seriously, dude, you gotta get it checked out at the infirmary. How did that even happen?” Percy only continued, somehow actually clueless about the cause of those marks. You could see Annabeth sending Percy a somewhat side-eye from nearby at his words while Grover let out a deep sigh. 

You started approaching the two, hoping you could intervene and save the both of you from this situation.

“Uhm…well,” Luke started, unsure how to even answer the kid or divert the attention elsewhere as his cheeks flushed and ears tinted pink from trying to ignore memories of what you two had done the night before.

The Hermes boy has jokingly sweet-talked you before on how he might walk out shirtless after one of your rendezvous to show off the marks you left on him. Never would you two think that that idea would ever happen like this.

“Yeah, I reckon you should get that checked out,” you decided to say as you reached Luke, settling your hand on Luke’s lower back and greeting Percy. “Thank you for worrying about him.”

“Yeah, no problem. I mean, it must have been quite a minotaur to land that much of a number on him,” Percy somehow carried on and was utterly oblivious to Clarisse and Chris, who almost bursted out laughing at his latest comment. You, on the other hand, squinted your eyes at the kid. You turned to Luke and you could see it in his eyes that the boy was on the verge of laughing as well. You were sure he would have done so if it were not for your glare.

“Well, we best go heal those wounds now, right Luke?” you gave your boyfriend a look, hoping he would get the message to play along.

“Right,” he agreed almost instantly. 

“Alright, bye, Percy,” you hastily spoke, before dragging Luke by his hand away from everybody's eyes.

“Bye guys,” you could hear the kid’s voice as the both of you retreated. It felt like a walk of shame as the semi-crowd parted ways for you two to leave the scene. You immediately let out a deep breath as soon as nobody was near anymore.

“Gods, that was so embarrassing. The kid basically repeatedly called me a minotaur.”

“I mean…you can be my minotaur?” Luke cheekily jested, trying to tease you a bit more over the situation.

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re not making that a thing. No, absolutely not are you ever gonna make that a nickname,” Luke only laughed at your reaction before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into a hug. As he did so, you wrapped both your arms around his waist, face colliding with his chest the way it would usually do when you guys cuddle. He gave you a few peppered kisses on your forehead, close to your hairline. 

“They’re never gonna let us live that down, will they?” You asked after letting out a muffled groan against his chest.

“Nope,” Luke admitted. Despite the Hermes boy usually easing away your worries, even he knew this would be the talk around camp for a while. Nevertheless, he unwrapped his arms around you and cupped your face with both hands. Using his callus-filled hands, yet gentle touch, he soothed your furrowed eyebrows by rubbing over them to urge you from scowling.

“But…you know what? I’m kind of glad this happened. Sure, it might be awkward and a tad bit embarrassing. But now, they finally get to see how lucky I am to have been given a chance by such a gorgeous and sweet Demigod. And…” he paused, giving you a quick kiss. “This way, any guy potentially still after you know to keep their hands off.” He cheekily winked at you after saying so. 

Gods, you remember how jealous Luke would get before you were together. It was lowkey hot to see him so riled up. Though, after the both of you got together, you have always reassured him that you had eyes on him and only him. 

“I guess that also means any girls still thinking they could steal you from me would know they have no chance?” you questioned, smiling ear to ear when he nodded eagerly at your words.

“Exactly. That’s a win-win in my book. I’m not embarrassed they saw what you left on me. They could talk for all I care. So stop worrying, or else you’ll start getting wrinkles,” he lightly flicked the area between your furrowed eyebrows. As you were about to complain, he quickly kissed you right where he previously flicked you, and that immediately melted away any bit of feigned irritation you had with him. He chuckled at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows untangling itself.

“Thank you,” you muttered, showing your gratitude towards Luke. 

If Luke had a superpower, it would probably be calming you down. He has always managed to tame your emotions whenever they were drowning you. He was like an anchor to you, always grounded you during chaotic times. Sometimes, you wonder how you got so lucky. 

You peered up at him sweetly, and the look alone made him lean down to capture your lips with his again. You chuckled at his action and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was leaving on your lips. Your hands started playing with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He let out a content sigh while still showing your lips just how much he loved them and you. However, he abruptly pulled away before dropping a question. 

“Are we really going to the infirmary?” Luke hesitantly asked, bringing up your words from earlier. He watched as you gave him an amused look.

“What did you think?” As soon as his eyes met yours, he knew exactly what you wanted. He gave you a sheepish grin before the two of you quietly giggled to each other before walking further away from the training grounds.

Let's just say you two did not follow through with your words of going to the infirmary, and neither were you tending to his “wounds”.

——————————

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan tag list

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved