#things can't go back to how they were but still! There is love now there is genuine care between spark and fark | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

motorsportbarbie13 · 11 hours ago

Text

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us

In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.

Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts

TheYappingHour posted:

349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.

There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team.

“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for.

You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it.

“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle.

“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider.

“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building.

Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop.

Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors.

“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself.

“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand.

Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.”

“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time.

“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty.

“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot.

“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.

You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.”

“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.”

He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?”

He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer.

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career.

“And yet you still came.” You tease.

“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him.

“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.”

You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with.

Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you.

“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?”

Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview.

“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’”

“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right.

Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you.

“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”

“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.”

“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?”

“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR.

Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.”

You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.”

“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head.

“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”

The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you.

“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?"

You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.”

“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.

The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you.

You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up.

“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.”

Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.”

You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end.

“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone.

You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!”

“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.”

You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…”

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.

“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion.

“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture.

Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…”

You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.”

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly.

“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice.

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.”

“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.”

TheYappingHour posted

987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.

yourpersonalinsta posted

234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed

tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)

@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff

535 notes · View notes

entirelysein-e · 18 hours ago

Text

『 Faking it 』

☼ synopsis: you fake an orgasm and they notice so they punish you

☼ characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro

☼ wc: 1.0k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, creampie, thigh riding, hair pulling, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), pet names, mean!Toji

☼ notes: once again I am daring you to comment and / or reblog to let me know your thoughts 🫶

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:

✧ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment, despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was doing

✧ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter

✧ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act

✧ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you, but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back

✧ You pout at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head

✧ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he knew

✧ Before you were able to explain yourself to him he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it,”

✧ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now

✧ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer

✧ “Go ahead, love, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips

✧ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted

✧ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:

✧ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it

✧ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice

✧ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked

✧ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face

✧ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm

✧ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release

✧ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas where you needed him so desperately

✧ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but so turned on

✧ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now

✧ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

✧ RIP to your little kitty

✧ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after

✧ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts - so you do it anyways

✧ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandled you into a mating press

✧ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson,” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper

✧ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it

✧ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots which made you lose your mind

✧ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as his degrading words fell from his lips

✧ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful

✧ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't get the satisfaction of being filled by him

✧ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return

✧ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

344 notes · View notes

ssentimentals · 2 days ago

Note

Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen reaction #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu fluff #seventeen prompt #i am afraid i cannot write angst ldfnlfnlafnla

190 notes · View notes

rafesapologist · 3 days ago

Text

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part seventeen

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

author's note: this series has been a long time coming and i am so happy it has taken off the way it has. i appreciate all the love and support you all have given this story, but we have reached the end. i do not want to overkill this story or beat a dead horse, because the longer it goes on it leaves room for more to happen than i planned for. i plan on pursuing other stories from here but this one will always have my heart because it was my first ever on tumblr. <3

Sofia’s admission hit Rafe like ice water on a fevered brow, jolting him out of his haze with a suddenness that nearly knocked the air from his lungs. The dim, pulsing lights of the club blurred as he shoved through the writhing crowd, his mind teetering on the edge of panic. Every step felt like wading through quicksand, the noise of laughing strangers and the thrum of bass only deepening his disorientation. His chest tightened, his breaths coming short and rapid as the realization of your danger tunneled his vision, choking his throat with an unfamiliar dread.

By the time Rafe burst through the doors and into the humid night air, he was gasping. His hands gripped his knees, his body doubled over as he fought for control, the sharp sting of fear pumping through his veins like a poison. The streetlights cast jagged shadows across the cracked pavement beneath him, their orange glow flickering with every unsteady breath he drew. His heart hammered against his ribs as if it were trying to tear free, every pulse of it screaming a warning that reverberated through his entire being.

His thoughts came in fragmented bursts, spiraling—she’s in danger—a relentless echo. He pictured you, vulnerable, caught in some trap his father had set. His mind spun with worst-case scenarios, each more terrifying than the last, while the terror of losing you drove him to the brink of collapse. A wave of nausea hit him, but he forced it back, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the panic threatening to unravel him.

He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not like this.

Standing upright, Rafe ran a shaky hand through his disheveled hair, the night air doing nothing to cool the heat surging beneath his skin. The world outside the club seemed to spin in slow motion, people passing by oblivious to the storm raging within him. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus, adrenaline igniting something feral and primal in his chest. He knew only one thing: he had to find you, and there wasn’t a second to waste.

Rafe’s eyes darted wildly around the street as he paced, his mind racing with chaotic thoughts that he struggled to piece together. His fingers raked through his dirty blond hair, pulling at the strands in frustration, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribcage. Every muscle in his body was tight with anxiety, and he could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples. He had to calm down—he knew that. But the fear gnawed at him, relentless, pulling him deeper into a spiral.

Get it together. Focus. He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the rush of his own breathing. The thought of you being in danger sent another wave of panic through him, but he forced himself to push it down. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. He couldn’t afford to. Not with you on the line.

The idea of getting in his truck crossed his mind, but the very notion of driving in the state he was in felt like a death sentence. His body still buzzed with the remnants of coke and alcohol, the drugs pulsing through his bloodstream, clouding his judgment. If he got behind the wheel now, it would be reckless, maybe even fatal. And then there was Topper—no help at all, slumped somewhere back in the club, likely even more wasted than Rafe was. No, he was on his own. Or at least he thought he was.

Then it hit him like a bolt of clarity: Barry.

He grimaced at the thought, but desperation left him with no other choice. Barry was the last person he wanted to rely on, the kind of person you only called when things were far past the point of no return. But that’s exactly where he was now—past the point of no return. If anyone had the connections, the means to track down his father or whatever shady plot Ward had concocted, it would be Barry.

Rafe’s phone trembled in his hand as he pulled it out of his pocket, the screen blurry as he scrolled through his contacts. His fingers hesitated above Barry’s name, but he took a breath and tapped the call button. The dial tone seemed to stretch on forever, each ring tightening the knot of anxiety in his stomach.

Finally, a gravelly voice answered on the other end. “Rafe? The hell you callin’ me for at this hour?”

Rafe swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke. “I need your help, Barry. It’s… it’s about my dad. And it’s about her.”

There was a pause on the line, a low chuckle from Barry that sent a chill down Rafe’s spine. “This better be worth my time, Cameron. You know how I work.”

“I know,” Rafe gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of the situation settle even heavier on his shoulders. “Just meet me at the docks. I’ll explain everything.”

With that, he hung up, his jaw clenched as he stuffed the phone back into his pocket. His hands were shaking again, but this time it wasn’t just from fear—it was anger. Anger at his father, anger at Sofia, anger at the world for putting you in this mess.

Rafe’s feet pounded against the pavement, the night air sharp against his flushed skin. His vision tunneled once again, the world around him reduced to nothing but a blur of shadows and streetlights. His breath came in ragged gasps, the sting of adrenaline burning in his lungs, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. His legs carried him forward with reckless speed, driven by the sheer force of desperation.

The dock wasn’t far, but it felt like miles as he sprinted down the road, heart hammering in his chest. Maybe it was the cocktail of substances still coursing through his veins, or maybe it was the raw fear gnawing at him, but he ran like his life depended on it.

No, not his life—yours.

Every thought, every heartbeat, was consumed by the image of you in danger, your face flashing before his eyes as he pushed himself harder. The world around him felt surreal, distorted, like a fever dream where time slowed and sped up at random. The night sky seemed to tilt above him, the ground swaying beneath his feet, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t.

The familiar smell of saltwater hit his nose as he neared the dock, the wooden structure looming ahead, dimly lit by a few flickering lamps. His steps faltered for just a second as he spotted a figure leaning against one of the posts, the outline unmistakable even from a distance. Barry.

Rafe forced himself to slow down, his heart still racing as he approached. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a vice, but there was no turning back now. He needed answers. He needed you safe.

Barry lifted his head as Rafe came into view, his smirk visible even in the low light. “You look like shit, Cameron.”

Rafe's words came out in a frantic rush, barely coherent as his panic clawed its way to the surface. His breath was uneven, and his eyes, wild with desperation, darted toward Barry with an intensity that made it clear how urgent this was. “We have to find Y/N. I need you to help me find her, please, I—”

Barry narrowed his eyes, exhaling another lazy stream of smoke, clearly enjoying watching Rafe unravel. "Whoa, slow down," he said, his voice thick with amusement, like he was savoring Rafe's desperation. "You're all worked up for what? A girl? I thought you'd grown a spine by now."

Rafe took a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his voice strained as he tried to steady himself. “This isn’t a joke, Barry. My dad’s involved. Sofia’s involved. They’re coming after her, and I can’t—” his voice broke for a moment, "I can’t let them hurt her."

Barry tilted his head, flicking the cigarette butt onto the ground and grinding it under his heel. “Ward’s always got his hands in some deep shit, doesn’t he?” His smirk widened, but his eyes sharpened with interest. “So, you’re saying there’s trouble. Sounds like a dangerous game, Rafe. How do I know your daddy won't turn around and fuck me over next?"

Rafe’s jaw tightened as Barry’s smirk deepened, the question lingering like a taunt. He knew Barry wasn’t the type to jump into anything without weighing the risks—especially when it involved the Camerons. Taking a shaky breath, Rafe tried to steady himself, to present some semblance of control. "Because I’ll make sure it doesn’t. This is on me, not you. I just need your help."

Barry let out a low chuckle, amused by Rafe's desperation. "Oh, so now you're the hero? What makes you think you can keep me out of the crossfire when your whole family’s knee-deep in it?"

Rafe ran a trembling hand through his dirty blond hair, feeling the weight of the substances in his system pulling him down. "You won't be on the radar. My dad won’t even know you're involved. This is between me and him. Sofia’s already in, so you’ve got leverage."

Barry’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as he considered the offer. His fingers drummed against his side, eyes studying Rafe. “Leverage, huh? Sounds like you’re neck-deep in something nasty. And if it backfires...”

“It won’t,” Rafe interrupted, his voice sharp and pleading all at once. "I’ll make sure it doesn’t."

Barry stared him down for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally, he flicked a glance at Rafe, sizing him up. “Alright,” he said, his voice slow, calculating. “But if this does turn sideways, I’ll bury you before Ward even gets a chance. You hear me?”

Rafe nodded quickly, the words slicing through his panic. "Yeah, I hear you. Just help me find her."

"Well alright," Barry sighed almost in defeat, his shoulders slumping as he turned his heel, motioning Rafe to follow, "let's get goin'."

Rafe let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his pulse still racing but with a flicker of hope now threaded through the fear. He quickly followed Barry to the beat-up truck, the gravel crunching under their feet. The night air felt heavy, thick with the tension of what they were about to do.

Barry opened the driver’s side door, glancing back at Rafe with a half-smirk. “Get in. And try not to puke in my truck, yeah?”

Rafe ignored the jab, climbing into the passenger seat as Barry started the engine. The old truck roared to life, and they took off down the road, the headlights slicing through the dark.

As they sped away from the dock, the inside of the truck was filled with the low hum of the engine and the rattling of loose parts. Rafe stared out the window, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, the knot in his stomach tightening with every mile. He couldn’t stop imagining what his father might do, or what Sofia’s resentment might lead to.

Barry, sensing Rafe’s silence, glanced over, his eyes flicking between the road and his passenger. “So, what exactly does your daddy have planned this time?” he asked, voice casual, but there was a sharpness behind it.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching as he replayed the chaotic events of the past few days. Ward’s betrayal, Sofia’s confession, the looming threat that seemed to press down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

“I don’t know all the details,” Rafe finally muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “But it’s bad. Real bad.”

Barry raised an eyebrow, his hands steady on the wheel as they sped down the dimly lit road. “Define ‘bad,’ Rafe. You’re talkin’ like your old man’s about to blow up the island or somethin’.”

Rafe shook his head, running his hand through his disheveled hair. “He put a hit out on her. On y/n.” His voice cracked slightly, as if saying it out loud made the threat even more real. “He thinks she’s tied up with John B and the Pogues, thinks she’s some kind of liability. But she’s not, Barry. She’s innocent.”

Barry let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. “Ward Cameron never could tell the difference between business and personal, could he?”

The truck hit a bump in the road, but neither of them flinched. The silence stretched, the gravity of the situation settling between them like a storm cloud.

“So, you’re up against Ward now,” Barry said, glancing sideways at Rafe again. “Man, you’ve got balls. Most people would’ve run for the hills by now.”

“I’m not running,” Rafe snapped, his anger flaring up again. “I’m not letting him ruin her life like he’s ruined mine.”

Barry grinned, the corners of his mouth tugging up in that familiar, crooked way. “Alright, man. I’m in. But just know, whatever comes next—it’s gonna get ugly.”

Barry's truck roared down the deserted streets, the engine's growl a constant, urgent reminder of the time slipping away. Rafe sat in the passenger seat, his fingers gripping the edge of his seat, knuckles white and strained. The road stretched out before them like an unending ribbon of asphalt, the dim streetlights casting long, flickering shadows that seemed to dance with his growing panic.

Every minute felt like an eternity as they drove through familiar yet alien landscapes. They passed by the docks, the bars, and the places you’d once frequented. Rafe's eyes darted around, desperately scanning for any sign of you, but the night remained stubbornly indifferent. The neon signs of local bars blurred into a chaotic smear of color, each one a reminder of how many places he had searched and how many hours had slipped by.

“Damn it!” Rafe yelled, his voice cracking with frustration. He punched the dashboard with a force that made the truck’s interior shudder but didn’t quite break anything. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to keep himself calm, but the fear that something terrible might happen to you was relentless.

Barry's eyes flickered over to Rafe, a mix of concern and impatience etched on his face. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, the knuckles on his hands turning a stark white. “Look, we’ve been driving around for half an hour, hitting all your usual spots. There’s no sign of her,” Barry said, his voice steady but edged with frustration. He glanced at Rafe, who was staring out the window with a look of desolation.

Barry’s gaze shifted back to the road, then to Rafe. “Alright, look, why don’t we just show up at John B’s and ask ‘em where she’s at? I mean, it won’t hurt to check. We might find something there.”

Defeat etched over Rafe's features as he slumped down into the passenger's seat, momentarily peering over at Barry as if he was contemplating his suggestion. Everywhere else seemed to be a bust, therefor it was the only option left for him to go. "Alright," he sighed, throwing his hands up, "let's go."

Barry's eyes softened with a hint of empathy as he observed Rafe's expression. The stark contrast between Rafe's usually confident demeanor and the current look of defeat was jarring. Without a word, Barry turned the truck around, the vehicle's headlights slicing through the night, leading them back toward familiar terrain.

The road felt endless under the truck’s tires, each mile stretching out with agonizing slowness. The lights of bars and shops, once vibrant and promising, now seemed to mock Rafe’s anxiety with their indifferent glow. He sat in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the window, eyes following the blur of passing streetlights and shadows.

As they approached the chateau, Rafe’s mind raced. The enormity of the situation pressed down on him, the fear for your safety overwhelming every other thought. Barry parked the truck outside John B’s place, the vehicle’s engine rumbling to a stop. The street was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of a late-night radio.

Rafe glanced over at Barry, his face drawn and weary. “Thanks for doing this,” he said, his voice heavy with gratitude and exhaustion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before they approached the front door.

Barry nodded, giving Rafe a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping out of the truck. They walked up the path to the house, the porch light casting long shadows that danced with their footsteps. The door loomed ahead, a barrier to answers and perhaps, hope.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand and knocked. The sound of the knuckles hitting the wood was sharp and clear, breaking the silence of the night. The minutes felt like hours as they waited, the anticipation almost unbearable. Rafe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his mind replaying every possible scenario.

Finally, the door creaked open, revealing a groggy John B with disheveled hair and a puzzled expression. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Rafe and Barry standing on the doorstep.

“Rafe?” John B’s voice was a mix of confusion and concern. "What are you doing here?"

Rafe’s voice trembled with urgency as he stepped into John B’s living room, his eyes scanning the space frantically. His gaze darted around, searching for any sign of you. “I need to find y/n. Is she here?” he asked, his voice laced with desperation and a tinge of fear.

John B’s expression shifted from surprise to a mixture of concern and secrecy. “No, she’s not here.” He swallowed thickly, his gaze darting away briefly as if grappling with something unspoken. His demeanor was tense, a stark contrast to his usual easygoing nature.

Rafe’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean? Where is she? John B, I need to know.”

John B hesitated, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. “Look, Rafe, there’s more to this than you realize. We’re trying to protect her. Ward’s threats— they’re serious. If we don’t keep her hidden, things could get worse.”

Rafe’s eyes widened, panic and anger mixing in his gaze. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re hiding her? Why wouldn’t you tell me? She’s in danger, and I need to find her!”

John B’s face hardened with resolve. “We’re hiding her because it’s the safest place for her right now. Ward’s dangerous, and if he gets a whiff of where she is, it could end badly. I know you’re desperate, but honestly, you’re the last person who should see her right now. You’re the reason she and all of us are in this.”

Rafe’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. “Don’t you dare say I did this to her.” His voice cracked with a mixture of outrage and anguish.

John B’s expression softened for a moment, but his resolve remained firm. “He’s your dad, Rafe.”

The words hung heavily in the air, cutting through the tension like a knife. Rafe’s face contorted with a mix of pain and frustration. “What does that have to do with anything? You think I’m just going to sit back and let him hurt her? I don’t care who he is—he’s not going to touch her.”

John B’s gaze was steady, though there was an undercurrent of sorrow. “It’s not about who he is. It’s about what he’s capable of. He’s dangerous, and you’re right in the middle of it. That makes it harder for us to protect her if you’re involved.”

Rafe’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “So, what am I supposed to do? Just sit around and wait? I can’t do that. I need to find her.”

John B stepped closer, his tone firm yet sympathetic. “I get that you want to help, but right now, the best thing you can do is stay away. We’ve got a plan to keep her safe, and bringing you into it could complicate things further. You need to focus on dealing with Ward.”

Rafe wasn't simply going to let it go, not when it involved your wellbeing. His frustration began bubbling higher and higher, his anticipation eating away at him as time passed. John B's refusal to give up your whereabouts only complicated things for Rafe further, leaving him to feel like he was backed into a corner waiting for a war to erupt. He knew John B was not one to back down when he stood his ground, but neither was Rafe.

"Look John B, I know we have never gotten along and probably never will, but for just this instance can you please just put that aside and at least give me a clue to where she could be? I've looked at every corner of the Cut and you guys are my only chance to figure out where she is."

John B's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he considered Rafe’s plea. "You think I’m just going to give her up? After everything?" His voice was sharp, defensive.

Rafe stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. "I’m not asking you to trust me, or even forgive me. I just need to know that she’s safe. Ward’s not going to stop, John B. And if I can’t find her, he will."

John B's hardened expression faltered for a moment. He could see the desperation in Rafe's eyes��the desperation of someone who was genuinely afraid for you. Still, he shook his head, taking a breath as he crossed his arms. "Rafe, I don’t trust you. And I don’t trust that you won't lead your dad straight to her, even if you don’t mean to."

Rafe’s shoulders slumped in defeat, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I would never let him touch her. I’m trying to protect her—same as you. I just—" His voice wavered, barely a whisper. "I can't lose her."

John B hesitated, his brow furrowing as he watched Rafe. There was something different in his voice, something more genuine than he’d expected. He wasn’t used to seeing Rafe like this—vulnerable, pleading. It made him hesitate.

"She’s safe," John B finally said, his tone quieter now. "But that’s all you need to know. You need to back off. The more you push, the more danger you put her in."

Rafe’s frustration flared again, but he swallowed it, knowing that arguing more would get him nowhere. He stared at John B for a moment longer, feeling the helplessness creeping up on him. "Just… just tell her I’m trying to help. Please." His voice broke on the last word.

John B nodded stiffly, his expression unreadable. "We’ll make sure she knows," he said, turning to walk back toward the house. "But you need to leave this alone, Rafe. For her sake."

Rafe swallowed hard, the fear and frustration mixing with a sense of helplessness he hadn’t felt in years. "I don’t know how to walk away from this," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I can’t just leave her in danger."

John B’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice. “You love her, don’t you?”

Rafe’s throat tightened, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He looked away, staring at the floor as he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I do.”

A silence settled over the room, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, John B placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “Then trust us,” he said quietly. “Trust me. We’re on the same side here.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Rafe had never been good at handling silence, and the last three weeks had felt like an eternity. He’d made it through plenty of rough patches before, but this time was different. There was an emptiness he couldn’t shake—a nagging, constant fear gnawing at him from the inside out. The usual distraction tactics weren’t working anymore.

He'd spend hours at the golf course with Topper and Kelce, making small talk about future trips and complaining about the latest club drama. But every time he lined up a shot, his mind wandered back to you. He could see you in his peripheral vision, your smile, your laugh—always just out of reach. Even at the Pelican Yacht Club, with its sun-drenched decks and cool sea breeze, he found no comfort. He'd sit there with a drink in hand, zoning out as his friends talked about plans for the next regatta. It felt like they were in another world, one he couldn’t access.

Rafe had told himself you were with the Pogues, hiding out, and that they were probably getting into their usual reckless trouble. At least if you were with them, you weren’t alone. It should’ve been enough to reassure him, but it wasn’t. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he knew that if Ward had any idea where you were, he’d already have made a move. The thought made him nauseous. Ward was gone too—radio silent. It wasn’t like his father to stay off the grid this long, and the eerie stillness around his disappearance made Rafe’s skin crawl.

Every time his phone buzzed, his heart would leap into his throat. He'd drop whatever he was doing, half expecting your name to light up his screen. But it never was. It was always Topper asking about plans for the night, Kelce wanting to hit the links again, or one of the Kook girls trying to make conversation. He was slipping—losing his grip on his usual cool demeanor. His patience had worn thin, and the smallest annoyances set him off. He could feel his friends’ stares when they thought he wasn’t looking, exchanging concerned glances behind his back.

“What’s with you, man?” Topper had asked him last night, standing on the deck of the club, his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “You’ve been out of it lately.”

Rafe had forced a smile, brushing it off with a shrug. “Just family stuff,” he’d said, offering no further explanation. Topper didn’t press, but the worry in his eyes lingered, as if he could see the cracks forming in Rafe’s facade.

In moments of quiet, when the noise of the club died down and the laughter from the other tables faded into background chatter, Rafe felt the crushing weight of his own powerlessness. He didn’t know where you were, if you were safe, or if you were thinking about him at all. And the thought of you being hurt—or worse, alone and afraid—made him want to tear apart the entire island until he found you.

It had never been like this before. He’d never cared so deeply for someone that their absence felt like a physical wound. And now, with both you and his father missing, Rafe felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath his feet.

He pulled out his phone again, his fingers hesitating over your contact. He hadn’t called you in weeks, not since the last time you’d spoken—the argument you’d had before you disappeared. He wanted to hear your voice, to know that you were okay, but he was afraid you wouldn’t pick up. Afraid you would, and he wouldn’t know what to say.

In the end, he just stared at your name on the screen, his thumb hovering over the call button. He hated how weak he felt, how much he needed you. With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and ran a hand through his hair, staring out at the horizon.

Rafe couldn’t stand the noise anymore. The laughter, the clinking glasses, the mindless chatter—it all grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. He clenched his jaw, feeling the tension building in his chest, and before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly.

"I'll catch you guys later," he said, his voice flat.

Topper and Kelce exchanged puzzled looks, caught off guard by his sudden departure. "You good, man?" Kelce called after him, but Rafe didn’t even bother to turn around. He gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder as he made his way out of the club, ignoring the murmurs of confusion from the group behind him.

He needed to be alone, away from the forced smiles and meaningless conversations. He needed to escape the pressure building inside him like a storm ready to break. His feet carried him quickly to his truck, his hands already fumbling for his keys as he approached. The second he got inside, he slammed the door shut and let out a long, shaky breath.

For the first time all day, he felt a sliver of relief. The silence of the truck enveloped him, offering a brief respite from the chaos swirling in his mind. He leaned back against the seat, staring at the steering wheel as he tried to gather his thoughts. It was the first quiet moment he’d had in weeks, and he felt like he could finally breathe.

He pressed his palms to his eyes, as if the pressure could somehow force the pain out of his head. The knot in his chest tightened when he thought of you—where you were, if you were safe, if you even missed him. He was used to feeling in control, to having answers, but right now, he felt like he was spiraling, clutching at straws to make sense of it all. And then there was Ward's disappearance, which left an eerie silence hanging over his life, amplifying his uncertainty tenfold.

After a few minutes, he exhaled deeply, starting the truck. The engine’s rumble filled the air, grounding him in the moment. He pulled out of the lot and headed back home, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He needed to get away from it all, to shut the world out until he could figure out how to mend the mess inside him.

As he drove, the familiar scenery of Figure Eight blurred past him, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows on the road. It was a drive he’d made a thousand times, but today it felt different. The wind blowing through the open windows didn’t bring its usual comfort; it only reminded him of how empty everything felt without you by his side.

When he pulled into the long driveway of his family’s estate, the house loomed before him, its white facade glowing in the fading light. It was eerily quiet. He cut the engine and sat there for a moment, staring at the mansion he’d grown up in. It was supposed to feel like home, but right now, it felt like a prison—a stark reminder of everything that was slipping through his fingers.

He made his way inside, letting the door click shut behind him. The silence of the house was suffocating. Rafe threw his keys on the table and headed up the stairs to his room. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he took in the familiar sight of his space. It felt just as empty as everything else.

He sank down onto the edge of his bed, dropping his head into his hands. For once, he didn’t try to push the feelings away. He let them wash over him—the fear, the frustration, the longing. He knew he couldn’t hide from it anymore. You were gone, his father was missing, and everything was falling apart.

He squeezed his eyes shut, whispering into the darkness of his room, “Where are you?” The words were a plea, a question directed at you, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He just hoped that, wherever you were, you were thinking of him too.

Rafe's chest tightened, and the room seemed to shrink around him as his emotions threatened to boil over. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but they welled up regardless, turning his vision blurry. His eyes became red and glossy, the ache in his heart growing unbearable with every passing second. It was like a ghost of you lingered in the room, haunting him with memories he couldn’t escape—your laugh, the way you’d look at him, the feel of your hand in his. Now, all he felt was emptiness.

He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that this was his fault. He had made a grave mistake, he was sure of it. If only he had kept a closer watch, if only he had been more careful, maybe you wouldn’t be in danger now. The thought of you being out there, vulnerable and alone, tore him apart. He could almost see you, scared and needing him, but no matter how hard he tried to reach out, you slipped further away from his grasp.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, his voice cracking as he bit down on the words. The apology felt hollow, echoing back at him in the empty room. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to make the pain stop—but he was trapped in this limbo of not knowing, of being helpless. And for someone like Rafe, who thrived on control, the helplessness was its own special kind of torture.

His hand tightened around his phone, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it like it was the source of all his pain. In a sudden burst of frustration and grief, he hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp crack, then fell to the floor, the screen shattering into pieces. For a moment, the silence after the impact felt almost comforting. He stared at the wreckage, chest heaving, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

But the brief satisfaction faded quickly, replaced by a hollow ache. He started pacing, the walls closing in on him as his thoughts spiraled out of control. His mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios, images of you hurt or scared flashing in his head. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it as if the pain could snap him out of this nightmare.

“Dammit!” he shouted, his voice breaking with a mixture of anger and desperation. He felt like he was losing it. He needed to do something—anything—but there was nowhere to go, no one to fight, and no way to find you. He was stuck, and it felt like drowning in quicksand.

Rafe stopped pacing, leaning against the wall as his body sagged under the weight of it all. His fingers dug into the plaster as he tried to ground himself, taking deep, shuddering breaths to calm the storm raging inside. The tears he had been holding back spilled over, streaking down his cheeks. He wasn’t used to this—crying, feeling this vulnerable. It made him feel weak, and he hated it. But right now, he couldn’t help it. He felt broken, shattered like the phone on the ground, and the pieces were too scattered to put back together.

He slid down the wall, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. He couldn’t escape the thought of you—your smile, the way you’d look at him like he was more than just a Cameron, more than just the troubled son of Ward. He hadn’t realized how much he needed you until you were gone. And now, he was left with nothing but the crushing guilt that he had failed to protect you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as he heard the knock echo through the house, slicing through the heavy silence. He froze, wiping his tears quickly and forcing himself to compose. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in hours, and he certainly wasn’t expecting company. The confusion quickly morphed into paranoia. He clenched his jaw, his eyes darting to the front door. His mind raced, imagining who it could be. His father? Back from wherever he’d disappeared to, ready to follow through on his threats? The thought alone sent a chill down his spine.

He needed to be ready.

Rafe’s gaze shifted to his bedside table, where the knife gleamed under the dim light. He reached for it, gripping it tightly in his hand, finding some comfort in the cold metal pressing into his palm. He moved cautiously, his steps light and silent, like a predator stalking prey. As he descended the stairs, every creak of the old wood sounded like a gunshot in his ears, making his heart hammer against his ribs. He held his breath, trying to keep quiet as he approached the door, his pulse throbbing in his throat.

He reached the bottom of the steps, his eyes locked on the door. It was slightly ajar, as if whoever was outside had hesitated, not yet willing to push their way in. Rafe moved closer, his back pressed against the wall, knife held at the ready. He strained to listen, trying to pick up any hint of who it might be on the other side. He didn’t hear much—just the faint sound of someone shifting their weight, maybe a shaky breath. His grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles turning white as he mentally prepared himself for an attack.

With a deep, steadying breath, he reached for the doorknob. His fingers trembled as they wrapped around the cool metal, twisting it slowly. He pulled the door open just a crack, peeking through the small sliver to catch a glimpse of whoever was on the other side. He gulped, his throat dry, as he took in the figure standing in the dim porch light.

Rafe's breath hitched as he stared at you, feeling a wave of emotions he couldn't quite place. Relief, disbelief, anger, and something else he couldn’t name all swirled together, leaving him speechless for a moment. His hand trembled, the knife still held in a death grip at his side. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He just stood there, taking you in like he was trying to convince himself you were real and not some figment of his imagination.

"Y/N?" he whispered, voice cracking. It was as if saying your name aloud might break the fragile spell of the moment. He’d pictured this reunion a thousand times—what he’d say, how he’d react—but now that you were actually here, all those plans evaporated. He felt paralyzed, his eyes scanning you up and down, searching for any sign of harm.

But you looked...fine. Unscathed. Healthier than he'd expected. It threw him off completely. He’d been imagining the worst for weeks, thinking you were in danger, or worse—hurt. Yet here you were, standing on his porch, seemingly calm and collected.

Rafe’s shoulders slumped, his posture collapsing under the weight of all the worry he'd carried. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, feeling the knife slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. He didn’t even care. He just took a step closer, his eyes fixed on yours, desperate to make sense of what was happening.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he croaked out, his voice breaking. “Where have you been? Why—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as he raked a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me you were okay?”

“I’m tired of hiding, Rafe,” you said flatly, your voice carrying a strange calmness in the chaos of his thoughts. “Nobody else knows that I’m here. I left without telling them.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed in confusion, his mind trying to connect the dots. His heart still pounded in his chest, the weight of everything he’d been through over the past few weeks making it hard to focus. “I... I don’t get it. I thought you hated me because of all of this. I don’t get why—why you’re here.” His voice was shaky, filled with uncertainty as his gaze darted between you and the ground, as if the truth might be hiding in the space between.

"I never hated you," you said, your voice surprisingly steady. You met his gaze head-on, your eyes unflinching, though there was an underlying tension in your shoulders. "I did what I had to do to stay safe."

Rafe's brows furrowed as he processed your words, a painful confusion swirling inside him. "Why didn’t you call me? Why did you disappear without telling me where you were?" His voice cracked with the strain of his emotions. Every inch of his body screamed for answers, for the clarity he'd been missing for weeks.

You stood there, taking a deep breath before answering, the calmness in your voice betraying the storm brewing in your chest. "Because I didn’t want you to come looking for me. Ward knew you would be wherever I was, and I couldn’t risk it."

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, and he felt his world tilt for a second, the weight of your actions now making sense, but only in the way that left him struggling to breathe. He didn’t know how to feel. His hands tightened at his sides, fists clenching as the frustration built up inside him.

"Of course I would look for you, Y/N," Rafe finally choked out, his voice rough with emotion. "I had to make sure you were safe, and it was killing me having to just sit here and hope you were protected."

Your gaze softened, the conflict in your eyes clear as you watched him struggle with the words. You could see the hurt, the years of worry in his eyes, and it made your heart ache in return. But there was something else there too—something you couldn't ignore any longer.

"I know, and I’m sorry." Your voice came out quieter, more fragile, as if it hurt you just as much to say those words. "But I don’t want to do this anymore. No more games, no more hiding, no more danger."

Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he took in your words, his chest tightening. His first instinct was to reach for you, to pull you into his arms and keep you safe, to make up for the weeks of fear and confusion. But there was something else behind your words, a finality that stopped him in his tracks. He stared at you, disbelief and pain mixing together.

"What do you mean, Y/N?" His voice cracked again, and he fought to steady himself. "What do you mean, 'no more hiding'?"

You took a deep breath, stepping forward slightly, your posture firm but vulnerable. "I mean I want to stop running. I want to stop being afraid. I’ve been through enough, Rafe. And I don’t want to keep living in the shadows, waiting for the next threat to come."

Rafe’s eyes softened, a mix of guilt and understanding crossing his features. He wanted so badly to fix things, to make everything right, but the weight of what you were asking him to do loomed heavy between you both. The past few weeks, the pain, the fear—it was all more than he knew how to handle. But looking at you, standing there, finally free of the fear that had controlled you, he knew what he had to do.

Rafe’s heart hammered in his chest as he processed your words. His mind raced, but the ache in his chest intensified. "What do you want to do, Y/N?" he asked, the rawness in his voice betraying the vulnerability he couldn’t hide.

You didn’t hesitate. Your expression was steady, determined. “I want to leave this place,” you said softly, but with the weight of everything behind it. “I want to go somewhere nobody can find us. Somewhere we can live a normal life, without the constant fear. I can’t take this anymore, Rafe. I need out.”

His breath caught in his throat as you stepped closer. “I want a new life," you continued, your eyes locked on his. "A life where it’s just us, without all the chaos.”

The words hit Rafe like a storm. For a second, he couldn’t find his voice, too overwhelmed by the possibility of a life with you that didn’t have to be defined by the fear and danger that had haunted him for so long.

“You… you really mean that?” he choked out, the doubt evident in his voice. “You want to leave all this behind? For real?”

You nodded. “Yes, Rafe. I’m tired of running, tired of being afraid. I want to build something different. With you.”

Rafe’s chest tightened at the sincerity in your words. He had always known you were strong, but this—this was something different. The weight of what you were asking, what you were willing to risk for the two of you, settled in the pit of his stomach. It was overwhelming, but it also felt like the right kind of overwhelming.

“You’d really leave it all behind? You’d trust me with that?” His voice cracked on the last word, the depth of his feelings for you surfacing in a way he hadn’t expected.

You took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I trust you, Rafe,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And I’m done with this life. I want more than this. I want a future. With you.”

Rafe stood there for a moment, his mind scrambling to catch up with the magnitude of what you were saying. The idea of a life without his father’s control, without the constant tension, without all the chaos—it was almost too much to comprehend. But the one thing that stood out, clearer than anything, was you. You were standing there, offering him everything.

He stepped forward, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if trying to ground himself in the reality of what was happening. “Then let’s do it,” he said, his voice fierce with determination. “Let’s leave this place behind, together.”

The words hit you like a breath of fresh air, lifting the heaviness that had been suffocating you. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to hide behind walls of fear or uncertainty. You could finally see a future, a future with him, far away from the chaos and the danger. Your heart swelled in your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile spread across your face.

Rafe noticed it instantly—how your eyes softened, how the sadness and strain seemed to melt away. The corners of your lips curled upward, and without thinking, you stepped into him, closing the space between you. His hand tightened around yours, but before he could say anything, your lips found his.

It was sudden, but it was everything. The kiss was deep, urgent, and filled with the unspoken promises you both had carried in silence. Rafe responded instinctively, pulling you closer, his hand sliding to the small of your back as if to hold you in place, as if he could anchor you to him, keep you safe, keep you close.

In one swift motion, Rafe lifted you off the ground, his arms strong around you, as if he could carry all of your burdens with the ease of holding you in his arms. You let out a soft, surprised laugh as he kicked the door shut behind him, still holding you against him, your lips still locked in a kiss that spoke louder than any words could.

Once he gently set you back on your feet, he didn’t immediately pull away. Instead, he carefully brushed a lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your skin. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a mixture of love, relief, and something deeper—something raw that he couldn’t hide even if he tried.

“I’m gonna give you the life you deserve,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his expression. This was no longer about survival or fear—it was about a future that was finally within reach.

You smiled, your heart full, your gaze unwavering as you met his. “You already are,” you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath, but it was enough. “Just being here with you... that’s all I ever wanted.”

Rafe’s expression softened further, a slow smile spreading across his face, and in that moment, you saw the man he could be—strong, protective, and driven by love rather than chaos.

"I love you, Y/N." The words hung between you like a promise, deep and unwavering. Rafe's breath caught for just a moment, the weight of what he'd just said settling in. He'd said it before, in fleeting moments, but now, in this moment, it felt different. There was no fear of loss, no uncertainty clouding his mind. It was just the raw truth.

"I love you, too, Rafe," you whispered back, your voice steady and sure. This time, you didn’t have to doubt it. It wasn’t just about the words—it was the way you felt in this moment, with him. Your pulse quickened, not from fear, but from the certainty of what was to come.

He pulled you closer, his arms strong around you as if to keep you tethered to him, to the life you were about to build. His lips brushed over your forehead, and then he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze unwavering, filled with all the raw emotion you’d both buried for too long.

With a soft smile, Rafe leaned down to kiss you again, this time more tender, slower, as if savoring the moment, cherishing the bond that had been built through all the chaos and uncertainty. This kiss was a promise—one of protection, of understanding, and above all, of love.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

taglist: @rrosiitas, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87,

@augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall, @lucfics, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle, @maybankslover, @peachy4u2, @hockeybabe87, @yeosxxx, @zizouu23, @h34rtsformilli, @maybankslover, @yawnzshit, @rubixgsworld, @tsumudoll, @nosebeers, @literatureluster, @wearemadeofstardust0

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #obx 4 #rafe cameron imagine

223 notes · View notes

jazeswhbhaven · 1 day ago

Text

A Successful Hunt in Heaven | React | Spoilers | Prologue

LETS GO YA'LL

First, let me say that this is completely different than Levi's Torture story and when I get a chance to read the rest of this???? I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a 10...

Cause let's jump in???

We start with the fact that MC is standing in front of a throne, everything is in white and angels are calling them Gabriel.

I was like???? AYO ARE WE GABRIEL???

It seems, that we are indeed Gabriel....

it's so good to see our angry bae again, even if he's cussin' us out

not that he can help it, we are literally Gabriel right now. but why the fuck are we????

SO it's flashback time and we're in Gehenna after a big battle. Three kings Mammon/Levi/Beel came to help out and the results were victorious.

Mammon is so that guy because if I were watching him lifting buildings with ease all day, I would. Lemonade in hand like those ladies watching the lifeguard at the pool.

So the kings are talking amongst themselves about Satan reacting to Mammon's saying of "how Gehenna is his so ofc he's gonna help" and Beel saying that Satan would headbutt him with his horns if he heard him and it's surprising that he didn't (foreshadowing??)

Mammon just loves to call his boyfriend small huh? Lol

We know Beel, you like to spy on us. Next you're gonna be randomly showing up when we're showering or something and be like HEY JUST CHECKING UP ON YOUUUUU.

My stinka boo. <3

Anyways....

Leviathan, give me one reason why I shouldn't box with you right now. One good reason other than the fact that I can't fight demons 💀

I ain't payin' you nary a cent back.

But yeah everyone starts to depart though, since the job is done and it's time for the devils of Gehenna to relax and chill!

I'm crying because I like how Levi and Beel's dynamic here is still "Ugh my dumbass best friend that annoys me sometimes" because He was getting onto Beel for being careless and making Bael work too much and Beel was like "Awh but you're closer to me :(((((" and Levi is like "Nah you got 6 other kings" skskskkskskksks And then he drags him away here? I love them your honor, their dynamic makes me crack up each time.

BUT now that this is over and done with we're at the PUB GETTIN' DRUNK LETS GET IT

Even Ppyong comments that he hasn't had a drink in a while and Sitri is over here yappin' about tea and how long it takes to brew compared to just pouring alcohol and throwing it in your mouth. Then a funny thing with Leraye happens...

I can hear him in my head and it's hilarious. Because Leraye why you sayin' it like this? lmaoooo

After being chided that he was being too damn loud in his ear and some other interactions from the other nobles, it's then realized that Satan actually hasn't been around in a while. No one has seen him in a couple days and I'm just like....wait ya'll just been doing whatever and not concerned that your King is literally not around for over 48 hours? o k

We then get Belial/Jjyu busting in the pub and saying there's an emergency meeting to talk about Satan's disappearance. Turns out Zagan and Belial noticed that Satan has been gone for a quite a while, Zagan being the first to notice and so he called the meeting. During this time when everyone is thinking of what's happening and what's going on, with MC thinking more about the "how this happened" rather than the "how can we fix this"??? There's a solution right outside the door.....

BUT FIRST

Paimon is so real because if a bead can shut up Jjyu it really does give us a reality check on how small he is lmao

ALSO POINTING WEAPONS AT THE DOOR? ITS ON SIGHT?

Oh.

oh.

That's my cat daddy right there.

I'm so happy we get to have Ronove content ya'll. And so randomly too. I wonder if we will get other Abaddon devils as a cameo in the other cards??? Hopefully? MAYBE?

So the nobles are wondering who called him there, and it turns out Zagan did.

And he was trying to say that from the beginning but since Ppyong wasn't looking at him, he couldn't translate. To which Astaroth is like "Just speak tho." LMAO

Anyways,

It seems the Abaddon devils love the thrill of danger. Dantalian also seems to love that to where he will literally put himself in harms way. But I mean I guess the devils there are just built different as they keep saying anyways.

So in order to save Satan though, someone has to go undercover as an angel. Problem with that is devils are unable to lie so if they were caught they would immediately just give up and admit they were sneaking in. But MC....

LOL this dialogue had me like??? OMG p l s. First...this is actually for once something I'd say, more in a joking sense even though this is clearly a serious moment.

I also love how Sitri was like "okay but the only thing you know how to do is lie, MC" and I was like...thanks Sitri thank you so much for your support you have no idea how much it means to me /s

But he's right, MC doesn't know how to do anything else which at this point damn we still don't know how to fight with magic or something??? Anything??

Thank you for letting us know this information Ronove. You are a treasure.

So, we end up seeing Ronove's power in action btw. How it works is that he says the words, and they work as long as he doesn't swallow.

R o n o v e

I do not need to know how you were eating food with your butt. Thank you sir. (why did I go there? Because it's a joke that's been done already in another media lmao so if you know you know) Honestly though if not his butt then probably made another hole somewhere or he ate through his dick who the fuck knows this is Hell and he's from Abaddon, anything could go.

He's so hot I'm crying. Like...I'm trying to imagine what a wet voice is and it's making me shiver in a bad/good way.

So his power is in action, he says "you will be an angel" and he pretty much spits in in MC's mouth and mixes it up and tells you to swallow. (reference my thirst post with him saying to swallow it)

So, there's no specifics to his powers. It works, but not the in way anyone would expect. This type of theme in most stories always ends up bad in some shape or form when the words are vague or broad. So yeah MC was an angel alright.....

So we were back in Heaven, and now we understand that MC is possessing Gabriel's body. I wonder if he's aware that's happening and he's internally screaming or if he's just kinda unable to do anything about it and is unconscious the entire time?

It's believable surface wise because everyone is falling for it, even Satan who was cursing and spitting on MC/Gabriel to point where they had to gag him.

Ngl, I'd have a hard time being into this "roleplay" too because he legit doesn't know it's MC so he hates them. It's kind of like a revenge mirror thing from Gabe's christmas card (i still have to do a react on that btw)

THIS????? FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gabriel needs to make those faces more.

But the entire time MC was pretending to be Gabriel I was like "GURL FOCUS" because they kept getting distracted by Satan looking fine as fuck in those restraints and that gag in his mouth. Which I mean??? EYAH but we're here to do mission rescue. But now we about to do some

Mission I'm going to fuck Satan as the angel he hates. And I'm so anticipating that Satan is going to react and sort of like it....SO YEAH YEAH YEAH INDIRECT WAY OF CXC

I did not originally ship any of the angels with any of the Kings or Nobles butttttt after I get my hands on the rest of this card story I'll be a believer.

Funny thing though is that I did in fact get the artifact for that discounted 250 pull they give us each time and it clearly is a reference to the key from Hellraiser which is one of my favorite Horror films~

we have such sights to show you

Okay but crossover of Kings as each of the different Cenobites when? Cause I need it.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb screenshots #whb spoilers #whb new card #satan torture card #whb ronove #there's so much of him here i'm happy #we get to see satan again and that's cap #jazewhbreacts🖤

119 notes · View notes

butterflyslinky · 1 day ago

Text

It's been seven months. They've seen each other on calls, but they keep up a mask of stiff professionalism if they have to talk at all.

But now Buck's sitting in a gay bar, looking for some fun the same way he does on every 48 off. His expectations are low. No one seems to want a real relationship, not that he's really trying for one, ad the sex is mediocre at best.

Because none of them are Tommy.

He's two drinks in when he hears a familiar laugh and turns. There's Tommy, sitting four stools down and talking to the bartender. Buck wonders how he missed him entering the bar, but it doesn't matter. What matters is Tommy is here, so close, and Buck...

Okay, he'd jumped the gun asking Tommy to move in. And everything he's said before that had been...not great. Thinking about it, it's no wonder Tommy had hit the brakes. Though he maybe could have asked to just take a break instead of ending it completely.

Though it would have gone the same way, probably.

Buck knocks back his last drink and stands. He's steady on his feet as he makes his way down the bar and plops himself into the empty seat next to Tommy

Tommy doesn't look shocked to see him. Not happy, either. Just kind of resigned. "Buck?"

"Don't," Buck says. "I don't want..." He grits his teeth to force back tears. "I think we need to talk."

"Why?" Tommy asks.

"Because I have things to say to you," Buck says. "And I'm not going to let you just walk out again."

He's said all those things, in texts that sat unanswered, voice messages that were probably deleted without being heard. This time, he wants to make sure Tommy hears.

"I don't have a lot of time tonight," Tommy says.

"Then I'll say it fast. You broke my heart, Tommy. You said you were my first but not my last...but you weren't my first. I've dated and broken up before, I know what relationships are. Just cause you're a dude doesn't mean it was any different. As to not being my last, well, I've had plenty in the last seven months and none of them are going to be my anything. I told you they can be the same thing, and I mean it. I don't want to be in love with anyone the way I'm in love with you."

"Evan..."

"And if you don't want me, fine, but just say that instead of giving me some bullshit about not wanting your heart broken. Because I can't break your heart, Tommy. Maybe it's been seven months, but I'm still in love with you, and I don't see that changing any time soon." Evan looks down for a moment. "So...I know I'm a lot. I know I said some dumb shit. And I know there's a lot I still don't know. But I do know I want you to come home with me, and you don't have to stay, but...I want to try again. Now that I know a little more."

Tommy's eyes are bright when Buck looks up. "I can't."

"What?"

"Evan, I can't come with you tonight. Or any night."

Buck's stomach sinks. "Is there someone else?"

"No," Tommy says. "No, just...I got a new job. In Seattle...they offered me a command. A chance to be captain...don't get much more brave and trailblazing than that, do you, being an openly gay fire captain." He swallows hard. "I'm leaving on Monday."

Buck stares. The world seems to be tilting, even though he hasn't had that much to drink. "Oh."

"I thought you would have heard," Tommy says. "It's been kind of big news around the department."

"Everyone's been extra delicate with me," Buck says. "They don't talk about you where they think I can hear." He forces a smile. "Congratulations...you deserve it."

"Yeah?" Tommy says.

"Yeah. I'm happy for you." Buck waves to the bartender. "Put his drinks on my tab."

"Evan..."

"Least I can do. Since...since it's really over."

Tommy nods, but he looks sad. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I can just...start again. And I guess you can, too."

"Yeah," Buck says. "I guess I can."

--------------

It's a stupid idea, but Buck's full of those. He knows that it'll probably end in disaster, that he'll end up crawling back with his tail between his legs again.

But he has to try.

The airport looks just the same as it had when he dropped Abby off all those years ago. The same was it had been when he'd watched her walk out of his life, only to be seen again when it was unavoidable.

He's not doing that now.

Tommy is easy to spot, in spite of the crowd, standing in the check-in line. Buck thinks it must be kismet, that he's on time. There had been several flights to Seattle today, and he just took his best shot.

"Tommy!"

Tommy turns, and his brow furrows when he sees Buck. "Evan?"

Buck pushes his way through the crown, suitcase heavy in his hand, until he reaches Tommy's side. Tommy looks him over, then down at the bag. "Evan, what..."

"I know you said it's over," Buck says. "And that you don't want to try this again. And if you tell me to leave right now, I will. But I couldn't take the chance that I'd never see you again, even if you don't want to be in my life. And don't worry about work, Bobby transferred me to a different station than the one you're commanding, and I have a place to stay until I can find an apartment, and I'll get a new car since I gave the Jeep back to Maddie, but..."

"Evan," Tommy interrupts. "Did you just upend your life to follow me to Seattle?"

"Yes," Evan says. "If you'll let me."

Tommy stares for a minute before he pulls Buck into a kiss. And this time, Buck really knows it will be forever.

#911 #bucktommy #ficlet

136 notes · View notes

honorhearted · 21 hours ago

Text

"I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

He snorted. "Well, I certainly hope you'll remember this moment when you are, in fact, disappointed in me in the future. I'm quite the over-achiever, after all."

Penelope spoke of a son following in his footsteps, and despite the leap in his chest at such a thought, it was soon soured as Benjamin drifted to thinking of war, of destruction and pain and death, and his shoulders curled inward. "I should hope not," he murmured. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not share my stories with our children... I fought so they could be free, so they could be happy, and I don't wish for them to know any of the pain I've endured. Not even a moment."

Penelope, thankfully, seemed quite content to continue teasing him, so Benjamin latched on to the much lighter fare of conversation. With a snort, he asked, "How can I not compliment you? That seems like a double-edged sword, and I'm not about to risk displeasing my betrothed. Unless, of course, it leads to more untoward requests."

Penelope giggled, leaning into his touch with a gentle incline of her neck. "If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed."

"We'll never leave the house," Benjamin agreed, chuckling. "And if anyone trespasses during our honeymoon, I'll be certain to greet them with a musket. I think I've earned the right to be possessive of my wife. If they wish to hold an audience with you, they can wait in line." Grazing his lips along her shoulder, he muttered, "Unfortunately for them, I am the only one granted permission to enter that coveted queue."

Penelope hummed. "Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise."

Benjamin fought back a groan. "Don't go giving me any ideas... I'm serious, Pen, I'm at the point where I'd rather just kidnap you for a week, and then claim a loss of sanity." He shrugged. "We're already engaged, but that at least would ensure that you have to marry me."

Penelope followed his glance toward the clock. "I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous."

Benjamin grimaced. "You don't know the half of it...I'm afraid men are the far weaker of the two sexes, so I'll be in the direst of straits."

Turning to face him, Penelope smoothed her palms along his chest with a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

"Impossible," he vowed. "I'll be thinking of you each and every waking moment, slowly being driven to madness." Dropping a kiss onto her forehead, he lowly added, "I hope it isn't too much to hope for the same?"

Within a week's time, Benjamin found himself in Penelope's presence again. Her mother was distracted with God only knew what -- it seemed that marriages of the ton were quite the affair -- and despite his good cheer, he kept pacing around the room.

"I'm so bloody nervous," he confessed. "If my assumptions are correct, Father will be arriving sometime today, and I just... I'm unsure of what to expect." He halted in his restless trek, turned, and then glanced toward Penelope with a low breath. "I never told you this, but I essentially ran away from home... Not because of anything I did, but rather, because I couldn't face the pain of losing my brother. So I did the cowardly thing, and I left my father all alone."

Shoulders hunkering, Benjamin looked down at his boots in shame. "I've written to Father, of course -- I'm not that cold-blooded -- but I imagine he must still be hurt. And I want him to love you so very much, but...what if I've already ruined everything before it's even had a chance to begin?"

If I'd known from the start how we would've ended up, I'm not so certain I would have ever been a gentleman.

"I find that hard to believe. Even in the throes of passion, you're a perfect gentleman." Pen quirked her lips into a sweet smile, a renewed flush creeping onto her cheeks. She knew she was lucky to have found someone like Ben, and that such a someone loved her as intensely as she loved them. Pen had nearly accepted the fact that her life would most likely be devoid of love. She might learn to love a husband, if she had been fortunate enough to find a man willing to marry her, but she had never expected to find a love match. And yet she had been proved wrong time and time again.

"Yes, actually." She teased, arching her brows in defiance. "I would like you to reenact the story of the handsome, charming foreign soldier who seduces the insipid wallflower with his smile and devilishly sharp wit. Are you familiar with that one?" Perching her hands on her hips, she tried to maintain a neutral expression but she found it hard when her body was still thrumming with electricity. "I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

You know I love it when you give commands. Pen bit at the inside of her cheek to suppress a grin. She'd been told on multiple ocassions that she had a tendency to be too bossy. She liked to be in charge of things, especially when so much of her life seemed to be entirely out of her control. Whistledown had afforded her the luxury of controlling the narrative of scandals in the ton, but there were often times her pride spilled over.

"Is that so? I do enjoy giving commands every once in a while. I think it runs in the family. Perhaps, one day, a son of ours will follow in their father's footsteps. Though, I wouldn't mind if they decided to become little poets and authors instead."

Although she knew she would support her children in whatever endeavors they found themselves thrown into, Pen wasn't entirely eager to imagine her sons off to war. Even so, she refused to dwell on such a thing. Those were matters for the future, problems to be dealt with when they arose. For now, Pen was satisfied with living in the moment and planning for the near future instead.

"You must not give me so many compliments this soon. I'll hardly have any motivation to do better if you spoil me too much. Lucky for you, I'm a dutiful student."

Pen let out a soft giggle, reaching up to rest her hands on his arms. The idea of going a single day without him was tortuous, even though she knew it would be worth the wait. If they were to behave properly, it could be weeks until she felt his arms around her again. She was sure she would go insane in that much time, but at least she would be able to relish in the memory of him until then. The idea of a special marriage license was terribly tempting, but Pen knew that it would be near impossible to get. A lady of the ton marrying a foreigner was not likely to earn a favorable compliance by Her Majesty. Instead, she resigned herself to her fate. If nothing else, it would prove to be a good practice of patience.

"If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed." She sighed, nuzzling into his touch. Although Pen was determined to not be an overly needy or nagging wife, she had a feeling she would be following him around like a puppy for most of the honeymoon--and long after, as well. She had spent her entire life searching for a place to belong and now that she'd finally found it in Ben's arms, she wasn't in a rush to part with the feeling.

"Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise." Even as she teased, Pen knew there was some truth behind her words. Her mother was enjoying the party planning aspect of the wedding and Pen didn't mind handing over the reigns since such a thing was far too overwhelming to handle. All she wanted was to hide away from the world and be with her fiancé.

"I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous." Turning around to face him, Pen whined, lips puffed out into a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

#nomdepen #a couple of wallflowers #ben x penelope #fight for what queue believe in

198 notes · View notes

steviewashere · 24 hours ago

Text

CW: Infertility (Coming from my own experience just...with a uterus.)

Thinking right now about Steve who wants his own family really bad, but finds out he's 100% infertile.

He only finds out after a failed marriage. His first marriage. Has a beautiful, wonderful, just absolutely incredible wife who accepts everything about his past—stuff he won't talk about and otherwise. Yet, the one thing they knew for certain was a definite in their relationship was children. However, for some reason (that I don't have), his wife rejects the idea of adopting children. So they try. They try and try and try.

Eventually, they get their eggs and sperm analyzed. Her eggs are healthy, her uterus is fine, no complications associated with her ovaries.

Steve, in his next visit, finds out he's infertile. It's not genetically caused. His parents were very fertile, just decided to have only one child. And—maybe due to some Upside Down bullshit; bat bites being untreated, injuries being too traumatic—his sperm production and his sperm vitality are completely destroyed.

He's devastated, of course he is. Brings it up to his wife. They agree to go their separate ways because this was something they both wanted, but now can't have.

And then he just floats about for a while. Quiet and disheartened.

He goes back to Hawkins and bumps into Eddie. Now, I'm thinking, personally, that this isn't some romance story. They're strictly platonic in this scenario (for now).

They get to talking and somewhere in the conversation, Steve's infertility comes up. Eddie tries to gently explain to him that there's other options to have children. "Foster care," he says, "it's where I was for a while. You can adopt from an orphanage, from a hospital. There's always the option for surrogacy, y'know. A lot of different"—

"Eds," Steve interrupts, "I appreciate this, but I...I don't want to talk about it anymore. It hurts too much to think about."

"Sorry," Eddie apologizes.

Steve just shakes his head, resigned. "It's not your fault," he murmurs, "guess I'm just upset that my body doesn't work the way it's supposed to."

"Not everybody's works the way it's supposed to, Steve."

"Yeah," he whispers, "but I was sorta hoping my own would."

There's a lull in the conversation. A long while of just silence and a cigarette being passed and the gentle rustle of trees around them. Outside, in the Forest Hills trailer park, staring down a set of rusted swings.

"How do you think I should handle this, Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"This...this body issue. What am I supposed to do about it? I'm, like...like grieving over nothing."

"You grieve, Steve," Eddie answer simply, "you get angry and you cry. That's all you can really do."

"I don't want to be angry, though. I want...I want to be happy. I want my dream to come true! I want"—he sighs and swallows and looks on ahead of him. To a place he once visited constantly when he still lived full-time in Hawkins, not just passing through. Out on a town that he once called home, a place where he couldn't be the person he wanted to be. Couldn't get what he needed.—"I want to love my kid in a way I never got."

And Eddie looks to him. To his profile. Shuffles closer, cigarette out on the porch. Arm wrapping over Steve's shoulders, tugging him in. "I know," Eddie whispers, "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm really, really sorry."

"It's not your fault, Eds."

"It's not yours either."

He keeps staring out. To a place that was hopeful. Where his dreams bared new. When things seemed reasonable and he could face everything head-on and knew exactly what he wanted for himself. A future of laughter and soft lullabies and hugs warm enough to soothe the world.

There'll be other chances. But not now. Not when he's like this.

"I know," he merely mutters, "I know."

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #cw: infertility #infertilit #angst and hurt/comfort #partially a hopeful ending #but. guess I couldn't even give y'all that

86 notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 21 hours ago

Note

bucky x flirty! or like unhinged chaotic! reader, maybe him thinking she doesn’t like him she’s just a flirt, or him falling for how totally backwards she is

I love this request! This is 100% inspired by that one scene in the Thunderbolts trailer where he's on the motorcycle because I've been thinking about it a lot.

cw: reader gets hit on by a creepy guy and he gets aggressive

You almost stumble and fall onto the concrete outside of the club you were just thrown out of as the man who you were thrown out with tries to help you to your feet.

"Don't touch me," you push him away before retrieving your taser from you purse. You've never used it, but you've watched countless videos on it and now seems like as good of a time as any.

You point the taser at him, but that doesn't seem to scare him like you thought it would and he just steps closer. This is the whole reason why the both of you got kicked out of the club, so you're not sure why he's trying again.

He had been getting a little too handsy and wouldn't stop when you had asked him to, so why's it your fault that you had punched him? That had just been self defense at that point. And because he couldn't accept the consequences of his own actions, he had tried to punch you back, but you moved out of the way before he could and he had ended up punching the poor girl behind you so things got a little rowdy after that and because the two of you had caused it, you were asked to leave.

So there you are, on the street with a creep because you assured your friends who had driven you there that they could stay when they insisted on coming with you. All you have is your phone, your ID, a little cash, a pen, and a tube of lip gloss, so you don't have enough for a cab or even an uber to take you home. You suppose you could take the bus, but the last late night one was already gone.

And then, as if an answer to your prayers, you watch a motorcycle stop right in front of you as he waits for the light a few feet away to turn green. You usually didn't do things like this, but you're desperate. You're not thinking clearly even though you were only able to have a few sips of the drink you had ordered before you had been asked to leave.

Bucky turns towards you and gives you a nod as if to acknowledge you, but he can't help notice how uneasy how you must feel, squeezing the device in your hand so hard that he's convinced that you're going to break it. He then turns to the man who's standing next to you and he now understands why you're so anxious.

He's a creep to say the least and the way he's looking at you makes Bucky's stomach drop. He wants to step in to help, but he knows he he shouldn't. It's none of his business and he promised himself he would keep to himself from now on.

But the man lunges towards you and Bucky is about to step in, but just his luck, the light turns green and he's forced to drive off, leaving you behind to get a black eye or possibly worse. His stomach is in knots now and he can't just let that vile man get away with hurting you so before he can stop himself, he's doing a U-turn and somehow is able to weave through traffic before pulling up right beside you, putting the bike in park before he gets off of it, making a beeline for you.

The man has you by the arms now, yelling in your face at how much of a bitch your are and you're face is turned away from him, your eyes shut tight, still holding onto your taser for dear life.

"May I see that?" Bucky asks and your eyes open before handing the weapon to him without a second thought.

Buck then turns to the man who's still yelling at you, ready to wring his neck. But he hold his hand out for the man to shake, making sure to hold out the metal one so he doesn't have to actually touch the man.

"Hey, how ya doin", I'm Bucky," he says with a smile and the man goes to shake his hand, his smile matching Bucky's.

"Oh, I'm-"

"Oh, I wasn't asking," Buck cuts him off then brings the taser up to his neck, pressing the button on the side of it as he does so. The man quickly drops to the ground, convulsing in reaction to the taser and Bucky takes you by the hand, the two of you hurrying to his motorcycle.

"You're my hero," you tell him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and he has to turn away to hide his blush. Women have never been so forward with him, he usually purposely turns them off because none of them would understand who he is, well, who he is now.

He gets on the bike without a word and you follow him, wrapping your arms tight around his waist and he's caught off guard by how forward you've been with him despite him being a total stranger.

Bucky starts up the bike and tries not to squirm when you rest your head against his back like it's something you've done so many times before. After passing a few lights, he manages to get the balls to ask you for your address and when you tell him, he's surprised to find that it's not far from where he lives. Just great.

You snuggle against him for the rest of the ride and Bucky wants nothing more than to jump out of his own skin. He always had a hard time letting people in, but especially after everything that happened with Hydra. He finds himself having a hard time trusting anyone he didn't know before everything and that includes you even though you seem really sweet.

The bike pulls into your driveway and you get off of it, fixing your clothes and hair after you do so. And just when Bucky thinks you're going to leave, you do two things that catch him off guard. First, you take a pen from your purse and scribble down your phone number and then, before he can ask what you're doing, you lean in and press another kiss to his cheek, this one lingering.

Bucky is wondering what your soft lips would feel like on his, but he immediately shakes the thought away, not letting himself go down that road. You pull away before he's ready and throw the pen back in your purse before looking at him again.

"Thank you again-what was your name?"

"Bucky," he replies and hates how his heart leaps when you smile.

"Bucky," you repeat and god does he love the way that sounds coming out of your mouth.

God, you're pretty, and all Bucky can think about is pulling you into his arms, kissing you until you're both gasping for air. But he doesn't. He can't. So he just lets you go, knowing that he's immediately going to scrub your number off of his hand and do what he can to remove your lip gloss from his cheek. He wants to forget this night and how good you make him feel because there is no way in hell he's going to see or hear from you again. He's going to make sure of it.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

87 notes · View notes

t1ny-untitled · 2 days ago

Text

TILL X GN!READER

「 ✦ ‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

- in this au, Till is in love(?) with the reader!yn and sang a different song in Round 2 in where he thinks you like (the aliens don't know it was someone else's song). He feels unsure of his feelings for gn!reader until he sang the song. -

- Warning; Till might be ooc(out of character) so I apologize if it is. If anything, feel free to give me some tips or things to improve this or any of my future fics, thank you! -

「 ✦ ‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

날 스치는 그대의 옅은 그 목소리

(That faint voice of yours that grazed me.)

내 이름을 한 번만 더 불러주세요

(Please call my name one more time.)

얼어버린 노을 아래 멈춰 서 있지만

(I'm standing still under the frozen light, but)

그대 향해 한 걸음씩 걸어갈래요

(I will walk towards you, step by step)

Still with you

0:01 - 0:18

Still With You - Jungkook

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ✦ 」

[Reader] has always been the person that Till admired a lot. Watching them from afar with admiration. Through his journey of learning the guitar, they were his inspiration and motivation to continue on. For him, his education, and for them.

You were his childhood best friend he never wanted to let go. You were too kind to him. To people. To everyone. He likes that about you. He couldn't even believe that he met someone so caring like you. It felt so unbelievable.

He just wishes to at least hold your hand, wipe your delicate tears when you cry, let you sleep on his shoulder for as long as you can, and talk to you for countless hours.

It breaks his tiny heart whenever he sees you with someone. He had always tried to impress you. He wanted you to be proud of him. To notice him. To care about him. He had always dreamed about that.

And this is finally the time that he can impress you. And he won't mess it up. He can't mess it up.

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

Till was now against a guy—Acorn. A short brown haired boy who is just the same age as he is. He looked at the audience with confidence. He knew he was gonna win this round. With this song he prepared. For you.

Surely, the music started to play, giving a somewhat soft but electrifying memory with his guitar. He tried to do it as softly as possible but also enough to maybe impress you.

He struck a few tabs and some chords, bringing the microphone to his mouth as he sang, giving a slightly blocked sound to impress the audience as well

"날 스치는 그대의 옅은 그 목소리."

"내 이름을 한 번만 더 불러주세요"

"얼어버린 노을 아래 멈춰 서 있지만"

"그대 향해 한 걸음씩 걸어갈래요"

"Still with you"

He sang in a soft tone before striking a slightly louder and improvised melody. The boy looked at him, not even knowing where to start singing until he continued.

"어두운 방, 조명 하나 없이. 익숙해지면 안 되는데 그게 또 익숙해"

("Dark room, no lights. I shouldn't get used to it but I'm used to it again.")

He sang, looking at the ground for a brief moment to think about all the things he had with you before when the two of you were still kids.

"나지막이 들리는 이 에어컨 소리. 이거라도 없으면 나 정말 무너질 것 같아. 함께 웃고, 함께 울고. 이 단순한 감정들이 내겐 전부였나 봐"

("This quiet sound of the air conditioner. I feel like I'd really fall apart without this. Laugh together, cry together. I guess these simple feelings were everything to me.")

A gentle smile creeped up to his face, looking up. He felt conflicted by his unknown feelings for you. And he wanted to be sure...

"언제쯤일까 다시 그댈 마주한다면? 눈을 보고 말할래요."

("When will I ever see you again? I want to look you in the eye and tell you")

"보고 싶었어요"

("I missed you")

Suddenly, he felt a switch in his heart turned on. A feeling of his heart racing as he continued on the lyrics with passion. He hasn't felt something like this until now... It felt so nice, even.

The brunette looked at him, slightly panicking as he looked at his score compared to the gray haired one. He looked back at the gray haired, seeing how he was smiling genuinely. His collar was green, showing his positivity. Or even, motivation..

He really hopes you like it...

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

"Till!"

A young child said, running towards the young boy—Till "Look what I made!" The young child said, showing him a little bouquet of flowers. You were smiling like a little kid, giving the bouquet to him. "It's for you!"

Till looked at the bouquet, feeling his cheeks burn beet red by the sudden gift. "W—why me?!" He exclaimed, looking up at you with surprise.

The young child looked at him, confused but also upset, thinking he doesn't like it "Why? Is it ugly?" You asked, looking a bit saddened as you looked down at your bouquet. He didn't like it when he saw you like that. He quickly patted your head, trying to calm you down "I—I'm just asking! I didn't say anything negative about that!" *He protested, hesitantly grabbing the bouquet and hiding it up to his chest "H—happy?!" He says, looking down at you and hoping you would be happy again

The little child looked up at him, and your face brightened. "Sing me a song" You stated, looking at him with a smile. You knew he couldn't say no... "A—ah... Hrgh..." Till grunted, feeling his face heat up and looked away, looking timid. "Fine...!" He said making you smile brightly and jumped up and down.

You sat on the floor beside him, looking at him as if waiting for him to sing. He couldn't concentrate properly on how focused you are to him but eventually, he started to sing.

"황홀했던 기억 속에"

("In the ecstatic memories")

"나 홀로 춤을 춰도 비가 내리잖아"

("Even if I dance alone, it rains")

"이 안개가 걷힐 때쯤 젖은 발로 달려갈게"

("By the time this fog clears, I'll run with wet feet")

"그때 날 안아줘"

("Hug me then")

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

He didn't even realize that he was zoning out and his opponent—Acorn was already singing while he was distracted. He felt angered to the point he slammed his guitar on the floor. He wanted it to be him he's impressing you. Not the flat haired guy.

It still made him mad despite him still winning over the brunette. Now he had just killed his alien guitar. Ahh... But all he wanted to know is if you liked it or not.

He goes back to where he was, trying to find you to see if you paid attention to his performance. He just hoped that you weren't sleeping that time since you are a heavy sleeper... But luckily, when he came back, you instantly greeted him with a soft smile and waved at him. The only thing that filled his mind is that you liked it based on your small interaction with him.

Till looks at you, his face burning and his lips curling into a nervous and awkward smile before waving back. Now he finally knows what his feelings for you are now.

He wants to stay still with you

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

#till x reader #alnst x reader #till alien stage x reader #alien stage x reader #alien stage #alnst #alnst till

60 notes · View notes

rikkiz · 2 days ago

Note

hii cici! t’s meeee :3 ‘🎀’ anon .. ♡ are you open for a request? I NEED to take this out .. since ’m ovulating 🥺, i’d love to request Riki with bulge kink and spanking the reader’s a$$ also covered the reader’s mouth as she was causing too much noise with her crying and m♡aning. he got so JEALOUS ’cause reader were too close to her male friends, Riki noticed reader’s friend holding reader’s waist, holding her hands, stroking her hair so he had to punish reader. PLEASE!🫸🏻🫷🏻 thank you so much, i hope you have an nice day ♡ and i love you, cici! :33

Jealous - Nishimura Riki

Riki had invited you to a party at Heeseung's place. He invited you. No one else. You had come with him. So, he was awfully confused and annoyed that you were not only not with him but with some guys that he didn't exactly love.

He watched your interactions with them from across the room. He seethed at the way this one particular guy was touching you. His hands hold onto your waist before moving to hold your hands or stroke your hair every once in a while. What bothered Riki the most, though, was how you just let him. You didn't try to push him away or didn't even look uncomfortable in the slightest and he hated it.

Although he couldn't exactly hate the guy for it since you weren't exactly pushing him away or telling him no and because no one really knew that he and you had a thing going on.

What was that thing? He wasn't sure. I guess it could be seen as friends with benefits but it was so much more. Riki knew you felt that way as well. That's what made him even more pissed about this whole ordeal.

As soon as that guy left your hip to go to the bathroom and you headed to go get a drink from the kitchen, Riki was grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him upstairs.

You didn't fight him off though, you just let him pull you along which was telling.

He pulled you into some guest room with him and honestly, it was surprising that no one was in here yet, hooking up. Riki shut and locked the door before letting you go, making you stumble onto the bed.

"Are you fucking serious?" Riki asked as he walked over to the bed.

You look up at him from where you lie on the bed, "What?" You meekly ask but you both knew that you weren't dumb.

Riki doesn't say anything before manhandling you so that you were now flipped over on your stomach and he spanks your butt with some force, causing you to let out a whine.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, "Come here." Riki says, his jaw clenched.

You bite your lip before going over and lying across his lap, already knowing what is going to happen. Without any warning, you feel his hand make contact with your ass over your skirt.

"Letting him touch you like that when you know you're mine." Riki scolds before landing another smack on your ass.

You can't even bring yourself to defend yourself because he was right. You were his, whether it was official or not, you both knew it, yet you were doing stuff like that.

Riki spanks you a few more times as a form of punishment for what you did out there but that's all because at this point you were crying and babbling. He didn't need anyone to know what was happening in here, not right now. Though, maybe that guy hearing it wouldn't be too bad.

Riki has you sit up from where you lay across his lap. He then instructs you to get undressed and you do as he says, you never argued much with him. Riki also gets undressed as he eyes you the whole time.

You sit back down at the edge of the bed and he comes over, standing in between your legs. He pushes you up a little bit more to make things a bit more comfortable because despite how mad he was at you, he still loved you. He spreads your legs apart before sliding inside.

Riki then starts to fuck you hard and deeply. You hold onto his biceps for support as he stabilizes himself on the mattress. All that you could hear in the room for a while was the sound of skin slapping, your pussy, and the both of your sounds of pleasure.

Riki glances down for a moment and he can see a bulge forming every time he fucks into you, making him grin.

"Look, baby." He says but you don't process his words, too lost in pleasure. "Look." He says a bit more firmly and you look into his eyes before looking down at where he looked. You both look down at the bulge that formed in your stomach as he fucked you and it made him fucking crazy.

"Fuck." He groaned out as he continued to fuck you, going a bit harder, and it wasn't long before you were cumming. He fucked you through it before he was pulling out and cumming on your thighs because he didn't want to risk anything. Not yet, anyway.

You lie back and he leans over onto you, he can feel the stickiness of his release against his hips from your thighs as he leans down but he doesn't care right now.

He leaned in and kissed your neck a little messily before pulling away and looking down at you.

"Don't pull that shit again." He firmly says and your nodding obediently.

A/N: Hi 🎀 anon! I hope you like what I did with this! Love you!! You're so sweet :)

#rikkiz #rikkiz 🎀 anon #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #nishimura riki #nishimura riki smut #nishimura riki hard thoughts #nishimura riki hard hours

134 notes · View notes

vickytaa · 1 day ago

Text

Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter I

summery: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?

"‘Hey honey, can you give me a hand with this?’ Y/n heard her mom’s voice from a distance. Seventeen-year-old Y/n had moved to Boston with her mom after her dad passed away, and they were still unpacking boxes. She’d lived her whole life in LA, but her mom had decided to start over, so they’d had to move. ‘Coming,’ Y/n replied, quickly putting her headphones back on. She wore them all the time, for reasons only she knew; she listened to all kinds of music, knew all the lyrics by heart from listening to them over and over. She loved everything from Romeo Santos to Billie Eilish, and even 2Pac or Bob Marley—basically anything.

After a couple of hours of unpacking, Y/n finally managed to grab a book from her bookshelf, ‘When the Cherry Blossoms Bloom’ by Liliana Cinetto. She climbed into her new, cold bed, turned on her bedside lamp, and put on some jazz. It had been a long day: saying goodbye to family, moving into the new house, unpacking, packing her school bag for the first day—the list went on.

Later that night, Y/n and her mom had dinner—a cold pizza—and talked about what her life would be like now that it was just the two of them. Her dad’s passing had been tragic but expected, given his terminal illness. Y/n avoided talking about him, preferring to keep her mind occupied with other things, like how her first day at a new high school would be. It was going to be tough, sure, but as long as she stayed out of trouble, passed her classes, and kept a low profile, everything would be fine. But it would be nice to have a friend, right? At her old school, she had been well-behaved and got along with everyone, but no one well enough to call a friend. It would be difficult, but she didn’t really care anymore if she made friends or not."

Y/n fell asleep with her headphones on, but her mom woke her up to say goodnight. This had happened before, so her mom simply took the headphones and set them on the nightstand. She sat down next to Y/n and looked at her for a while. Y/n was beautiful, with long, silky hair and porcelain skin, just like her dad. Her mom gently brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and kissed her forehead. She knew that Y/n was hurting inside, even more than she was, because Y/n and her dad had been inseparable.

The next morning, Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and the delicious smell of food coming from the kitchen. Her mom loved to cook, and her food was always amazing. Y/n got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, passing by the bathroom, the laundry room, the living room, the guest room, basically everywhere. "Mmm, that smells delicious," she said as she reached the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetheart. Are you ready for your first day?" her mom asked, turning around to see Y/n leaning against the doorframe. Y/n didn't react well to the question. "Yeah, can't wait to meet new people," she said sarcastically, forcing a smile. Her mom rolled her eyes and gave her a serious look. "Come on, Y/n. You're going to do great. You're smart, you're kind, and you're beautiful. Everyone will love you." Y/n chuckled and left the kitchen to get ready.

Y/n kept repeating to herself, "You're going to be fine." She put on a pair of black sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a gray sweatshirt that matched her headphones. She tied her hair up in a messy bun, leaving a few strands loose. She put on her perfume and went to the dining room, where her mom had breakfast ready.

After breakfast, Y/n grabbed her backpack and left for school. The school was close by, so she arrived on time. As she walked into the school, she noticed that there were several groups of friends, all of them seemed very close. Making friends was going to be difficult, and joining one of those groups seemed impossible.

Y/n went to her locker, put away a few things, and then headed to her first class. She preferred to stay under the radar and listen to her music. But as soon as she walked into the classroom, the teacher made her introduce herself to the class.

"Oh, Y/n, right?" Ms. Amy asked. She had a sweet voice and was wearing a long white dress. Y/n nodded, not knowing what was about to happen. "Class, please welcome our new classmate!" Ms. Amy said loudly. Y/n's face turned bright red. She had never been so embarrassed. She simply smiled at her classmates and walked to the first empty seat.

When Matt saw Y/n, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, with her flawless skin and silky hair. He noticed that her cheeks were red, and it made her even more adorable.

Matt wasn't very popular in class. He had a few friends, but not many. He was a sweet and kind boy, and he was a triplet. His brothers were Chris and Nick. Matt was the quieter of the three.

Ms. Amy started her lesson as usual, and Y/n paid attention, kind of. She had her headphones on, so she was really in her own world. Matt, on the other hand, couldn't focus on all; all he could think about was when Y/n had walked into the room. He was lost in thought until Chris snapped him back to reality. "Hey, you okay, man?" Chris asked. It was unusual for Matt to be so distracted, since he was usually pretty studious. "Yeah, sorry, I was just... thinking about the new girl," Matt replied, looking over at Chris. "Oh, now it makes sense," Chris said, rolling his eyes and playfully punching Matt on the arm. "Cut it out, I was just thinking maybe she's lonely and doesn't know anyone." Chris chuckled. "Why don't you go talk to her?" he suggested. Matt's eyes widened. "Why don't you go?" he asked. "Because you brought her up," Chris replied. "What are you guys talking about?" Nick interrupted. "Matt's got a crush on the new girl," Chris announced. Matt quickly covered Chris's mouth to shush him. "No, I'm just trying to be nice!" Nick looked at him skeptically. "Sure, you are," he said. "I'll go ask her if she wants to hang out with us," Nick offered. "Hey, what about me?" Anna asked. She had been friends with the triplets since they were little, but she was closest to Nick. "The new girl," Nick replied. "Oh, yeah, she's pretty. I get good vibes from her," Anna said. "Oh, you and your vibes," Chris teased. They all laughed except for Anna. "You know, you should really—" "Hey, quiet down back there!" Ms. Amy called out.

The boys quieted down and focused on the lesson. Y/n, oblivious to the attention she was getting, continued to draw in her notebook and tap her foot to the beat of her music.

When the other classes ended, Y/n really wanted to leave. Not having anyone to talk to was a problem she would probably have to get used to in the future, but right now she would rather be doing other things, like helping her mom finish unpacking. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't just leave school like that.

At lunchtime, Y/n had considered her options for eating alone. She could sit at a table in the cafeteria, but she knew it was impossible to find one empty. She could eat in the bathroom, but that seemed unsanitary and dramatic. She could go to the library, but she didn't know where it was and didn't want to ask for directions. Finally, she decided on the sports field. She found a spot under a tree, far enough away from the playing fields to avoid getting hit by a ball.

As she finished eating, she realized she had some time to kill before her next class. She pulled out her book and started reading. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up to see a boy and a girl standing in front of her.

"Hi, I'm Nick, and this is Anna," the boy said. "We saw you sitting here alone, and we wanted to say hi."

Y/n was surprised, but she smiled and introduced herself. They talked for a while, and Y/n realized that they were pretty cool. She was starting to feel a little less lonely. And she felt her heart fill with happiness as she talked to them, even though it was just a brief moment.

When it was time for her next class, Y/n said goodbye to Nick and Anna. As she walked away, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe making friends at her new school wouldn't be so hard after all.

At the end of the last class, Y/n headed to her locker and heard their voices. "Hey Y/n, see you tomorrow," Nick said. When Y/n turned around to reply, she realized there were more of them. "Oh, sure. I didn't know you had brothers," she said, confused. They looked identical; she only knew Nick because she had spoken to him and his clothes were the same as earlier. "We're triplets. This is Chris," he said, pointing to Chris who smiled, "And this is Matt," he pointed to Matt, who looked a little embarrassed, his red cheeks giving him away. "Hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you," she greeted them. "See you tomorrow," Y/n said, smiling at all three of them. Matt swore that if he opened his mouth, he would burst with butterflies, his heart was pounding so hard.

The walk home was short, but all Y/n could think about was Matt. She didn't know him very well yet, they hadn't really talked, so it was hard to say what he was like, but she could tell he was special. The way he looked at her with his bright smile, his blue eyes that seemed to see right through her, and the way his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink every time he looked at her, it was endearing. She knew he was going to be important, but she didn't know how."‘Hey honey, can you give me a hand with this?’ Y/n heard her mom’s voice from a distance. Seventeen-year-old Y/n had moved to Boston with her mom after her dad passed away, and they were still unpacking boxes. She’d lived her whole life in LA, but her mom had decided to start over, so they’d had to move. ‘Coming,’ Y/n replied, quickly putting her headphones back on. She wore them all the time, for reasons only she knew; she listened to all kinds of music, knew all the lyrics by heart from listening to them over and over. She loved everything from Romeo Santos to Billie Eilish, and even 2Pac or Bob Marley—basically anything.

When Matt saw Y/n, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, with her flawless skin and silky hair. He noticed that her cheeks were red, and it made her even more adorable.

Matt wasn't very popular in class. He had a few friends, but not many. He was a sweet and kind boy, and he was a triplet. His brothers were Chris and Nick. Matt was the quieter of the three.

The boys quieted down and focused on the lesson. Y/n, oblivious to the attention she was getting, continued to draw in her notebook and tap her foot to the beat of her music.

"Hi, I'm Nick, and this is Anna," the boy said. "We saw you sitting here alone, and we wanted to say hi."

When it was time for her next class, Y/n said goodbye to Nick and Anna. As she walked away, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe making friends at her new school wouldn't be so hard after all.

a/n: First chapter, what will happen on the next one?? I am very happy to do this. Love ya:))