#not to be a sob story or anything it’s just been one of those years

[iwatcheditbegin]

Honestly it would still suck it I didn’t have tix regardless. But I think what’s eating me is the fact that I didn’t even get a chance to try. I was stuck in treatment without any access to electronics when both the announcement and sale happened.

[xxsabitoxx]

How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise. 

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him. 

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into  that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you. 

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to. 

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader, angst, yandere, nsfw content

✧ warnings: obsessive yandere behavior, stalking, nsfw content, cheating, angst, creep behavior, jealousy, grabbing, sexual acts

✧ a/n: you guys wanted both the yan royalty and yan cheater so imma do both ‼️ i’ll post the royalty one later cause you guys are in for a treat

not proofread but enjoy! (ty for the love on the last post as well <3)

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

cheater bf who sleeps with your friends behind your back. it’s not like you were anything special anyway, he just tolerated you so he could get closer to some real women

cheater bf who makes you beg for the bare minimum: giving you his jacket, holding your hand during a scary movie, etc etc but does all those things for your friends with a charming smile

cheater bf who says you’re overreacting after he holds your friends hand during a scary movie instead of yours

“hey don’t be selfish, poor girl looked like she was gonna cry. what kinda friend are you?”

you miss the way his fingers trailed up her thighs halfway through the movie when you squeeze your eyes shut. terrified of the unfolding movie scene as your bf comforts another girl

cheater bf who has fucked your roommate in your dorm room bed. oh you’re asking why they look sweaty and tired? they were trying to move your bed cause she dropped something behind it ofc.

cheater bf who finally gets caught a year into your relationship after you walk in on him mid-thrust into your ‘friend’ after they both excused themselves to the bathroom during your hangout.

cheater bf who zips up his pants and runs after a sobbing you to explain but stops half way, what was there to explain anyway? you would be heartbroken yes, but he had got what he wanted didn’t he? ignoring the dull tug on his heart he returns to his dorm

ex bf who throws himself on his bed while thinking about you. finally he picks up the lingering sent of you on his bed and various items that belong to your littered across the room. little gifts to him and cards wishing him happiness. maybe you’d become more intertwined in his life than he thought

ex bf that drops your stuff at your new dorm in a cardboard box, unluckily for you, you open it at the same time and are left staring at each other. like a cat you quickly dart out, grab the box, and retreat after locking the door can’t you just look at him once?

ex bf who feels empty after your breakup, he misses your cooking, your nagging for him to take care of himself, your smiles. fuck. what was the point of being free to fuck whoever he wanted if all he could imagine was you?

ex bf who stalks your socials, irritated that you removed him from your posts and blocked him on everything. and one day when he’s on his burner stalking you, a new story pops up. it’s innocent enough, a picture of you at dinner with a small caption “dinner out”, but then he notices the masculine hand on the table across from you wearing a watch not quite made for a woman.

his blood is boiling. you’re his. his girl.

yandere cheater who scours his room for anything that reminds him of you, finally finding a shirt in the back of his closet that he didn’t find earlier. suffocating his face with the soft fabric, moaning as he sniffed the garment

yandere cheater who hurriedly ruts into his hand as he hold the fabric up to his nose, cock leaking as he fucks his hand to your scent. he cums hard, harder than he had with any of your bimbo ‘friends’

yandere cheater who finally realized what he was missing: you. he caves in and incessantly messages and calls you, showing up at your door to win back your love.

yandere cheater who grows tired, he’s always been impatient. he knows what he did was wrong, especially to an angel like you but everyone deserves a second chance right? after all you were his soulmate

yandere cheater who shows up at a cafe you’re at and sits across from you like nothing is wrong. when you get up to leave, he forces you back into the seat. whispering in your ear to not make a scene. pulling out his phone he reveals intimate pictures of you from your relationship.

“it would be a darn shame if anyone saw these hm? your poor mom would be so disappointed that her dear daughter was just passing these around”

your eyes widen and you beg him to delete them, you’ll do anything!

“just come back to me and all these will be gone”

he grins, to wide to be kind. he wouldn’t send them out anyway. your body was his alone to see. but fuck did it have a effect on you, your big eyes fill with caution.

“please there must be-“ he cuts you off.

“there’s no other way than back to me sweets”

once you shakily get up, he throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you pinned to his side as you both leave the coffee shop. your hot coffee long forgotten on the table as the chilly air hits your faces. your body further fills with despair as you pass the ally next to the shop, spotting the date you were going to meet. face bloodied and body limp against the red brick.

your ex was always far stronger than you, far stronger than anyone else you had met too. his dedication to martial arts was one of the things that had drawn you to him. but now, his vice grip on you as he guides you to his car isn’t to prove his strength to protect you. it’s to intimidate you into giving in to him

and if you didn’t, there would be consequences.

[arminsumi]

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

2k

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[23victoria]

“mi hermosa niña” ❀

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader

summary: request by @mimisainznorris!! Do you write Sainz x fem!reader fics? If you do,can ⭐please⭐ make a fic where Carlos and reader are in a happy relationship but she's lil bit insecure about her looks and Carlitos tries to help her with that. I think that would be cute🤧

warnings: insecure reader, that’s it really not too specific and some fluff

authors note: thank you for the request baby 🤧!! i hope you enjoy it!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

You’ve been with Carlos for a year and a half now, and everyone says you're one of the cutest couples on the paddock. Your relationship is the kind that other people look at and feel envious of. You’re loved by everyone, always getting compliments on how beautiful you are. But behind closed doors, things aren't always as perfect as they seem. You've always had insecurities about your body, and today, it's one of those days when those insecurities are overwhelming you.

Carlos decided to take you out for dinner tonight. It was supposed to be a fun evening, a chance for the two of you to relax and enjoy each other's company away from the noise and pressure of the paddock. But as you stand in front of the mirror in your shared apartment, all you can see are the flaws. You trace your fingers over the parts of your body that you wish you could change, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you.

Carlos walks into the room, looking handsome as always in his neatly pressed shirt and jeans. His smile fades as he sees the expression on your face. “Cariño, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

You can’t hold it in anymore. Tears start to fall as you turn to him, your voice breaking. “I just... I don’t feel pretty. I look at myself and I see everything that’s wrong. I don’t understand how someone as handsome as you could be with someone as ugly as me.”

Carlos’ eyes soften, and he steps closer, gently taking your hands in his. “Oh, mi amor,” he murmurs, his heart breaking at seeing you like this. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Every single part of you.”

You shake your head, pulling away to look back at the mirror. “You have to say that because you love me,” you whisper. “But I see the way people look at you. You could have anyone you wanted. Why would you choose me?”

Carlos turns you to face him, cupping your face in his hands. “I choose you because I love you. Not just for how you look, but for who you are. Your kindness, your strength, your laughter – they make you more beautiful than anyone else.”

“But my body...” you start, but Carlos stops you with a gentle kiss.

“Your body is perfect because it’s yours,” he says softly. “Every mark, every curve, every so-called flaw tells a story about your life. They’re beauty marks, reminders of who you are and what you’ve been through.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “When I look at you, I see the woman who stands by my side, who supports me and loves me unconditionally. I see the woman who makes me laugh, who makes every day better just by being in it. You are so much more than what you see in the mirror.”

You feel the warmth of his words start to melt the icy grip of insecurity. You cling to him, letting the tears flow freely now. Carlos holds you tighter, whispering soothing words in your ear. “You are beautiful, inside and out. And I will spend every day reminding you of that, no matter how long it takes for you to believe it.”

After a while, your sobs subside, and you pull back slightly to look at him. “Do you really mean that?” you ask, needing to hear it one more time.

Carlos smiles, brushing a tear from your cheek. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says. “You’re my everything, Y/N. And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

He kisses you again, and this time, you let yourself take him in. You can feel the love and sincerity in his touch, and it starts to drown out the negative thoughts in your mind. You’re happy to have someone like him by your side, helping you see the beauty that he sees.

⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱

Carlos keeps you close as you both head out for dinner. The restaurant is cozy and intimate, a perfect setting for the heartwarming evening ahead. You can’t help but feel lighter as you sit across from Carlos, his reassuring presence calming your nerves.

The conversation flows easily as you talk about everything and nothing. Carlos makes you laugh with stories from the paddock, and you can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly charming he is. He’s always been able to make you feel special, even on your darkest days.

As the evening progresses, Carlos reaches across the table to take your hand. “I want you to promise me something,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “Whenever you start feeling like this again, come to me. Talk to me. Let me remind you of how incredible you are.”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “I promise,” you say softly. “And thank you, Carlos. For everything.”

Carlos smiles, a look of relief and happiness washing over his face. “That’s all I need to hear, cariño,” he says. “I’m here for you, always.”

⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱

The night ends with a walk along the beach, the city lights reflecting off the water. Carlos keeps you close, his arm around your shoulders as you stroll in comfortable silence. You feel a sense of peace that you haven’t felt in a long time, and it’s all because of him.

When you finally get home, you feel lighter, more at ease. Carlos’s words echo in your mind, and for the first time in a long time, you start to believe them. He loves you, truly and deeply, for who you are. And maybe, just maybe, you can start to see yourself through his eyes.

As you lie in bed that night, wrapped in Carlos’s arms, you feel a warmth spread through your chest. Carlos whispers one last affirmation as you drift off to sleep, “You are my everything, Y/N. Never forget that.” And with those words, you close your eyes, a small smile on your lips, feeling more loved and cherished than ever before.

Bonus:

carlossainzjr

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mi hermosa niña 😍😘💋

y/n_ig awww baby!!! i love you 🥹❤️

↳ carlossainzjr @.y/n_ig i love you my beautiful girl ❤️

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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[doeidawn]

☁︎ — helping hand

kyle was always a good friend to you, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold when times got rough. maybe it was a good thing that your biggest problem as of late was a (seemingly endless) cycle of bad boyfriends. but kyle can't stand to see you upset; not when he knows just how well he can help you. 5.4k

⟢ pairing: gaz x f!reader

⟢ tags: MDNI/18+; one-time fwb turns into two-times; reference to previous sexual encounters; technically hurt/comfort—reader has shitty ex-bfs; smoking; gaz is a tease; oral sex [f receiving]; fingering; couch sex; unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it); praise; slight possessive gaz if you squint; increasingly desperate sex; handjob; semi-awkward aftercare; i do not know how to end long fics sorry it's lame

It’s been a while since you and Kyle hooked up.

Eight months, to be exact. Nearly a year. Thankfully, everything was still okay between you two. He was a close friend—a good friend—and hooking up didn’t seem to change much about that. If anything, it only improved things; there was no lingering tension simmering in the air on late nights. No more wondering how his hands and lips would feel on your skin or yearning to hear him whisper filth in your ear. And even though it seemed surreal to remember the way he felt against you, it was over after that one time.

So you moved on. Even though your body begged for more and every fantasy seemed to circle back to him, you moved on.

In fact, Kyle was nothing but supportive of moving on. He was among the first to learn every time you started talking to someone new. He cared enough to vet the guys you met whenever he could, the major downside being that his criteria of “worthy of dating you” seemed very strict. So strict that none of them ever really fulfilled it. But you always assumed it was because Kyle cared about you and wanted you safe with a guy who knew your worth. Truthfully, he was the most supportive wingman you could’ve asked for.

It was a bittersweet feeling. You had to wonder if the night you shared replayed in his head as often as your own. He was the best you ever had, no doubt about it, but you knew it wasn’t in your best interest to yearn for your best friend. But, goddamn, was his embrace a hard one to find a replacement for.

Try as he may to keep you safe and prevent any heartbreak, it was, unfortunately, inevitable. Despite all of his efforts to keep you away from guys who were so clearly just using you, he couldn’t have known you were desperate enough to fill the void that you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the promise of a warm body. It was never worth it in the end. Every time, without fail, you’d run back to Kyle to cry on his shoulder. It sucked. But he was always the greatest help.

And, as much as you hated yourself for it, that’s exactly where you found yourself again. Sat on his sofa while you blow snot into tissues and smoke through his cigarettes just to rant about your latest failure of a date. You felt no better than the subjects of whatever trashy television was playing on the screen; originally intended to laugh at for distraction, now only reminding you how pitiful you felt. 

Like always, Kyle had a reassuring hand rubbing your back, nice enough to nod along to your sputtering and curses, as nonsensical as they were. He was so nice, and it made you feel like shit whenever you came around with another sob story.

You run a hand over your puffy eyes, wiping away another stream of tears from your cheeks. “M’sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to come over n’ cause a scene.”

“You’re alright, love.” The reassurance was nice, and it felt genuine, but it didn’t necessarily change how you felt.

“No, I’m not. I’m a fuckin’ mess.” A self-deprecating laugh leaves your lips as you run another tissue over your raw and red nose. “You think I’d learn a thing or two by now.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault those guys don’t know a perfect woman when they’ve got her.”

You roll your eyes at that. “‘A perfect woman’.” The thought makes you scoff. You felt anything but perfect. “Do I look like a perfect woman right now?”

“‘Course you do.” Kyle brings his other hand close and, for a moment, you think he’s going to hold your hand. Instead, he plucks away the cigarette hanging lazily between your fingers. “Smoking’s not a good look, though.”

“They’re your cigarettes.”

“Ah, that’s neither here nor there.” He takes a puff of his own before leaning forward to stub out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table. “Never said I was perfect, did I?”

“You seem to have your shit together better than me.” You throw your tissue towards a bin Kyle had brought near the sofa once your crying had started. “I’m an idiot for not listenin’ to you.”

“Well, beatin’ yourself up over it isn’t gonna solve anythin’.”

“But it’s true. You warn me all the time about these guys. It’s either one boring date or a hookup just for…mediocre sex. At best.” Kyle scoffs at that. “And…then it’s over.”

Leaning back against the sofa, you run your hands over your face again. Frustration gnaws at you, tugging at the back of your mind and filling you with some unnamed emotion that makes everything feel bitter. It wasn’t Kyle’s fault for not knowing why you were so hard on yourself. It’s not like he knew it was him you were trying to replace.

You huff an exasperated sigh. “I’m just…frustrated. I can’t remember the last time a guy made me feel…good. Made me feel wanted.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Kyle nods his head in thought like he’s debating his inner monologue. He settles back against the sofa next to you. 

“I can.”

Two simple words and yet they make your heart feel like it’ll jump out of your chest. Choking on your breath felt preferable to meeting his gaze. 

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh, but you aren’t sure it’s because you found it funny. 

His hand finds its way to your thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through your sweatpants. “You could have that again, you know. We could have that again.” You almost hate how hopeful he sounds.

You aren’t sure what to say. It must show on your face, you figure, when you notice his smile from the corner of your eye.

It would be a total and utter lie to pretend you haven’t thought about the possibility a million times over. As if you haven’t had to remember the way his touch felt so you could get yourself off when every other man couldn’t. But every time, without fail, the nastiest guilt would purge those thoughts away, ashamed of yourself for thinking about something he never seemed to bother remembering. 

But now he was proposing to do it all over again. And you wanted to. You wanted to so badly.

“Kyle…” Your throat is dry when you finally manage to utter the words. “I thought you…I assumed it was just a one-time thing…”

“It doesn’t have t’be.”

Of course it does, you want to argue. It wasn’t fair the way his touch had you yearning for something you shouldn’t want. But the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to fight it. 

His soft voice fills the silence as his thumb brushes over your thigh. “It’s what you deserve; someone who can make you feel good. And wanted.”

“I thought you only did that because I was…frustrated.”

“Mm. And you’re frustrated now, aren’t you?” 

It’s a simple question, but his tone is dulcet and sweet like he’s trying to seduce you. Truthfully, you feared it was working. Goddamn tease.

“I…suppose you could say that.” You concede, almost fighting the smile forming on your lips.

Kyle’s hand slides off of your thigh before snaking behind you, slotting perfectly on your curves as his arm wraps around your waist. “It certainly seems that way to me.” He leans in closer and your heart leaps into your throat when the warmth of his breath hits your cheek. “I don’t mind helpin’ you out again.”

You hope he doesn’t notice how tense you are, how your lips quiver as you finally bring yourself to speak. “Are…are you serious..?”

A small laugh escapes him as he pulls you closer. His lips press small, gentle kisses on the underside of your jaw, each one sending a shiver down your spine. You can practically feel the blood pumping hurriedly through your veins. He didn’t have to say anything to tell you how serious he was.

Heat pools in your core when his other hand slides up your thigh. More insistent than the last time, his fingers rub and knead at the pliant flesh hidden beneath your clothes. Your nerves come alight, sensitive to every brush of his fingers as they move inward on your body.

You tilt your head enough to catch Kyle’s attention. Placing a hand on his cheek when his nose brushes yours, you impatiently close the gap between your mouths. It’s a gentle kiss, but there’s an undoubtable hunger in it. Almost instantly, you feel the tension leave your body, replaced by an insatiable need that gnaws at your core.

He completely bombarded your senses. His smell in your nostrils, his touch on your curves, his taste on your lips—everything about him had your head spinning. It’s too much and too little all at the same time.

The movement of your hips was an impulsive one; a plea for him to hurry up or give you more. The whine that left you was a pathetic sound that escaped your mouth and filled his.

You could feel Kyle smile against you, his grip on your waist tightening. “Christ, you’re really impatient, huh?”

“Shut up, Kyle,” you pant. He wasn’t wrong; your patience was worn thin at this point. It was almost torturous to feel so needy.

“Easy, baby,” he coos against your lips. As riled up as you were, calming down wasn’t a simple ask, but you willed yourself to listen. The way he spoke to you made your body want to obey his every command. “I know what you need.”

When his mouth meets yours for another series of hungry kisses, you could feel his hand move higher up your thigh. His touch was intentionally light, a tease to leave you wanting more. And it did. It took everything in your power to keep still when his fingertips brushed over the space between your thighs.

But you couldn’t stop yourself when his hand finally dipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. You could feel how slick and desperate you were before his fingertips brushed over your panties. He groans into your mouth when he finds the wetness seeping through the fabric, cupping your cunt to feel you squirm.

“Oh, you poor thing. You needed this so bad, didn’t you?” You can almost sense some sincerity in his tease. Almost. 

You’re moaning against his lips before you can form your own tease. Kyle’s touch grows more insistent, his fingers dragging up and down your wet panties until he starts gently circling your clit. Your nails dig into his arm, hips rocking into his makeshift rhythm. Already sensitive from being neglected, the rough and wet fabric against your clit leaves you whining and groaning pathetically under his touch.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so needy.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Your heavy eyes watch his gaze rake over your body to ogle the way your legs spread. 

“Don’t…don’t tease me, Ky…” You groan between broken breaths and gasps. Your hips roll eagerly, bucking against the steady pressure of his fingertips. “C’mon, touch me. Please.”

You don’t mean to whine when his hand slides out from underneath your clothes. “Really impatient, aren’t we?” He mutters under his breath like he hadn’t meant for you to hear him before settling his hand on your hip. “I told you, I know what you need.”

You don’t get the chance to ask him to hurry up before he’s pulling your hips along the sofa cushions, guiding your body until you’re laid out on the furniture. You trusted him—even when you weren’t ferociously horny for his touch, you trusted him—and knew he’d make the wait worth it.

His fingers hook on the hem of your sweatpants, tugging it and your panties down your outstretched legs. The cool air hits your wet flesh and sends goosebumps over your skin. Your clothes are discarded somewhere on the floor before Kyle settles between your legs, bent down and crunched on the sofa until his face is level with your cunt.

Arms wrapped around your thighs, he kisses along the soft skin, alternating sides and nipping occasionally to feel the muscle underneath tense. As impatient as you were, you watched with rapt attention as his eyes focused on your slick cunt, sensitive enough to twitch every time you felt his breath hit.

One of his hands runs over your thigh until his rough fingertips are spreading you open. He smiles, smirking as if proud of himself. “You missed me, huh?”

You didn’t know if that was a comment on your impatience or how wet you were. Maybe both. “Maybe…just a li’l…” You pant, shivering when his warm breath ghosts over your clit as he laughs.

“Oh, I know you did. You’re fuckin’ dripping, love.”

Kyle’s eyes meet yours before his head dips down and his tongue sticks out to lick a slow stripe up your slit. The wet friction takes your breath away, nails digging into the cushion beneath you to ground yourself. His tongue spreads you apart, lapping at your arousal and gliding over your most sensitive parts.

“You taste just as good as I remember.” His words are muffled against your cunt, almost immediately drowned out by his wet slurps and your moans.

The flat of his tongue circles around your clit before gently sucking it into his mouth. The pressure already has your legs twitching and tensing, shockwaves of pleasure shooting through every nerve. He guides one of your legs up, propped against the back cushion of the sofa, before running his hand down your thigh. 

Fingertips gently caress your cunt, gliding through the mess of your arousal and his saliva, teasing and circling your hole. Two thick digits push inside and the sudden stretch has your hands flying towards Kyle, fingers digging into his short curls, desperate for some part of him to hold on to.

It’s been far too long since you felt this good. Eight months too long. The attention was almost unfamiliar; something overwhelmingly delicious that only he seemed to give you. The way he sucks on your clit while his fingers pump and curl just right makes your head fall back against the armrest. You can feel yourself squeezing his fingers and throbbing against his tongue, that ache in the pit of your stomach already beginning to form.

Kyle groans before sliding his mouth off of you. “Easy, baby. Fuck, you’re grippin’ so tight…” A gentle kiss lands on the inside of your thigh as his fingers curl again. “None of your li’l boyfriends touched you like this, did they?”

If you were any more coherent, you might have said something about how jealous he sounded. But that wasn’t the point right now; right now all you were focused on was how deep his fingers hit, and how right he was.

You shake your head. “No…not like this. Not this good,” you manage to admit between moans.

“Not this good,” he echoes, proudly whispering to himself, before his head dips down again.

His lips latch around your clit again, suckling and running his tongue over it until your hips start to buck. The sounds are disgustingly lewd; wet squelches with every thrust of his fingers, the sloppy sounds of his mouth, and your wanton moans—it’s everything you’d been fantasizing about since the last time he had you. 

Your eyes flutter open as you lift your head off of the armrest. Seeing Kyle, barely fitting himself on the sofa just to ravage you, makes you tighten around his fingers. “Holy shit, Ky. I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum,” you warn, panting breathlessly. Your toes curl, thighs tensing at the mounting heat in your core.

“Already? Oh, that’s a good girl,” he growls against your cunt. “Cum f’me. C’mon, show me how much you missed me.”

The hunger in his eyes makes you shudder. You were already close to the edge, but with his encouragement, you completely fell apart. With another swirl of his tongue and a harsh thrust of his fingers, your body goes taut with pleasure. The ecstasy that you’ve denied yourself for far too long shoots through your veins until your thighs are shaking.

Kyle hums contentedly at the tightness surrounding his fingers before easing them out. He quickly replaces the emptiness with his tongue, spreading you apart and lapping at your slick cum. He doesn’t pull back until you start to whine. With heavy eyes and a heaving chest, you watch him settle back on his knees, noting the way his lips and chin glisten. 

That unmistakable hunger—desire and determination mixed—is still clear as day in his eyes. He leans over you, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, and the taste and smell of yourself floods your senses. You reach out for him, twisting your fingers into his shirt to keep him close.

He groans into your mouth, the mess of tongue and teeth complimented by the sound. His hands find your waist, pushing your shirt up and sliding under layers until he can paw at your chest. You almost whine when one of his hands moves off of you until you hear the metallic jangle of his belt buckle coming undone.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you and your eyes immediately dart to his hand to watch him impatiently tug down his pants. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen his cock, but seeing it now—thick and heavy and warm as it brushes against your skin—makes all the memories from the first time flood your mind. And knowing how good he made you feel before only made you that much more eager.

Kyle wraps a hand around himself, giving his cock a few firm pumps before guiding it towards your wet slit. The head of his cock spreads your cunt and brushes against your sensitive clit with each roll of his hips. You can hear how wet you are, how you coat him in your slick with every movement, and you shudder when he groans.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re needy,” he sighs. His hand, still kneading your chest under your shirt, slides down to grip your waist firmly. “God, I could look at you like this all day.”

“C’mon…Don’t make me beg.” You coo, trying to coax him as your legs hook over his hips.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.”

“Kyle.”

“You had no problem waitin’ eight months. You can wait a bit longer, right?”

“I swear to God, Kyle, just fuck me—”

Your own shaky moan interrupts your speech, ripped from your throat as Kyle suddenly pushes the head of his cock past your entrance. He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on the side of your parted lips.

“Gotta work on your patience, love.”

You can feel every inch as he slowly eases his thick cock into you. With nails digging into the sofa cushions to ground you amidst the delicious stretch, both of you moan when he finally bottoms out. He stills long enough for you to feel the way your slick walls flutter around him.

Thumbs press gently into the dip of your hips in a reassuring squeeze. “You alright?” He asks, scanning your face for approval. A pathetic nod and an ‘uh-huh’ that sounds more like a whimper escapes your lips. “Nearly forgot how perfect you feel.”

Kyle leans back on his knees, straightening up with a devilish smirk and an even hungrier look in his eye. His pace is slow when he finally begins to rock his hips back and forth. He watches your body intently; ogling at the way your cunt swallows every inch of him, savoring the way you mold around him, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort. 

You moan on every downstroke as he fills you with every slow thrust, the head of his cock pushing just right against that sweet spot deep inside. Still so slick and sensitive from your recent orgasm, every nerve feels alight—addicted to the fullness and the way his cock twitches inside you. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine as your hands search him out, desperate to be even closer. You can feel his muscles tense when your hands run up his arms and hold onto him tightly. “God, you fill me so good…so fuckin’ deep.”

Kyle makes a sound at that, something between a laugh and a groan. “I know, baby,” he coos softly, encouraging your touch when he leans back to pull his shirt off over his head.

There’s no hiding the way you tighten around him when you see his bare skin. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, but something about watching his muscles tense with every push of his hips made your head spin. He leans closer, just enough for you to reach your hands out and splay your fingers over his chest.

“I needed you so fucking badly.” The confession tumbles from your lips without thought, forced out alongside a moan that proves how true it was. “You make me feel so good. I never—shit—never should’ve looked for someone else.”

His jaw goes tight, a low grunt in the back of his throat his only reply to your admission. His gaze drops from your face to watch where his hips meet yours, but judging by the way his chest rises with heavier, deeper breaths, you aren’t so sure it’s because he’s uncomfortable. 

He’s holding back. 

The thought sends a shiver down your spine and your hips buck in his direction on the next agonizingly slow thrust. “I missed you so much, Kyle.” It wasn’t a lie—your body’s reaction to him was more than enough proof of that—but you wanted to see him let go, to stop being so gentle and kind like he always was. “C’mon, fuck me like you missed me too.”

That does the trick.

Kyle mutters a swear under his breath as his hands move to grab the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs towards your chest. Your hands fall to the sofa cushion at the sudden change in position. His hips slam against yours, one foot planted on the floor so he has complete control as he drives his cock all the way within you. There’s no more finesse, no more charm—just pure need.

Hearing the way you yelp and whine at his newfound desperation makes him curse under his breath again. “I missed you…so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, the words coming out as more of a growl. “Christ, I needed this. Been needin’ you all this time. I couldn’t stop…thinkin’ about you.”

That confession makes your head swim—you wonder if this is how he felt hearing your own admission of missing him. You’d thought about the last encounter countless times, but you never would’ve thought it meant as much to him as it did. The way he pounded into you now made you convinced that he craved this just as badly as you did.

“Yeah?” You whine, smiling pathetically at him. “Oh, God, me too. I needed this, needed you.”

When his eyes meet yours, you see nothing but determination behind his gaze, feral and hungry and needy. His hands dig into the plump skin of your thighs as he holds your legs in place. “Did you think of me when they fucked you? Huh? Did you have to think about my hands? My cock?”

All you can do is nod, frantic and hurried, as a pathetic “uh-huh” is forced from your lungs. Heat pools at the bottom of your stomach, tugging at your sensitive insides with every quick punch of his cock deep inside.

Kyle groans, a deep, guttural sound that makes your slick walls flutter around him. “Yeah, they didn’t make you feel this good, did they? No one can make you feel like I do. No one fills this pretty pussy like I do, huh?”

You can’t even form a proper response, your mind blanking. Your eyes roll back, head lying against the armrest, every muscle so tense yet malleable to his will. Your lack of a response was enough proof he was right; no one else stretched and filled you the way he did. 

You hear him curse again before he speaks through gritted teeth. “I would’ve given you this…any-fucking-time you wanted it. Whenever you needed me.”

Finally releasing the sofa cushion, your hands seek out the warmth of his skin, fingers curling against his arms. You could feel yourself tensing, your cunt hugging every inch of him as he slid in and out. “Ky, I’m…I’m gonna c-cum again—fuck.”

You could almost feel his stare boring through you when his grip tightens on the skin of your thighs. “That’s it, gimme one more. C’mon,” Kyle groans through his encouragement, “I’ve waited eight goddamn months. I need to feel you cum on my cock again.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pathetic moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. It was all wanton and needy—involuntary sounds pushed out of your lungs with every deep, rough thrust. The squelching of your cunt welcoming his cock fills your ears, his skin hitting yours with a satisfying slap each time.

“Let me hear you,” he coaxes, almost desperate. “I know you’re close, baby, you’re gettin’ so tight.”

It didn’t take his encouragement for another set of choked moans to slip past your lips. It was harder and harder to hold back, to fight off the mounting pressure in your core. “Fuck, Kyle, s’too much…”

“S’alright, I got you. Just cum one more time f’me, baby. Just one more.”

Maybe it was his encouragement, maybe it was the possessiveness underlying his tone, maybe it was the way his cock hit so perfectly deep, maybe it was because he was the first guy to make you feel good in months. Whatever the reason was, when you came for the second time, you felt that pleasure in every inch of your body.

Every muscle tenses, taut with pleasure as waves of ecstasy flow through you, flooding every nerve. Your nails dig into his skin and your toes curl until you’re left shaking. Your cunt hugs every inch of him, pulsing and milking him for all that he’s worth as he slowly fucks you through the high with stuttered thrusts.

“That’s it, there you go,” you hear him pant at one point. “Keep going, baby, give it to me.”

Kyle’s own sounds are barely audible as your moans fill the air, but he curses and groans as he watches your body tense and throb and twitch. The obscenely lewd sound of your squelching cunt is even more obvious now with the slick cum coating his cock. 

Just as the last tremors of your orgasm start to fade, he pulls out hastily with a groan. He releases your legs from his grip, and the ache you know you’ll feel soon is pushed to the back of your mind when he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, at your flushed sweaty skin, to watch you pant and barely have the energy to look back up at him. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Planting another kiss on your lips, you can feel Kyle shift to wrap a hand around himself. Stroking himself steadily between your legs, his breathing grows heavier between each kiss, the wet sound of his cock covered in your cum sliding against his palm hitting your ears. It’s not until you reach down into the space between your bodies that he stops.

You don’t stop kissing him as you nudge his hand off of his cock to replace his rough, calloused touch with your much softer one. He grunts almost immediately, hips bucking into your hand as it wraps snugly around him. You try to mimic the pace he had set, pumping the length of his cock, the slick of your cum making the movement fluid and easy. 

“Fuck, just like that…” His hands reach past you to grab the cushion beneath your body. You catch a glance of him, watching his eyebrows knit tight on his forehead, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

His breath hits your skin, warm and heavy, sending a shiver down your spine as he moans and grunts. His hips stutter as he bucks into your hand a final time, cock twitching as his cum hits your stomach. Your hand works out every drop until he's wincing and pulling his hips away. 

There are a few beats of silence, the only sound being the two sets of heavy breaths as you both come down from a much-needed high. Though your senses start to come back and your body grounds itself against the sofa cushions and his skin, it still doesn’t feel real somehow. But despite being an unbelievable act, you don’t feel any regret this time. 

Kyle’s the first one to move, eventually pulling back enough to look down at you. “Feel better?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Even through heavy eyes, you can’t miss the way he smiles. He sits back on his knees to tuck his softening cock back into his pants and you watch as his eyes study the mess on your stomach before you look at it yourself. Just the sight of his cum pooling on your skin sends warmth directly to your core. He leans over to the table, grabbing what few tissues were left after your earlier crying spells, to clean the mess he’d left on you.

Nothing but silence for a moment as Kyle carefully runs the tissue over your stomach as you bask in the afterglow. It’s all the reassurance about him that you need. There’s an unspoken desire in the warmth of his eyes, in the way he looks at you and caresses your skin like you’re worthy of worship. The way he makes you feel—wanted—has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You eventually break the silence with a sigh. “Thank you, Kyle. I…I do feel better. A lot better.”

“Good. That’s good.” He only looks up to throw the soiled tissues in the bin next to the sofa. “Sorry for, uh…Y’know, makin’ you a mess.” He gestures to the lower half of your body with a shrug.

You raise an eyebrow at that. “Wasn’t that your intention?”

That makes him smile. A shy, almost nervous smile that you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear. “You got me.” One last swipe of the soft tissue against your skin to ensure you’re clean. “At least I’m cleanin’ you up afterward.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just a proper gentleman?”

Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, I bet those other blokes never bothered.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you roll your eyes at his sentiment. “That’s because those blokes never bothered to make me cum in the first place.” You have to smile at him, at the way he cringes at himself for bringing up your previous partners. “If you want reassurance, you’ve got it. They’ve got nothin’ on you, Garrick.”

“I know, I know. I jus’ like to hear you say it.” Kyle leans down, meeting you halfway for a kiss that’s much softer yet holds the weight of the world behind. His hands skirt over your hips before trailing up your naked skin and resting on your waist. “You need a proper wash. C’mon.”

The ache in your muscles starts to set in as the bliss slowly fades. You groan at the stiffness in your knees when he pulls you up with him to stand on your feet. There’s sweat drying on your back, a familiar stickiness between your legs, and your feet feel unsteady.

But Kyle wraps an arm around you to keep you from stumbling and wobbling on your way to the restroom. His fingertips glided over your skin, tracing curves and dips with reverent ease. He held you like you were porcelain, even after you were in the water. 

Many things could be said about Kyle. Most of them circled back to his generosity, his willingness to help, even when you felt like an unwanted burden. But he gave you everything you could ever want. And maybe one day you’ll realize it’s because he needs your helping hands just as much as you need his. 

[miley1442111]

reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.

warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

2k+ words

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When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek. 

When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything. 

When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces. 

When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship. 

When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance. 

He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again. 

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Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?

Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.

“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field. 

“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. 

“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Just an old friend, thanks!” 

And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand. 

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“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie. 

“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you. 

“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug. 

“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”

“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”

Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid. 

Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving. 

“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked. 

“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled. 

“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.

“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’

Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then. 

“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”

That satisfied them, and they stopped asking. 

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The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.

When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’

God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan. 

Step One: Start dating Rafe

Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher! 

Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning. 

Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family. 

Step Five: Die happy. 

Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13. 

You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.

“Bun! You’re back!”

Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.

“Hey Topper,” you smiled. 

“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”

“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?

“Rafe is high?”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”

“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs. 

“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated. 

“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table. 

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group. 

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke. 

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes. 

The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues. 

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“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you. 

Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind. 

“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else. 

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.” 

His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good. 

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him. 

The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.

“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”

“Until what?” Ryan chuckled. 

Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by. 

Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again. 

People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[propertyofemilyprentiss]

Evermore (part 1)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Category: Heavy angst

Summary: After Emily’s death, everything comes falling apart, losing yourself into your old habits. Little did you know that you were secretly talking to her the whole time.

TWs: active self-harm, blood, mentions of suicidal ideation, intrusive thoughts. please do not read it if you’re in a bad place. my dms are always open for anyone.

Word count: 7K

“And I couldn`t be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for

Evermore”

Your whole world turned upside down with those seven words that came out of JJ’s mouth.

“She never made it off the table”

From that moment, it didn't take more than five seconds for the first stage of grief to settle: denial.

No no no no no no no no. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't…this couldn't be happening. This was NOT how your story was supposed to end. This can’t be it, right? God please make her come back, please…

Your ears started ringing, and you could’ve sworn that your heart stopped too, blood running cold in an instant. With the biggest pain in your chest that you’ve ever felt in your entire life, you got up from that hospital chair without saying a word, going in JJ’s direction.

You needed to see her. You had to see her. This couldn’t be happening.

”I…I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye”, you heard Spencer from behind, and it broke the last piece of strength that you had left.

You didn’t get to say goodbye either.

”JJ, I need to see her”, you heavily let out, like someone was pushing rocks onto your chest so hard that you could barely breathe.

“y/n”, she stopped you in front of her, pulling you into a hug.

”JJ please”, you sobbed in her arms, almost not being able to stand up.

“It’s going to be okay”, she repeatedly whispered into your ear.

And if you would’ve had it in yourself at that moment, you would’ve screamed how it’s never going to be okay.

How could it ever be okay living without the love of your life?

“Let your last memory of her be a good one, y/n. Please. She’d want it to be this way”, she told you.

And you broke down right in the middle of the waiting room, your legs giving out any remaining shred of strength. You wailed and cried and yelled and begged for Emily to come back to you, hoping that she would come right through those doors.

But she didn’t.

This couldn’t be happening.

—

In those almost four years that you’ve been dating, Emily’s apartment was your home more than yours ever was. You had everything there - your toiletries, clothes, CDs - you could say that you were actually living there, even though there wasn’t anything “official”.

But now, standing there in the middle of the hallway, alone, you couldn't stop the new wave of tears coming from your eyes.

This place has never felt so wrong.

I want to go home.

Your soul ached intensely at the thought - you’re never going to be home again. Looking around, you barely recognized the place, even though nothing was out of its place. It was just…wrong.

It was so quiet.

Slowly, your body made its way to the bedroom by itself and you crashed into the mattress, not even caring that you’ve been wearing the same clothes the whole day.

You painfully looked at Emily’s side of the bed, and it only made you cry harder. You couldn’t fathom the fact that you were never going to have her by your side ever again - you still hoped that this was the biggest nightmare you’ve ever experienced and that you’re going to wake up soon to her being alive and well, right there next to you.

”Come back Emily, please come back”, you sobbed into your pillow, “I can’t do this without you”.

—

When you thought you couldn’t feel worse, you quickly realized that you can - and you will.

Because nobody prepares you for burying the love of your life.

The only thing that stopped you from breaking down crying was that you wanted to put on a brave face for Emily, to be able to say a few last words to her before she would forever disappear into the ground.

With a trembling hand, you placed the white rose on her casket, fighting back the tears that were slowly appearing. You were the last one to do it, but that little extra time didn’t make you feel even remotely more prepared.

With your vision already blurry, you made your way to the speaker.

How were you supposed to tell goodbye to the person you love the most?

”I…uhm, hi”, you sniffled, trying to compose yourself, “as you all know me, I’ll skip the introduction. I am not standing in front of you today just to remind you that I am…was Emily's girlfriend, but to say that it was the most beautiful experience of my life to be able to know her…to really know her. To speak of her is to speak of warmth and kindness, of laughter that could light up even the darkest rooms. She was not just my girlfriend, but my best friend, the person who could easily shove away all my fears, who always listened to my stupid ramblings and was my biggest supporter. Her presence was a blessing to all of us, and her absence leaves a void that cannot be filled”, you felt the pain of your words hitting your chest, wishing nothing more but to be able to fill that unrepairable void.

“From the moment we met, which was three years and seven months ago, we were inseparable. Like two pieces of a puzzle - as cheesy as it sounds”, you brought your left hand to your eyes, trying to wipe away the tears.

”She loved those cheesy comments so much, even though she would never admit it”, you chuckled humorlessly, and everyone else did the same, “But Emily’s love didn’t stop at me. She loved you, all of you, so much”, you almost whispered the last words while looking at the team, “and that day we did everything we could to save her, it just wasn’t…wasn’t”…enough, you wanted to say but refrained.

“My love”, you looked at the casket in front of you, “I wish I knew that the last day I saw you would be the last. I would’ve listened to you speak for longer, I would've looked at you longer, I would’ve sat closer to you. And I wouldn’t have left you alone, despite how desperately you’ve asked me to. But you’ve always been so selfless, I can’t be mad at you, not even this time”, you looked at the sky, one more attempt to keep the tears at bay, “I hope you’re happy up there. I love you so much. Forever and always, I won’t stop loving you”.

Everyone was full-on crying by the time you finished your speech, and now that you were done, you finally let go too. You sobbed in JJ’s arms - just like you did at the hospital - wishing that you would wake up in the right arms instead.

—

“Can’t remember

What I used to fight for”

They say time heals everything, but it didn’t seem to work for you - each night, you were dreaming of her, and each morning was bringing you back to the cruel reality of your lost lover.

It was mentally draining you, and you were starting to wish to never wake up - to not have this huge pause when you were somehow supposed to live your life - and to be able to constantly see her.

Everybody was back to work already, of course, serial killers don’t take breaks because of your heartbreak, but you couldn’t. They kept visiting and checking up on you, but eventually their lives went on. Yours didn’t. Your life has stopped from the moment JJ stepped into that waiting room with that look on her face which told you everything.

You just couldn’t.

How were you supposed to function like a proper human being when you had so much pain within yourself that you couldn’t even get out of bed?

How were you supposed to go back to work without her by your side, and still be able to focus on the cases instead of her heavy absence?

You just couldn’t.

“Where am I to store all this heartache?”, you wondered, looking aimlessly around the room.

You just wanted to go home.

You didn’t know what time it was - you didn’t bother to charge your phone. Which you probably shouldn’t have done, considering the frantic knocks on your door that you got later that day.

Ignoring the pain in your body from not moving almost the whole day, you’ve made your way to the door, not bothering to check who it was.

It wasn’t going to be the right person either way.

”JJ? What are you doing here?”, you asked, rubbing your eyes from the intensity change of the light coming from the hallway.

”We just finished a case and I thought of bringing you something to eat”, she cautiously responded, looking with a worried expression at you - you were clearly not taking care of yourself.

She didn’t want to ask when was the last time you ate. She felt awful, failing at the one promise she told Emily before she left - that she would take care of you in her absence.

”Thanks”, you weakly told her, not looking inside the bag - the mere thought of food made you sick, “I appreciate it, but you know you don’t have to take care of me”.

”I know, y/n, but I know how hard it-“

”You can’t possibly know how hard it is for me, JJ”, you muttered, your temper running short, “whatever you might think, it’s at least one hundred times worse. Look, I appreciate the gesture, but please leave. I don’t want you here”.

You watched the pained look on her face as she defeatedly nodded, “I’m sorry”.

”Sorry won’t bring her back”, your tears quickly resurfaced.

You couldn’t control yourself, letting them flow as you heard the apartment’s door opening and then closing, self-hatred coursing through your veins.

You’ve pushed away the one person who was constantly there for you, who actually cared.

—

“I rewind the tape but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost”

“Emily, no! Stay awake baby, open those beautiful eyes for me”, you panicked, trying to keep her awake as long as possible.

The sound of the sirens could easily be heard in the background, but why weren’t they getting closer?

Why aren’t they getting closer !?

“Emily, come on”, you sobbed, trying anything in your power to make her look at you for a little while longer, “you can’t die on me. You promised we’d be together forever”.

You could see the defeated look in her eyes, already accepting her fate.

No no no no no! Emily never gives up.

“Please don’t leave me”, you held her close, your own clothes soaking in her blood, “I love you”.

Suddenly, dozens of paramedics started to show up, but instead of saving Emily, they just stared at you, not moving an inch from the ambulances.

“What…what are you doing?! Help her! Please, I’m begging you!”, you weakly screamed, watching them as they stared at you.

“I love you”, you suddenly heard coming from Emily, then you felt her whole body going limp in your arms.

“No no no no, Emily! Wake up baby, please wake up!”, you desperately cried for her, but you got nothing in response.

Only then, a pair of paramedics approached you, taking her away and leaving you in the pool of her blood. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t fight, you just watched as the love of your life slowly disappeared from your vision.

“Emily!”, you screamed, waking up in your sweat instead of the blood, but you could swear that you were still able to smell it.

You brought your hands to your chest, trying to take deep breaths - this was not your usual nightmare with her, it was much worse. It was a sick, twisted way of your brain giving you what you haven’t actually experienced - being next to her in her last moments.

Every single night you had this constant nightmare of her death, your mind trying to imagine how it would’ve been like to be in Derek’s place that day, and you couldn’t make it stop.

You stared at the empty side of the bed, wishing nothing more than to be able to be held in your girlfriend’s arms again, telling you that everything is okay and that it was just a nightmare. And that she was right there and you had nothing to be afraid of.

But she wasn’t there. She will never be there again.

Oh, what you would give for it to have been a simple nightmare.

Suddenly, you started to panic.

“She will never be there again”, your mind couldn’t wrap around that thought.

“You will be all alone, forever”

“Maybe that’s for the better, you never deserved her”

“You’re so pathetic, being so dependent on a person. She’s finally free from dealing with you. It’s for the better”

“Stop”, you gritted your teeth, trying to make your mind go quiet, “please stop”.

But you already knew you were going to lose. The only times you didn’t, Emily was by your side. Dread filled your body, knowing well what you were capable of.

“I bet she would’ve left either way if she saw you right now. So weak. So worthless”.

“Just give up already”, you already knew where this was going, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t know why a part of you still fought that thought. Maybe it was the years of progress in which you managed not to relapse, even though you had a few close calls. Maybe it was for your own sanity, knowing that once you restart that path, there’s no going back up to the surface.

Before, Emily was with you during the bad days, turning off those awful voices simply with her presence, holding you close and letting you dry your tears on her shirt while telling you that everything was going to be okay.

Now all that was left were the shirts.

“Come on, you know you want to do it. Just one cut, it hardly counts”.

Without noticing, you were already on your way to the bathroom, even though there was a part of you screaming to go back, to not give in. But you were so exhausted, physically and mentally, that it was your only escape from your thoughts - even if temporarily.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, barely recognising yourself - you had extreme dark circles under your eyes, your hair hadn’t been brushed in days and it wasn’t hard to guess that your teeth had a more intense shade of yellow.

You were disgusted with yourself.

“You look like a monster. You’re lucky Emily won’t be able to see you like this. She would feel repulsed by your appearance”, your mind continued, and your silhouette started to become blurry as tears formed in your eyes for the millionth time.

“I can’t believe she ever loved you”

“Stop!”, you screamed, frantically searching through the cabinets for the razor blade, knowing it was your only option.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you laid your eyes on it, picking it up with your shaky hand.

“One cut, it hardly counts”, you told yourself as you lifted your sleeves, revealing your old, long healed scars.

Pressing it hard against your skin, you slided it on your forearm, taking in the pain that came through. You carefully looked at the droplets of blood that were appearing, watching as they went down on your arm, feeling like you were in a trance.

Suddenly, the slight pain that you were feeling gave you the urge to do more - this wasn’t enough.

The worst part? The too familiar relief that crept through your body made you realize that you were playing a losing game. It was only a matter of time until you would utterly and irreversibly destroy yourself. And you had no desire to change the ending at this point.

You put the razor blade against your skin again, repeating the same process. Again and again, spiraling out of control, until your vision became blurry from tears, and the pain was becoming ineffective to your mind.

Blinking for a few times, only now you’ve realized how much you fucked up. Panic immediately settled in.

“Fuck. Oh my god. Shit. What…what did I do?”

Turning on the water, you started to clean the blood off your arm, your heart rate rising again as you watched it going down the drain. Just like your six years of sobriety.

Turning it off, you quickly found the first aid kit, your hands trembling as they opened it. Clearing the cuts was definitely the worst part - you certainly didn’t miss the sting. Not that it even mattered right now.

You hissed at the burning sensation that only increased as you continued to sanitize them, then you rapidly put a bandage on, covering your whole upper forearm.

You sighed - the effect was already gone, but that was when exhaustion hit. Never looking once behind at the mess you left, you made your way to the bedroom, climbing under the blanket.

Only then you acknowledged the occasional twinges of pain that came from your arm. The lump in your throat intensified with the immense shame and guilt that you soon felt, your soul shattering into pieces that could be put together only by one person.

“What have I done?”

“I’m so sorry, my love. I failed you”, you spoke to the still empty side of the bed, wishing that you would be strong enough to pull through this.

—

Your days started to achieve a comfortable pattern as they went on - you could actually function during the day now that you had a solid distraction - and when the sun would settle down, you would find your stability in self-destruction, in the prolonged sadness that you continued to seek, not knowing any different.

You gradually started to do the simple tasks that any normal person wouldn’t think twice about - getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, your hair - and you started doing the groceries on your own, still being the only times you went outside. But it was progress nonetheless, even though you knew deep down that it was a well-built façade for the people around you, the truth being covered underneath your sleeves.

It was going so well - or so you thought.

But everything changed one day when JJ asked you to look after Henry - you didn’t hesitate to say yes, figuring it would be a good distraction from your own mind - and that kid was so full of love, it almost made you think that maybe…maybe life wasn’t that bad.

So, you quickly asked Penelope to pass by and feed Sergio later that day, managing a small smile at her excitement - she loves that cat as much as you do. You dressed with the first decent outfit that came into your mind and drove in a hurry.

You did everything right - made his favorite meal, played together with his little car toys, brought him to the park, letting him guide you through his world with the biggest smile across his face.

And for the first time in almost three months, you actually, genuinely smiled.

When it was his bedtime, you read his favorite story, tucking him in and telling him how much auntie y/n and his parents love him.

He smiled again, but then a frown sprawled across his little face.

”What’s the matter, buddy?”, you asked, your voice filled with concern.

”Don’t wan’ you huwt”, he pouted, looking down at your covered arms.

Oh. Oh no. Did he see your bandages?

“I’m not hurt…I’m okay”, you sigh, trying to find a good enough explanation, “You know how your mommy fights bad guys?”.

He nods, silently watching you with his big eyes.

”Well, I’m fighting my bad guys too”, you smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “But it’s nothing for you to be worried about, okay?”.

”Are they bad bad?”, he worriedly asked.

”Nothing I can’t handle, buddy”, you kiss his forehead, brushing his hair with your fingers, “Now go to sleep, my little superhero”.

He grinned, giving you one last hug after you closed the lights and exited his bedroom.

You exhaled sharply as you laid on the couch, dozens of thoughts already running through your head. It was only a matter of time until JJ would come to you asking questions and you couldn’t find one lie that would sound good enough.

You called her at some point, telling her that everything was okay and that Henry was already sleeping, and she thanked you probably for the millionth time that day.

There was that feeling in your chest back - the guilt. But you kept your voice steady throughout the whole conversation, only letting the tears out once you threw your phone somewhere on the couch.

You couldn’t even point out the exact reason why you were crying, but over the past few months you lost your control over it, not being able to shut down and stop the tears anymore. You were surprised that you even had tears left to cry.

You were so tired, but sleeping was not a possibility today, not when you weren’t alone in your apartment so that you could easily fall apart. You had to keep yourself together until the next day.

You had to stay awake so you wouldn’t have to see Emily in your dreams, only to lose her all over again the moment you would wake up.

So you went to the kitchen and poured some coffee in a mug, making yourself comfortable on the couch again as you tried searching for a decent channel on the TV.

“It’s going to be a long night”, you muttered to yourself.

You lost the battle with your eyelids around 7am, but it didn’t take more than two hours until Henry woke you up, demanding pancakes for breakfast.

It also wasn’t long until both JJ and Will arrived home, thanking you again for watching over their son, and you tiredly smiled at them.

You knew the dark circles under your eyes were obvious, so you sighed in relief when no-one commented on them. Though JJ did offer to drive you back to your apartment, you quickly said that she should enjoy her time home with her family and that you’ll be okay.

And you left before she could fight you on this.

—

“Writing letters

Addressed to the fire”

Home - you still couldn’t call it that way, but there wasn’t a better word out there for it.

As soon as you arrived, you could feel the exhaustion hit, mixed with the relief of not having to hide yourself from anyone here. You were alone again, but you’ve started to accept that this is how the rest of your life’s going to be.

Alone.

Going back into the room you’ve spent most of your time in, you crawled into bed and scrunched your face at the light that was coming through the window. You tried pulling the blanket over your head, but it wasn’t enough to shut out the light. So, in one final attempt, you buried your head under the darkness of the pillow, pretending that it was night.

Smiling to yourself, you could feel yourself falling asleep - and you were ready to see Emily again.

—

Same nightmare, same way of waking up in your sweat, your cheeks wet from tears that you didn’t acknowledge at first. You could recall it perfectly at this point, your whole body aching from suffering - you wanted nothing more than to be able to make it stop, but at the same time, you knew if you had the choice - you wouldn’t get rid of them.

Because if you stop seeing the love of your life, even in your nightmares, then it would make it too real. It would mean that you really were alone.

And you couldn’t walk through your life without Emily by your side - it was just wrong. Foolishly, a part of you was still waiting for her to come back, a part of you was still searching for her in the first seconds of your body waking up, unable to grasp the fact that she would never be there.

Would this torment be all you were going to feel for the rest of your life?

No, it was becoming too much again.

Shaking your head, you reached for your phone, being met with a few missed calls and messages…all from JJ.

“y/n, i’m coming over to check if you’re okay”, was the last message she sent you, which was over twenty minutes ago.

Great, just great.

You had no energy to get up, to try to look less messy after sleeping for who knows how long, or to pretend that you’re okay.

It was so exhausting putting on a brave face every time you talked to someone, pretending that your smile is genuine or that your arms weren’t intensively itching underneath those long sleeves.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the doorbell, suddenly starting to work on autopilot as you got up from the bed and went to the door, letting JJ in.

—

“I’m worried about you, y/n”, she sighed, looking across the room to where you were standing, “and I really think you should talk to someone about everything”.

It felt like a punch in the gut - Emily used to be that person. The one who you would tell all your fears, your struggles, your pain and she would listen to you, hold you, her soft touch dissipating every negative feeling that came in your way.

No, you couldn’t replace her.

“I don’t want to!”, you said defensively, “and I don’t need to. I’m okay”.

“Liar”, you could hear a voice inside your head.

She continued looking at you, her words full of concern.

“Henry told me about the bad guys…and he pointed out that your arms looked weird?”, she sighed, almost being scared of not phrasing her words correctly, “y/n, I’m here for you, okay? I don’t want to lose you too”, she felt like such a hypocrite to say that.

But it seemed to get to you.

Your stomach dropped.

“I just…”, you felt your eyes filling with tears, “I don’t want a therapist, JJ. I want my Emily back. Nobody else can fix what’s inside of me right now”

Her heart broke at your words, wishing that she could tell you the truth, that she could make your pain stop.

Suddenly, an idea came through her mind.

“What if…what if you could talk to her. Not in the way you would actually want, but…”, she saw the despair in your eyes as she kept going, “you could write her letters”.

“Letters?”, you looked at her confused.

“Yes. You know…putting your thoughts and feelings on a piece of paper might help you get through this”, she spoke as she got closer to you with a sad smile across her face, “and you could read them to her when you’re done. I used to talk to my sister this way”.

Now it was your turn to return the sad smile. You knew what she was talking about, and you also knew that it’s still hard for her to recall those memories. So, instead of fighting any kind of help, like you would usually do, you let her words sink in.

Letters…maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe…maybe it will help. At least you hoped so.

You didn’t want to think about the other option.

“And if you don’t want to watch the pile of letters growing, you can give them to me”, she noticed your puzzled look, “I promise I won’t read anything”, she immediately clarified, “I just think that…since letters are made to be sent, you can give them to me. I’ll store them for you”.

You had no energy to question her words or to try thinking of any other options, and you knew that she would leave faster if you just agreed to everything she was saying.

“Okay”, you let out, “I’ll do it”.

“You will?”, she happily said, hugging you, “Thank you for trying this. I hope it will help you as much as it helped me”.

“I hope so too”, you smiled at her, even though you still felt hopeless on the inside.

JJ left not too long after that, and you sighed in relief.

“Letters…”, you let your mind wander around the idea.

You knew that this was her giving you a chance before she would be insisting on therapy again, but that was a worry for later. Maybe this could help.

You hoped it would, since you were soon starting to work again, all your days off being already used.

You shook your head, the thought of Emily not being in the chair next to yours breaking your heart again.

You couldn’t do this.

Without realizing, your mind led you to the bathroom again, maintaining you on the pattern you created.

—

On your last day before going back to work, your mind was plagued with thoughts from the moment you woke up, your chest feeling heavier than before - if it was even possible.

You reflected on the possible options to quiet your mind, miserably trying to prevent your body from any more scars. But it was like you couldn’t even stand a chance against yourself as you let your tears flow on your way to the bathroom.

You steadied yourself against the sink, gripping it tightly with your hands. You fixated your eyes on the person in the mirror, every ounce of hatred roaming through your body.

“Do it”.

“No”.

“Do it”.

“No”, you say louder than the previous time.

“Just one-“

“NO!”, you screamed, punching the mirror, “No more…no more scars. You can’t hurt me anymore, I’m not afraid of you”.

Your bruised hand started trembling as you watched droplets of blood going down your fingers, and panic filled your body.

No no no no no what did I do?

You desperately ran the water and started cleaning the mess you made, bandaging it almost instinctively, which subconsciously made you hate yourself all over again.

You let yourself sink on the floor as you kept on crying, the crippling loneliness feeling like a dagger to your heart. This was not who you wished to become.

“I’m not…I’m not afraid to…to keep on living”, you tried convincing yourself, “I’m not afraid to walk this world alone”.

But it only intensified your pain, feeling like you were losing control over yourself again.

That’s when it came to you - the letters, notes, writing down everything. You didn’t even think twice about it, forcing your body to get up, frantically searching for your notebook.

Relief washed over your body as you laid your eyes on it, and soon all the darkness that crept through your mind was transferred to the words that you were writing without even thinking. Easily losing track of time, you grabbed a few papers and started creating the letter from the spilled words in your notebook, telling Emily exactly how you feel.

By the end of it, a little part of you was actually glad that she couldn’t read this - you could still imagine the pained look on her face, her beautiful eyes full of sadness. It only made the ache in your heart grow.

Glancing your eyes outside, you noticed the gorgeous mixed shades of orange and pink on the sky, and your mind immediately went to her. You couldn’t explain it, but it was like she was here, with you, and you cried from the little comfort that you felt in that moment.

Grabbing the written pages, you opened the bedroom window, for the first time sitting on her side of the bed. And you read to her everything that you’ve written with tears in your eyes, a few of them falling on the paper itself.

“I love you”, you whispered at the end, hugging the letter as if it was your connection to her. As if the gesture was somehow paving her the way back home to you.

You felt foolish, waiting for a love that would never come back.

But at least this way…you could feel a bit closer to her.

You soon made your way to JJ’s house, dropping off the letter and then going back to the apartment.

—

The last thing Emily expected was one of her neighbors handing her an envelope, fearing for the worst as she thought that her cover had been blown up.

Taking it in her hand, she thanked the lady, trying not to show the anxiety and fear through her mimics as she went back into her apartment.

Sitting at her desk, she held her breath as she carefully opened it, her fingers trembling while she unfolded the paper.

Right then her heart stopped - this was…this was your writing. She knows it too well. It was from you. It really was.

“Oh my god”, she murmured, a thousand questions roaming through her mind.

Her eyes darted on the letter, the desperation of hearing from you beating any other rational thought. She could feel each beating of her heart as she started reading.

“Dear Emily,

Is there even a proper way to start this? I don’t know. But hi, it’s me - you would’ve probably recognised my writing by now if you could read this”.

She couldn’t help the wave of tears that were welling in her eyes already, a bittersweet smile curling at her lips from how well you knew her - and how well she knew you.

“JJ suggested writing my feelings down on a piece of paper, so prepare yourself, because it’s a lot. I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling. I just know that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we weren’t supposed to be torn apart like this. And then I feel like the world is laughing at me, because this is how it is, and I get no saying in this matter, just having to accept the reality that I’m living in, but I can’t”.

Guilt rushed through her body in an instant with every beating of her heart, her lip quivering from the pain that echoed from this letter — from your pain. The pain that she caused you.

“It’s weird, because on some days I am completely detached from the reality that you’re actually gone, doubting if I can bring myself to remain present in a present that has no element of you in it. I’d rather remain present in a past that has you, your smile, your voice, hoping that if I focus hard enough, it will replace this actual nightmare of a present. And there are the days when it hits me that you’re not coming back home, and I have to hold onto the pain because it’s all I have left of you. I knew that it was cruel to be so foolishly optimistic, but, in my solitude, I couldn’t resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometimes verging on a prayer. A prayer that I could hear the twist of your keys again, and recognise it’s you by the way you open the door, and that I would get to jump in your arms and never let you go again”.

Emily was fully crying by this point, her heart crumbling with every word that she was reading. She wished nothing more than to be able to walk through that door and right into your arms, to tell you how incredibly sorry she is, hoping you would forgive her. Hoping that you would forgive all the suffering she put you through.

”But of course, you never come. How could you? You’re not even alive. It’s not fair, you don’t know how awful it is without you. There is this hole in the world where you used to be, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime and falling at night. It’s when I realize, oh God, I am so alone. It’s happening again. I find myself wondering if it will ever stop, if this feeling will ever go away, if the loneliness will ever cease. My mind answers for me instantly, with the harshest no I’ve ever heard. And then I cry, because I don’t want to feel like this my whole life. I’m so afraid, not having a place to call home anymore. It lost its meaning the day you left, and I don’t think I’ll ever find it again”.

Tears turned into sobs, feeling like a bullet striking right through her soul as she read this paragraph, her hands trembling on the paper, struggling to not fall apart.

What has she done?

She completely destroyed the love of her life, and she couldn’t do anything but watch the aftermath of her actions.

“I wish we had more time together. I wish I knew what to do with all the love I have for you, where to put it in your absence. I miss you. I miss you so much. And I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I let the tears fall on my face as I find myself wishing to be able to be beside you just one more time, knowing it would tear me apart even more. But I would still do it, if it meant being able to see you again. I would give anything for that. I don’t know who I am anymore, without you here. It’s like you took a part of my soul with you that day and left me wandering around, trying to find the piece that will always be missing. Please come back Emily, please. I don’t want to walk this life alone”.

She clutched the letter to her chest, the desperation in your words almost taking her breath away - the torment and agony of feeling so helpless causing every part of her being to ache.

”I’m so sorry”, she whispered through her sobs, endlessly repeating it as if you could hear her.

She wished she could do more, oh how much she wished it. To book the first plane ticket back to the States and rush to you like her life depended on it, and it killed her that she couldn’t do that. To hold you and wipe your tears away, to scatter the pain inside your heart with her presence, to tell you that everything is okay and that you didn’t lose one another.

It wasn’t fair.

Almost fearful, she placed the letter back on her desk, continuing to read it.

“Is it selfish to want you to come back, despite the suffering that you went through? Maybe it is, I don’t know. I just want you here. But I know you’re in a better place, at least I’d like to think that. I was never much of a religious person, but here I find myself hoping that Heaven exists and that it’s treating your soul with nothing but kindness. I hope it’s full of peace and happiness, that you are free from the pain that you’ve endured for so long, that you can be carefree and laugh and smile, that you’re feeling everything I haven’t since I lost you. And if somehow you can hear me, I need you to know that I forgive you for breaking our promise - the promise that we’ll be together forever. I know you wanted to protect us, I know. It still hurts, I don’t think it will ever stop, but I know. And I’ll keep holding on my part, because I’ll never stop loving you. Forever and always, isn’t that what we told each other? You were my person, my everything, and I’ll never let you go, at least not from my heart. It’s always been yours. I'm going to miss you until my very last breath. But that’s why I hope that at least you are okay up there, because I never will be. I just hope that, in my freefall, the bottom won’t destroy me completely”.

“Oh, my love”, she brushed her fingers on the spots where your tears were long dried, trying not to ruin it with her own.

It has become a constant battle with her own tears, hopelessly trying to wipe them before they made their way on the tragedy-filled letter, whilst every fiber of her being wanted to scream from the top of her lungs until you could hear her, that she’s still here, living in a nightmare of her own.

The words written on this letter, she feels each and every one of them, hitting her harder as they went on, slowly destroying another little part of her. She couldn’t even feel an ounce of relief at the thought of you forgiving her, when she has hurt you irremediably so.

And even in this suffering, you wished her every wonderful thing that you could - and of course you would, she didn’t expect it to be any other way. She didn’t even know if she preferred you to be angry at her, but one thing was clear - she would have deserved it.

But you would never do that.

”Anyway, I’m going back to work tomorrow, first time without you being there, and God, I have no idea how I’m going to pull through. Without you next to me at the table, or in the car, or on the plane, or anywhere at all. I wish I could hear you say one more time that it’s going be okay and that I’m strong enough to do it, because I really don’t feel like I am. My only hope is that it will get easier over time, even if it feels like wishful thinking at the moment. Because otherwise, I don’t see things ending well for me. And I know you’d be incredibly worried if you could hear me, so part of me hopes that you’re in your little bubble of paradise and cannot hear my rambling. But if you somehow heard me, I hope you can accept my love and pain without the guilt that comes with them. And I want to finish this by saying that I love you and always will, and I’ll carry you in my heart everywhere you cannot be, through all of my days, for the rest of my life”.

Goddamnit...

[igotanidea]

Smooth criminal: AK!Jason x reader

part 1 : Somebody's watching me

part 2: Run baby, run

Yeah... I know it's been a while. Sorry guys. But here we are :)

***

They say that history repeats itself. That’s its merely a one big circle in which people get lost endlessly, not learning from the past mistakes, instead doing them all over again.

Like an Uroboros, forevermore biting his tail.

And that was how Y/N felt at the moment, shaking over the cup of tea Dick so generously offered her alongside with his hoodie. And even more kindly – not asking any questions of why she showed up at his apartment (or rather under it) in the middle of the night looking crazy.

She was back at the beginning. Back over Jason’s grave, sobbing and shaking while the memories of the news of him being gone forever haunted her mind.

Felt like all her efforts to forget and move on have come to nothing.

“Y/N…”

“No. No please I don’t want to talk Dick-“

“I was just gonna say you can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t know what got you so freaked out, but the Y/N I know – knew­ – was not the one to get scared over a spider or a mouse. So it must have been serious. Stay.” He grabbed and squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I’m serious.”

“No, no it’s too much to ask for—”

“Good thing you did not ask then.” Dick grinned “Cause I believe I offered It myself.”

“You really didn’t change a bit, Grayson. Same golden, sunshine boy.”

“And you’re still the same, not holding back girl. Woman. How long has it been exactly?”

“Two years.” She sighed

“Two years.” Dick sighed too, his eyes becoming a little blurry from the memories. “I missed you, you know. And not only me. So did Tim and Alfred and Damian and I’m sure even Bruce became a little more grumpy without your presence to challenge him.”

“He’s got enough criminals to keep him entertained I believe?”

“Oh, Y/N, criminals he can handle easily, they are no fun. But having a woman with a sharp mind? That’s something Bruce still needs a lot of training in.”

***

 It was shockingly easy to reconnect with Dick.

Or maybe not, given the fact he was always awfully friendly, keeping in touch even with his exes and even having considerably good relations with some villains.

Long story short, in a months’ time she was regularly back in his life and he was back in hers. And much to her surprise, this time it was not a constant reminder of the person she lost, neither filling the void, but rather a soft recollection that she was not the only one who felt the repercussions of Jason being gone.

If anything, after that time apart, it felt like Y/N and Dick’s relationship could finally move past the tragic events and bloom. Not in a romantic sense, because he had Barbara and was making plans in that area, but like a true, deep friendship, cemented with similar feelings.

And she even got the guts to meet with the rest of the batfamily, ditching those girls who left her alone at the party. Slowly, but steadily, she was getting back to her old, familiar self, dropping the act of a girl who wanted to be anything but the version she was when Jason was alive and with her.  She was not running from the past anymore, but rather embracing and accepting it. And that was the real healing.

Only that Jason was not gone.

Observing her carefully from the shadows, watching almost every step, be it himself or using his militia. With explicit orders given to not let her know they were there. He had bigger plans coming, and making the same mistake as before, by coming as close as to touch her, could never happen again. Even if somewhere deep inside, the very subdued part of him screamed for that. For the warmth he remembered and knew would come with tenderness and not pain.

She never gave him anything less but love and devotion.

If anything Jason was only cursing himself that he let her step into the Batman world again. That is was his reckless behavior that drove her back into the arms of people, who were nothing but bad news. Who would eventually end up hurting her too.

And he was going to protect his little, innocent princess from that.

So yes, he was watching.

Sending his goons when he knew she was walking back home from work late, to ensure no one would lay a finger on her.

Causing a commotion in the area that happened to be dangerous only so she would choose another way.

Sending her colleagues threat letters so they would drop the chase for the same promotion at work as her.

Beating up a guy who was trying to flirt with her when she was buying coffee-to-go at her favorite place.

Doing it all smoothly, like a professional he was.

Building up a way to execute his master plan that would keep her safe from any danger, real or hypothetical. Forever.

***

“She got home, boss. Safe and sound, not one hair out of place.” One of his militia officers reported to him

“Good.” Jason only grunted in response. One whole month and he was so close to the finale. The end was right in front of him and he had to hold himself back to not make a single rookie mistake that would derail his efforts.

“If I may, sir, why exactly are we wasting resources on some woman? She’s no one important, just a regular—”

“What did you say?”

If the sinister voice wasn’t enough to make the man stop his sentence, the iron grip on his throat did.

“I- I-“

“No one important? Huh? Was that what you said?” Jason mocked tightening fingers on the man's jugular. “Answer me!”

“I- I-“ he was struggling for air.

“Pathetic!” Jason threw him on the ground, retrieving the gun from his holster, pointing it at the man’s head.

“Please, don’t—”

“I should put a bullet in your head for talking about her like that and second one for questioning my plans.” The gun outlet was now pressing into the man’s temple. “You are doing what I tell you, you hear me? No questions. No doubts. You are here to serve me, unless-“ Jason put a little bit of pressure on the trigger.

“No! No please!”

“You’re a piece of shit.” Arkham Knight muttered, taking the gun away. “But I am feeling merciful today. We can’t have blood on the floor when Y/N arrives. Now go! Get out of my face before I change my mind! And you make sure everything is perfect because if not—” he  caressed the arms with a cruel glint in his eyes, enjoying the way his officer rushed out of the room, throwing commands left and right, halfway out the door.

“Soon, baby… Soon we’ll be back together…” Jason muttered to himself once he was finally alone.

He was so close to having everything he needed.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45 @princessbl0ss0m @rosieandthethorns @beingaturtlespiritually @grierpilots @killerwendigo @teenytinytunes

[s7-evermore]

My Heart Stays With You | Leona Kingscholar x Mistress! Yuu/Reader

NOTE: Hey, so I can’t find the FUCKING fic I was talking about in this post and despite all my desperate searching I STILL can’t find it so I’m WRITING MY OWN VERSION OF IT until the author of that fic MESSAGES ME AND GOES “EYO DUDE WTF THAT IDEA WAS MINE” so I can search their blog and finally read the fucking story cuz istg I can’t focus on my schoolwork with that fic weighing on my mind like a curse that’s been placed on my family for 40 generations.

EDIT: someone in the comments lovingly told me who the author of the original one was and it was @/kiwibirdmother but all their posts disappeared so 🤡 fuck. LUCKILY tho I used the wayback internet thing and I managed to read them again :D if you guys want a link to it I’ll share thru dm cuz I’m too lazy to post something about it rn ejdkskxkskx

SYNOPSIS: Leona had been forced into an arranged marriage with a noblewoman, but he had already been in a relationship with Yuu. They loved each other too much, and both of them weren’t willing to let each other go. So in their own selfish ways, they stayed together despite the ring shining on his finger.

The two of them never thought it would get to this.

Leona had hoped that he would at least be able to make her his officially. All he needed to do was graduate and introduce her to his family, as reluctant as he was to let her into the royal life for the fear that she would have to carry the weight of it, he was far too selfish to let her go.

But Yuu didn’t mind at all. Just like him, she was far too selfish to let him go.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

When the news came to her that Leona had no choice but to push through with the arranged marriage, he rushed to her room in Ramshackle Dorm to hold her in his arms.

“Stay with me,” He begged that night, holding her in his arms with all the strength he could muster. “Please stay with me.”

It felt out of character for him to say those words with such strong emotion, but in the years they’ve been together, as she approached her fourth year in NRC, Leona slowly learned to lower his walls around her.

Only around her. Just her.

“Stay with me. I won’t do anything with her. I promise.”

“But…”

Hearing her strained voice and her choked sobs as she cried on his shoulder broke his heart. His heart… that he had given to her all those years ago when she accepted him with all of her being…

How unfair could the world get?

“I won’t. You’re the only one in my heart,” he stated firmly, a promise that he would hold himself to for the rest of his life.

“That stupid marriage is only for formalities. A political convenience. That woman and I don’t even have to do anything, and I don’t intend on giving myself to her. Not my love, not my mind, not my body.”

He looked into her eyes, furrowing his brows with intensity. When Yuu looked at them, she could feel the fierce heat of his love for her and his unyielding devotion.

She understood his place. He really had no say in the marriage, it had already been set in stone. Leona knew this well, and yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty… she had been so kind to him, so understanding…

“Yuu…” his voice was molten gold, and it seeped through the cracks of her heart.

“I love you. Only you. Please stay with me.”

“I will,” she said without hesitation.

He kissed her the moment she said those words, and a night of passion between them followed.

That wouldn’t be their last.

The night before his wedding, Leona drove to a villa some distance away from the palace.

It was distant from other residences and a little more solitary. Leona knew it would be perfect for Yuu, so he bought it immediately before anyone else could so she could live there with Grim after their graduation.

He knocked on the door, and it opened within a few seconds.

He felt his heart beating rapidly when he saw her face. For a moment, Leona felt at peace.

Yuu smiled, looking just as relieved, “You’re here…”

He moved to embrace her.

Ever since the arranged marriage, it was the first thing he would do whenever he visited her. An act of reassurance that he would forever be hers.

“I came just as I said I would,” He said.

“It’s tomorrow,” she quietly muttered.

“Will you go?”

“I promised I would.”

“It would hurt you…”

“It would hurt you just as much…” she said, her voice breaking, “I…I promised you that I would…always be there to comfort you…”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable any more than I already have,” he sighed. His woman was far too kind to him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she tried to be a little petty.

“I think… I think it would make me more uncomfortable not seeing you, knowing that you would be with her…”

Leona knew that his brother was aware of his distaste for the marriage, but the will of their father, even as he lay sickly on his bed, had to be followed.

“Leona…”

He knew what that tone in her voice meant.

He looked down at her slightly, immediately noticing her half-lidded eyes and her sudden shy but sensual smile.

“Will you stay with me a little longer…?”

She didn’t even have to ask.

He pulled her to her bedroom. And there, they lost themselves into each other’s arms, wrapped up in the heat of their love.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

“Did you meet up with your friends?”

The question came to him as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She had her head against his chest, his arm around her as he slowly traced shapes on her skin.

“Jack said that you asked him and Ruggie to escort me…” she said, recalling her meeting with her friends from NRC the past week.

Leona had taken it upon himself to invite some notable people from NRC, especially those he knew she would be close with. Most of them also knew of the relationship they kept going through with, as dangerous as it was.

Vil Schönheit had actually been the one to visit her first. He was invited as Leona’s acquaintance and former school “friend”, according to Leona himself. Vil was one of the few people who knew about their continuing relationship despite Leona’s arranged marriage, and out of respect for Yuu (who Vil was clearly fond of) agreed to keep it a secret.

Kalim and Jamil were invited as well, under the pretext of Kalim being the first son of House Asim and Jamil as his servant. When they came to her home, they reminisced on old times and agreed to keep in touch.

As she told him about their visits, she remembered another thing.

“I didn’t expect you to invite Malleus to the wedding…” she said.

“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“Yes but…”

Although she continued writing to malleus, as he was her cherished friend, she knew that the two of them hardly got along.

“A lotta random royals, nobles and celebrities are invited out of formality, so I thought that I might as well invite someone you’re familiar with. Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus came to mind at first.”

He looked down at her as he stroked her hair, “I’m sure you’ll be fine with their company. If you’re around people like them then no one should be able to bother you. I made sure to tell them all to visit you before the wedding.”

Malleus didn’t come alone, of course. Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came there as the Briar Valley prince’s attendants.

Those four weren’t daft by any means. She knew that they had probably already figured out that they were keeping their relationship a secret from the public.

“Are you alright with this?” Sebek had asked her, his voice strangely reluctant and…soft.

“We both aren’t,” she admitted to him, “But this is… the only way we could live right now.”

Malleus sighed, lamenting how unfortunate your circumstances are.

“If you need a place to belong, let us know,” He told her. “Briar Valley will welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you…” she smiled kindly at her friends, “But I belong with Leona.”

“Leona, congratulations on your wedding.”

Leona watched as Vil approached him with Yuu around his arm.

Vil turned to the bride with a practiced smile, “and to you as well, my lady.”

“Congratulations, both of you,” Yuu said with a smile that made Leona uncomfortable. He hated her fake smiles.

He hated this. He hated all of this.

“You truly are fortunate, Lady Aisha,” her words pierced his heart like a bullet. His hands were itching to hold her in his arms. “To be wed to Leona… well, it might not be easy but…”

Yuu met his eyes, something profound shining within them, mixed with hopelessness and pain.

“I’m sure…he’ll be a very wonderful lover.”

The bride noticed the look Leona was giving the human girl while pondering the meaning of her words. With a strained smile, clearly masking her irritation, Aisha intertwined her arms around Leona’s and smiled at her.

“Oh I am well aware of that,” she says with a sickeningly sweet smile, “he is always so good to me.”

Yuu didn’t mean to take her words too far, but despite the bitterness in Aisha’s words, she smiled like a flower in bloom, masking her pain like it was nothing.

“I wish you both happiness.”

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

“Kifaji.”

The royal family’s long-time aid turned around at the sharp call of Leona’s new bride. Her features were marred with irritation, unbefitting of the occasion.

“Yes, my lady?” He acknowledged her calmly, ready to take every complain she has.

“Who is that woman?”

Kifaji looked at where she was pointing only to see Leona chatting with Yuu.

The aid’s expression softened at the sight of them. Leona’s eyes were unguarded as he spoke to the young woman, seemingly taking in every word she was saying. Yuu, on the other hand, despite the occasion simply seemed happy to be in the presence of the second prince.

It was the same scene he had seen quite a few years ago, when Leona brought her along with some other schoolmates for Tamashina-Mina. She was a darling little thing— she was beautiful. She got along well with their friends and Leona cared about her more than he liked to admit. But it didn’t escape Kifaji’s eyes when he saw Leona buy her a gift. A necklace the same color as his eyes, just as she requested.

“You should have chosen one with your eye color instead.” He heard Leona say to her.

“No,” Yuu shakes her head, “I like the color of your eyes better.”

She was sweet and by no means a push-over. She knew how to keep Leona in place without being pushy, and it was clear to anyone that Leona favored her greatly.

Kifaji had…hoped that he got to see Leona happy with her.

If it hadn’t been for the arranged marriage that the two princes’ father wanted… then maybe… maybe then the second prince would finally smile for the rest of his days…

“That is Miss Yuu, a long-time friend of his Highness,” he told Aisha calmly. “Prince Leona is quite fond of her, as is Prince Cheka, please do get along with her.”

“They look too close to be friends,” she quipped.

Kifaji could only do what he could for the Prince he had taken care of…

“I would not worry about that,” he said, expression unchanging, “I am certain that they are only friends.”

The lady huffed before fixing her wedding garments and going back to the party, Kifaji could finally breathe.

It was 12 AM at midnight, just two hours after the wedding and the reception ended when she heard something park itself on her driveway.

Before she could get the chance to look out the window, someone immediately knocks on the door.

In a rush, she opens the door only to see the lion that had been plaguing her thoughts, feeding the shadows whispering in her mind.

Large arms wrapped themselves around her in a warm embrace.

“I drove here as soon as everyone was asleep.”

She returned his embrace, feeling the beat of his heart against hers.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I can’t stand it. She was so annoying…” he buried his nose against her hair. “All she did was complain when all I did was nap on the bed.”

Lady Aisha must have gotten angry that Leona wouldn't touch her on their wedding night... She thought to herself. The thought of Leona sharing a bed with another woman made her heartache. She wanted to erase the image in her mind..

But she couldn’t do much now, can she? He was a married man now, but it wasn’t to her… no, it was to someone else.

However…

“Aren’t you gonna welcome me home?”

He will always return to her. Never touched and never kissed by anyone else but her.

She chuckles, looking up at him with pained eyes.

“It’s your wedding night, you know…? You could at least…”

“I told you, I ain’t touchin’ her.”

“You…you don’t have to… but it might make your family mad if you suddenly—“

He places a hand under her chin and forces her to look at him before stroking her cheek.

“I don’t care,” he says with finality. “I don’t care about that stupid wedding. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about any of them.”

His forehead touches hers, a tear escapes her eye.

“I care about us.”

And he kisses her with more love than he could ever give.

Another night passes, and Leona is once more entangled in Yuu’s arms.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[bunnybrews]

the predator, the prey and the hunter- sylus x reader (slight mc x reader)

genre : angst, slight yandere, suggestive

syn : betrayal isn't something sylus takes lightly, specially when it comes from his bunny.

cw : non-mc! reader, abduction, violence, hair pulling, choking, usage of nicknames (dove, bunny, love, doll, etc.), mention of slapping, slight yandere behaviour.

wc : 2,961

you were nothing but a low ranking member of onychinus, so receiving a mission of such importance was extremely rare and yet here you were, babysitting the hunter who had recently been abducted by your master.

you watched in wonder as the hunter moved around, seemingly searching for an exit. there was a certain grace she carried which enamoured you.

she had everything you wanted, she was everything you wanted to be. brave, kind, strong willed and above all, she belonged to the place of your dreams, linkon city.

you had always wanted to go to linkon, to see the sun, to feel its rays hit your body and fill you with a deep sense of joy and warmth just like all those books described.

but alas, some dreams can never be fulfilled. your fate had already been decided when you took birth in a small shady cabin in the N109 zone to a mother who had a terminal illness and a father who was barely there due to his duties as an onychinus member.

you remember being barely fourteen when the news of your father dying during a mission reached you home. your mother had cried and sobbed all day while you just sat there, unable to bring yourself to cry over a man who you barely saw.

your mother followed your father's footsteps just a year later. her illness finally taking what was left of her.

just a day after your mother's death, the leader of onychinus had personally visited your small shack, offering you a place in his mansion and a position in his syndicate.

though you had nothing against him personally, infact, you held a certain amount of respect for him, yet this was not what you wanted. you didn't want to be part of a criminal organisation, no, you wanted to leave.

you wanted to fulfil the dreams you saw as a young child, to experience the stories your mother often read to you, you wanted to escape the dark alleys of N109 zone and flee to linkon.

yet you weren't dumb enough to refuse his offer. you knew that doing so would ensure a rather painful death. hence, you agreed.

and here you were now, staring at the hunter as if she was some goddess who had just descended from the high heavens.

the stars in your eyes were painfully visible to everyone, including the hunter. she could see the curiosity and naivety that lingered in your eyes. as much as it bothered her, she knew tricking and using you would be her only way to escape this hell.

your eyes lit up as you saw the hunter take a seat next to you on the sofa before you quickly looked away, trying to school your expressions back to neutral.

though before you got the chance to do so, a hand was placed on your thigh making you snap your head towards the hunter who was currently smiling down at you.

the fact that the hunter was a few inches taller than you was made evident when you had to crane your head up to look into her eyes.

they were green like the protocores you saw being transported in and out of the mansion and so so shiny! you were basically lost in their vibrancy.

a gentle squeeze to your thigh brought you out of your musing as a chuckle left the hunter's pretty lips.

“what's your name?” it was a simple question but the voice that left her lips had you in a trance, one that was broken by another squeeze to your thigh.

“i- i can't tell you my name. sorry!”

you were quick to remember your training and lessons, making sure to not reveal anything.

“why though? its just a name, its not like i'm going to report you to the hunters or something”

“umm yeah but master told us to not reveal anything about ourselves to anyone. he says that it could lead us into a lot of trouble. i'm really sorry but i can't go against his orders”

the hunter huffed in annoyance as she realised that she won't be finding any answers from the girl anytime soon. she had to change her approach.

“no no, you don't need to apologise. its my fault for asking. it's just that i've been trapped here for so long and you are the first person who hasn't been rude to me, i was just trying to get to know you more i guess, i'm sorry.”

her voice was softer now, hints of sadness and pain wafting through it. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl sitting next to you, your heart melting a little at the frown on her face.

“i understand, it must have been hard for you, not having anyone to talk to. while i may not be able to share anything valuable with you, i'll be more than happy to indulge in a conversation!”

a smirk graced the hunter's lips for a second, the innocent dove had just entered the cage set up for her. she almost scoffed at your naivety. you don't belong here in this hell, she would have to make sure to take you with her when she finally finds a way out.

“how about we play 20 questions? we'll be able to get to know each other better this way without revealing any crucial details about ourselves and you can just skip the questions which you feel are too imposing.”

the hunter's plan was perfect. a game of 20 questions was her best shot at gathering whatever information she could under the guise of getting to know each other.

“that sounds so fun! we can do that!”

“alright, i'll start. why did you join onychinus?”

she watched as you tensed up, an air of uncomfort forming around you. sensing your unease, she decided to tread carefully and changed up the question.

“nevermind, you don't have to answer that. hmm, well…how about…what is something that you really want to do or really want to achieve?”

the hunter knew that this was a risky gamble yet the gleam that took over your eyes at the question reassured her. your voice was soft as you shyly answered while playing with your hands.

“i've always wanted to see the sun. i've heard lots of stories about it, my mom used to read them to me before bed! i just wanna see it with my own eyes. anyways, its my turn to ask you a question now!”

she nodded at you, motioning you to ask away.

“how does the sun feel like? does it feel good when you walk in the sunlight? is it just like the stories or does it hurt and irritate you?”

“it's even better than the stories. walking in the sunlight feels like you are being embraced by warmth itself. it's really magical.”

hook, line and sinker! the trap had already been set into place, all she needed to do now was to lure you out and judging by the look of amazement in your eyes, she could tell that she was already halfway there.

“alright, it seems to be my turn now. if you really want to see the sun so badly, then why are you still here in this damned place?”

she observed the way you lowered you head slightly and chewed on your bottom lip. she sighed as her hopes of getting an answer out of you diminished.

“uh well, i can't just leave. master won't allow it.”

“why? does he not give you any freedom to do as you wish? has he trapped you here as well?”

“it's not like that! i am allowed to roam around the zone all i want but i can't leave. it's against the rules. also, even if i was allowed to leave the zone, its not like i could ever step into linkon without being hunted down and charged for my association with onychinus.”

the frown tugging at your lips quickly lifted as a warm hand was placed under your jaw, gently lifting your face up.

“i can help you. i know someone who can make up a fake identity for you, no one will be able to recognize you!”

you sighed against her palm turning your face slightly so that your cheek was resting against her palm instead of your jaw.

“what's a fake identity gonna do when i can't even leave the zone? i told you, i'm not allowed to leave”

“then let's run away. run away with me and we'll go to linkon. let me help you. help me so i can help you.”

she felt the way you tensed up and drew back from her, a gasp leaving your lips. the hesitation was visible in your eyes, but there was something else too.

“y-you shouldn't be saying things like that out loud! master will be so angry if he heard you. he'll lock you up and kill me for even talking about such things if he heard this.

“will you please stop thinking about your master for a second and instead think about yourself for once! what about you? what about your wants? your desires? are you really just going to give all your dreams up like that? is this what you want? to keep living in this slump until you grow old and die one day without even seeing the sunlight? is that what you want, huh?”

her words jabbed at a wound that had always been present in your heart. you don't want this. you don't want to grow old here and die without seeing the sunlight, just like your parents did. you don't want the same fate as them.

the hunter smirked as she watched the flame she had ignited swallow you whole. the sweet sound of your resolve crumbling was audible to her. she could see your hesitation being replaced with determination.

“but how? how are you going to take me to linkon when you yourself are trapped here?”

“this, my love, is where you enter the plan. you will get me out of here, and as repayment, i'll get you a new identity and citizenship in linkon.”

“but how would i be able to help you? if i knew how to escape this place successfully, don't you think i would have used that tactic to flee already?”

“you may not know how to escape the N109 zone but i'm sure you know how to exit this mansion. all you have to do is get me out of here and leave the rest to me. don't worry your pretty little head too much by overthinking, doll. just lead me out of here, and i'll take you with me to the place of your dreams.”

she held out her hand to you, patiently waiting for you to accept her offer. it didn't surprise her a bit when your soft hand found its way into hers, fingers intertwined together.

you quickly stood up, taking the hunter with you as you used your key to open the door, leading the both of you towards the hallway which you knew would open into a secret exit.

the both of you dashed towards the exit hand in hand until a black mist suddenly pushed you both back forcefully, making you crash into the nearest wall.

before you could even open your mouth to let out a whine, a pair of blood red eyes captured your gaze. he found out.

you glanced at the hunter when the sound of someone choking and wheezing started filling the room. you could see the black mist tightly coiled around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

if this is how he punished the girl who he had abducted because she owned something that was necessary for his plan, you didn't even want to find out how he would punish you, a low ranking employee.

all you could do was shut your eyes tightly and await the punishment that you were sure was going to come your way.

the feeling of a bruising grip on your jaw was all that you felt before you were pushed aside, your body hitting the floor as you finally opened your eyes to see your master stalking towards the hunter.

the choking noises subsided as the grip of his evol loosened. you watched as he touched the hunter's hair before roughly pulling them, making her look into his eyes.

“were you really dumb enough to believe that you could escape me, huh? you really thought you could plot against me in my own home and i won’t find you? i must commend you though, you may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but you are an excellent manipulator or maybe my dumb little bunny is just too stupid, falling for your silly tricks”

just as the last sentence left his lips, he turned towards you. the trembles in your body increased as the distance between you and your master decreased.

you felt his evol coil around yourself as you were brought to your feet, body immobilised and held in place by his evol.

tears started leaking out of your eyes as you awaited your fate. a whimper escaping your trembling lips as a hand reached up towards your face. you expected a slap but instead were greeted by his rough calloused fingers wiping your tears.

“my stupid bunny, always managing to find a way to amuse me. did you really think that i would let you leave? so dumb. what am i going to do with you? should i lock you up in a room just like her, take all your freedom away? or should i punish you, show you what happens to naughty little bunnies when they disobey their masters? tell me bunny, which one do you prefer?

you knew it was a trick question and yet you shook your head wildly. glancing up at your master with tears still streaming down your eyes as soft sobs left your lips, you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

the knowledge that you were the reason for the disappointment made your sobs increase in both volume and velocity. your body trembling badly under the hold of his evol.

seeing your pitiful condition, the hunter couldn't help but blame herself, the sight of you tear stained face making her lose her temper and rebel against the energy holding her in place.

“step away from her you monster! she had no part in this!”

sylus snapped his head towards the hunter, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she fought for you as if you were hers to protect.

it was obvious that the hunter had taken a liking to you and this filled the red eyed man with fury. the thought of the hunter liking you was sending his brain into an overdrive.

he had to prove his ownership over you. needed to prove his ownership over you. if he was going to have to take you in front of the damned hunter to prove that you were his then so be it.

he used his evol to pull you towards himself, a hand snaking down to your waist as he pulled you closer until your back was resting against his chest.

“tch, you see miss hunter, that's where you are wrong. she did have a part in this, a huge part if i say so myself.”

his grip tightened over you as his other hand went to your face, turning it to an angle so that you were staring into his eyes once again.

“she should have known better than to fall for your antics. she should've been smarter and most importantly, she should've remembered who she belongs to”

with that he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was anything but gentle. his teeth pulled at your lower lip, tongue swirled around yours, lips moved against yours at a bruising pace, all while you stood there like a statue.

he pulled away from you after sometime of sucking the life straight out of your mouth. his eyes briefly finding yours before they moved to the hunter who had her jaw clenched and anger flared at the sight.

he watched in amusement as she thrashed around his evol, trying to escape the bruising grip before looking down at you once again.

you were still staring up at him with your glossy lips parted and your eyes widened in horror. at that moment you looked like the textbook definition of adorable if he may say so himself.

he used the hand holding your face to gently push a strand of stray hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low but loud enough for both you and the hunter to hear.

“i think i finally figured you punishment out bunny. you've been such a naughty girl lately. do you know what happens to naughty girls? they get fucked roughly by their masters. im not that cruel though, so i'll make your punishment a little easier for you. since you've taken such a liking to miss hunter over there, i'll make sure she stays with you, watching you while i fuck the life out of you. you would like that, won't you bunny?

you were suddenly pushed onto your knees and the hand which was previously holding you now rested on your head.

cautiously, you peeked up at the hunter hoping to find a sign of reassurance in her eyes but to your shock, her eyes, just like your master's, were glazed with lust.

oh heavens, tonight was definitely going to be a long and tiring one for you.

[ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs]

-Star Crossed- chapter 1

Pairing- Oc!reader(afab) x Logan Howlett

Words- 1.9k (not proofread plz excuse any errors)

Summary- it’s been nearly 2 years since Cora(reader) and Logan both lost eachother in their own universe, both broken, angry and hated amongst their people, They would do anything to see one another again, little did they know that day would come sooner than expected, and shatter their hearts into pieces and drive their long hidden desires to the surface ….will they be able to forgive themselves for their past and finally be together? Or will the universe just tear them apart once again?

Warnings- mentions of death, blood, 18+ (smut) in some later scenes/chapters… tension!!!! ./trauma/ no use of y/n I will be using a name but I won’t be describing any appearances! / Logan is aged down to be atleast in his early /mid 30s in this story / will add more warnings when needed.

————————————————————————

You’ve been rotting in your bed for months now, you can’t bring yourself to do much…not anymore.. you feel so lost, so hopeless..all because he’s gone, and you blame yourself for everything that had happened , you blame yourself for losing Logan.

You stare up at the white ceiling, Logans dog tags rest around your neck, his old grey zip up wrapped in your arms, his scent slowly fading with each day that passes. You feel nothing but sadness, you’ve cried so much you genuinely don’t think you can bare to cry anymore you just want out. Out of this fucking world, out of your misery. But what can you do? Just leave? No…what would leaving do? You’d still carry the pain you’ve felt since the day Logan Howlett died in your arms. Sometimes you swear you can still feel the warmth from his blood pooling under you, his heavy body laying stiff in your arms…the feeling of absolute dread when he stopped responding to your pleas to stay with you a little longer, when his hand fell from your face, body going limp…thinking about it makes you want to end your own life sometimes but you know that’s not what he would have wanted for you…he would want you to live on, but how could you live when the only man you’d ever loved was gone …forever?

You rolled over on your side, your face sinking into your pillow while you held his jacket close to your body, your other hand clenching his bloodstained necklace it’s all you had left of him since you left the x mansion, you couldn’t be there anymore, not with all the memories and not with knowing none of your friends were there anymore either.. they were all gone, dead… you were the last one left, and you couldn't bear to be reminded of all the happy memories...not when survivors guilt was riddled in your body. when everyone had died, you felt like you at least had a reason to live giving you still had logan by your side, but then he got sick, adamantium poisoning....you don't know how it happened, but the adamantium inside of him started to break down, entering his blood stream, it weakened him, slowed down his healing factor...you hated seeing him in pain, it wasn't like him to show it so much, it broke your heart almost every day and that's when you decided to find a way to help him before it got too bad...but little did you know... that would be the very cause of his death.

You blame yourself every single fucking day for his death, sometimes you wonder if you even deserve to wear those dog tags he ripped from his neck and placed in your blood-soaked hands...."I'm so sorry Logan..." you whisper into the jacket, muffled cries echoed through the quiet dark room, cries that soon turned into loud gut wrenching sobs.. you stayed like that for hours, crying yourself to sleep, the way you did almost every night.

you were jolted awake the next morning by the sound of hard loud knocks on your apartment door. You look around frantically, knowing who it was already...it was them.. humans. Humans who hated you more than anything, more than any other mutant...why? because they blame you for the deaths of the other x-men, and they most definitely blame you for the death of Wolverine. "fuck...that fast??" you mutter stuffing your things into a bookbag that lay on the floor next to your bed, they had defintely found you faster than last time....fuck.

you tried to sneak out the window in your bedroom when the door was kicked open by a few bigger men, they ran inside trashing the place, calling out your name in a way that made your skin crawl "COME OUT YOU BITCH" one yelled like a raging brute "come out come out wherever you are Cora, we just wanna make you feel the pain we felt when you killed the x-men" another cooed, his voice was one you'd hear when taunting someone, it was fucking creepy.

"Fuck me!" you spit in a whisper, they seemed even more upset than before...to this day you don't understand why the humans decided to turn against you, I guess they just needed someone to blame for the deaths...and you were right there and unscathed. As you were trying to make your way out the small window, the door to your bedroom flung open and 3 men entered, a mob of people behind them, they grabbed you almost immediately, grabbing your hands and putting them behind your back, and covering your eyes knowing full well of all your abilities. "We got you; you bitch, you're not going anywhere" . Now this whole ordeal would be a lot easier if you could just use your powers against them, but you took an oath when Logan died to never use your powers to harm a soul ever again...and yea these people were horrible trying to kill you but they genuinely think it's your fault your friends are dead...and you know you'd feel the same way if you were in their shoes, so yea...you took an oath to never use your powers to harm these people...but no one ever said anything about using your combat skills...like cmon you were a fucking x-men...these people are really stupid.

you kicked your leg up into the air, uppercutting one person causing them to fall onto the ground with a loud thump. you then brought your head back to headbutt the man holding your arms behind your back and when you felt they were free you ripped the blindfold off and quickly grabbed a lamp that sat on your bedside table, bashing it against another's head. A few people came charging at you at once, but you dodged them with minimal effort, grabbing their heads and bashing them together causing their bodies to go limp and fall to the ground. your right elbow landed directly into someone's stomach making them gasp for air then you brought your knee up to bash it clear into their face, as someone tried to climb onto your back you stumbled from the sudden attack and fell back into a wall causing them to bring a knife right down into your upper abdomen "GET OFF OF ME" you screamed in pain , pushing yourself back into the wall again and again but the person still had a grip on you, that's when another person tried coming at you full speed to tackle you to the ground...you were getting exhausted, you hadn't properly worked out in months and this sudden fight was one you weren't expecting... you were annoyed, trying to fight all these people, finally getting the person on your back off you head someone yell "YOU MURDERER, YOURE KILLING US BUT WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THEY NEEDED YOU"

"ITS ALL YOUR FAULT WOLVERINE IS DEAD" those words, those seven words snapped something inside of you...and well that oath you took...it meant nothing to you now. you brought your hands up into the air, your eyes glowing a bright white, the humans looked at you with nothhing but fear in their eyes. they all stumbled over eachother in the small apartment, but none of them were fast enough, you brought your hands down with a swift motion and everyone in the room flung back, some hit walls, some crashed into furniture and others flew out of windows, an instant death giving you were on the 7th floor. "I DID NOT KILL LOGAN" you screamed, people tried getting up but you didnt let that slide, "I TREID TO SAVE HIM, I LOVED HIM” you swished your hand to cause the ones trying to escape to fling back to the ground. You saw the man that uttered those words that made you snap almost instantly, you had heard them so many times before but for some reason today was the last straw, you tilted your head to the side walking towards him slowly as you brought your hand up you balled it into a fist and watched as he was lifted off the ground, grasping hopelessly at his neck, he couldn't breathe and you only squeezed your fist tighter and tighter as you watched his face turn blue, you glared at him, your eyes narrowing until

'POP'

His head was gone within an instant, blood painted your clothes and face. You were in uncontrollable rage, and couldn't stop, matter of fact you didn't want to stop. you wanted them to feel the pain they have been putting you through when you were already going through enough.

The others screamed, but you quickly shut them up, you twisted your head to the side, and without really thinking about it you opened a portal...it was another one of your abilities you rarely used, but as you were throwing people through it, the screaming stopped....they were all dead and you began to come down from your high while the portal was kept open...you fell to your knees and watched as the golden sparks from the portal started to dim....but before the portal closed completely you saw it...him...a face you hadn't seen in almost 2 years....Logan Howlett.

you felt your heart skip a beat when you both locked eyes, his expression showing just as much shock and heartache as yours, ignoring the bodies you absent mindlessly had thrown before him, in his hand held a bottle of whiskey but it soon hit the cold ground, shattering into pieces. you absent mindlessly grabbed the dog tags that hung around your neck, shooting up to your feet before calling out, "LO-" you were cut off mid-sentence as the portal closed as quickly as it was made and once again you were left alone in silence. You fell to your knees, shaking, your mind raced thinking if what you saw was just your imagination paying tricks on you...logan was dead...there was no way ....you saw him die , you saw-..."no....that's not possible" you mutter to yourself, you stared blankly at the blood riddled floor....that's when your mind began to drift to something Strange said long ago to you...how your ability was one of a kind, how with your own mind you could create portals to other worlds without a type of device...at the time you thought he was just wrong...every time you used your ability you only opened portals to other places in your world...not any others, only he had the ability to do that and even so it was with an object... or...at least you thought. "How...I don't even know wh- I don't even remember what i did .... how?" you were at a loss for words. Did you actually do it... did you open a poral to another earth, one where...Logan was still alive? you felt tears swell in the rim of your eyes, soon falling down your cheeks and onto the floor...you felt sick, crazed and as you looked around...horrible...if what you saw was real, then Logan, The man you've craved to see , the man you once loved and still do love, the man you tried saving and the man that died in your arms...is out there and just in your reach.

(I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS, THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE MORE INTERACTIONS BETWEEN BOTH CORA (THE READER) AND LOGAN. IT WILL ALSO BE FROM LOGANS POV FOR A LITTLE WHILE let me know if you guys liked it!! 🫶🏼)

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (2/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest but they were unaware children, the angst, woman on the rape pill, suicidal thoughts, therapy ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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The memory of that holiday haunted her for many years; a mixture of sadness, melancholy, regret and longing blended into one in her mind making her live in the past and present at the same time.

Although she had trouble remembering what she had been doing the day before, she remembered perfectly the expression on his face that day when Jace had taken his boxers from him – she saw the exact moment when he closed his eyes, heartbroken, and burst out sobbing like a small child.

Although he pretended to be an aloof boy who was unaffected by anything, in that moment his mask broke before her eyes showing how vulnerable he was.

The fact that he pushed her away after she helped him hurt her, but it didn't stop her from doing what she did next either.

"What is this? Are you still sleeping with the light on?" Jace asked, looking in her backpack for his book that he liked to read before bed.

She pressed her lips together, covering herself more tightly with the duvet.

"Yes." She muttered.

Jace snorted and shook his head.

"Only babies sleep with the light on. You need to get over your fear. You're already big." He said finally, unplugging her lamp, taking it with him.

"– n-no – I –" She whimpered, but her brother simply turned off the light and left her room.

"– you'll be fine –" He called out, and she hid under the duvet, panting heavily.

Her imagination always caused her clothes lying on the chair or various objects standing on the desk to remind her of disturbing, frightening shapes in the dark.

She was very afraid of them and of the fact that if she closed her eyes and just lay there, the monsters would slowly approach her until they devoured her.

She pulled the duvet slowly off her head and swallowed hard, seeing that the wardrobe was ajar, one of the long dresses spilling out of it like a glistening black ooze. She thought she heard a rustling sound and jumped when something hit the windowsill.

She thought she couldn't stand it – she burst out crying, pulled herself up and ran out of the room.

She didn't know where to go, afraid that if she complained to her mum about Jace he would later tease her even more or that worse, Rhaenyra would admit he was right.

That's why she stood in the corridor, terrified of being surrounded by darkness on all sides.

She walked to his door, knowing he would be furious, and opened it, breathing heavily – she heard him rise on his arms, his sleepy face with furrowed brows directed towards her.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled, trying to calm her breathing. "– can I sleep with you? –"

"– you must be crazy –" He said impatiently.

"– they took away my little lamp – Jace said I'm already big and I can't sleep with the light on – but I'm so scared –" She confessed with shame, feeling like all those children who wet their bed in their sleep and had to wake their parents to change their sheets.

Her uncle looked at her for a long moment before giving in, agreeing reluctantly, threatening to kill her with his own hands if anyone found out. She climbed onto his bed with relief and, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers, slept peacefully that night and all the nights that followed.

Despite his initial frustration with her daily nightly visits, he eventually allowed her to read books with him or even cuddle with him.

She noticed that the fact that she didn't tease him like her brothers did made him calmer around her and therefore, in essence, nicer.

She liked the fact that he stopped avoiding her, taking her along on his expeditions – they searched in the sand for unique treasures: old coins, unusual stones or shells, cartridges and other objects of interest.

They invented their own missions and tasks, pretending they were great explorers of ancient temples hidden under the desert sands, and dug deep holes hoping to really find something.

Usually they discovered beer bottles, however, it was all about the whole process, not the result, pretending that traps, poisonous insects or great windstorms lurked everywhere to force them to turn back from their path.

She enjoyed the way he made her feel with him as if they were characters from a book or a film: as it usually happened, although typically the partners didn't like each other at first, later they became inseparable companions, and each new day was another episode of the series in which they played leading roles.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked her one day, walking side by side with her by the sea shore – they were just returning from an expedition where she had found lots of beautiful, large shells in which she believed mermaids' songs were enchanted.

She wanted very much to be a mermaid and hoped they would help her succeed.

However, his question turned her thoughts away from the matter, making her heart beat harder in her chest.

"No. And you?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her uncle pressed his lips together, looking everywhere but at her.

"No."

They were silent for a long moment, embarrassed to be talking about such unusually adult matters.

She wondered if he wanted to ask her for advice on some amorous matter, to make her help him win the heart of the girl he secretly fancied, and she felt a twinge in her stomach at the thought.

"And would you like to have one? A boyfriend, I mean." He asked further, startling her. She blinked, looking at him with amusement.

What was he getting at with these questions?

"Well. It depends if I would like him." She said truthfully.

"Do you like me?" He muttered, and she giggled, feeling a pleasant, warm sensation spread through her heart.

"Yes."

"So?"

"What are you asking?"

She saw him press his lips together, clearly not wanting to appear a fool if there was a misunderstanding between them.

She thought she would take pity on him.

"I can be your girlfriend, but that will mean I get to hold your hand sometimes or give you a kiss." She said warmly.

Her uncle looked at her, his eyes shining in hope, embarrassment and disbelief. He hummed, pondering her words, terrified and excited at the same time.

"…but only when we're alone." He muttered.

"Alright."

Later that night he kissed her for the first time and did so repeatedly for many days afterwards.

His lips were pleasant to the touch, warm and moist, his hands touching her face full of delicacy and tenderness.

Years later, she realised that their kisses were a simple pressing of one lips against the other, without finesse or tongues, the way one would kiss an aunt or a mother on the cheek. There was nothing ambiguous about them – it was just that adults did it too, and it made them both feel more mature.

And then he came to her, pale, and although they had arranged another trip, neither of them had gone to the beach that day.

"– I'm breaking up with you –"

She shook her head, feeling her heart stop for a moment.

"– but –"

"– you're my niece – you can't be my girlfriend – sleep with your brother or your mum tonight –"

She blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling the cold sweat on her back, her throat squeezed tight while her eyes filled with burning tears of disappointment.

He had deceived her, used her, played with her to frustrate her brothers.

And then Luke hit him on the head with a bottle, and its shards smashed into his face. As Aemond and Alicent drove to the hospital, her grandfather, Viserys told her mother to return home.

"– it was an unfortunate accident, but it would be better if you left sooner – your presence will only make things worse, Alicent needs to cool off –" He said, her brother, Luke, as she did, sat on the couch and was shaking, whooping with tears.

Despite her desperate pleas and her attempt to escape, her parents locked her in the car saying it was better that way and drove off, without goodbye, without explanation, without compensation.

All the way home she cried, clutching in her hand a piece of paper with his phone number on it, which she found slipped under the door of her room that same morning.

She spent the next few weeks pretty much just crying and sleeping, refusing to eat or drink, feeling that her life was over before it really began.

The boy who broke her heart had been hurt by her family and she didn't know how she was ever going to look him in the face at the family table again.

It turned out that her mother had simply only been in contact with her grandfather from then on, saying that perhaps it would be better that way.

That maybe this would separate them from this world.

At the time, she didn't understand what she meant.

The first text message she sent him was when she overheard her brothers talking, saying that her uncle would now have an artificial eye like a terminator.

The sense of guilt and regret that he was left alone with this didn't give her peace that night, and although she hadn't slept with the light on for a long time, she liked to imagine with her eyes closed that he was lying next to her.

It calmed her down.

She took her phone in her hand, chose his number in her contacts and began to text everything that was on her heart.

But he never wrote her back even though she sent him hundreds of messages: ones about her daily life, what she was doing, reading or listening to.

She send him Christmas and birthday wishes, asked about his health, how he was doing at school, but never got any response from him.

Many times she thought about calling him, but she still kept the card he had left her, which said under his number:

CALL ONLY IN A LIFE-THREATENING EMERGENCY.

She was afraid that if she called him saying that she simply missed him, she would anger him even more. Her parents no longer spent Christmas with his family, and after her father was shot dead, presumably for trying to escape the mafia life, she completely broke down.

Her mother decided to send her to therapy when she started high school.

She remembered clearly the smell of that clinic and the doctor who sat in front of her: a middle-aged man with round glasses on his nose, his voice calm and quiet, full of patience and understanding.

All around them were plants in pots and it made her feel a little cosier.

"Tell me about the friend you mentioned to me on your last visit." He started and she pressed her lips together, feeling cold sweat on her back and discomfort in her chest.

She was afraid to tell him what they had done, who he was.

She was afraid of his appraising gaze, of the fact that he would think she was disgusting.

"He was… my uncle."

The doctor corrected his glasses on his nose, intrigued and concerned at the same time.

"How old was he then?"

"He's two years older than me."

"Oh. I see." The man smiled, as if with a kind of relief that surprised her. She grunted quietly, twisting in her seat.

"He really is my uncle. My mother's brother from the second marriage."

"I understand, however, your age has surely made you treat each other more like cousins. Am I wrong?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"No."

"You said that when your brother took your lamp, he let you sleep in his bed. Something happened then?" He continued and she shook her head, horrified at what he might have implied.

"N-no. I… we just slept next to each other. Sometimes I'd cuddle up to his arm or his back when I was scared. It made him angry that I was coming to him, but he felt sorry for me."

The man nodded in understanding and smiled.

"You felt safe with him."

"Yes." She confessed with shame, looking down at her hands, feeling her heart in her throat.

"Are you two still friends? Are you two supportive of each other?"

She pressed her lips together, feeling tears burning under her eyelids, unable to get the words out for a moment.

She couldn't even look him in the eye.

"No."

"Why? What happened?"

"He lost his eye because of my brother."

"Does he blame you for that?"

"No…I mean. God." She muttered, burying her face in her hands, feeling like she was about to vomit or pass out.

This had been weighing on her heart for too long.

She needed to confide in someone.

"He, during that holiday… he asked if I would become his girlfriend. We kissed. Fuck! I didn't know about it, neither of us knew we shouldn't do it! That it was wrong, that we were too closely related." She exhaled with difficulty, finally bursting out crying, feeling hot, overpowering shame flowing in waves through her body.

The doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"How long were you two together?" He asked.

She wiped her red cheeks with her palm, trying to calm and focus.

"A few days. Maybe a week."

"Why did you stop being together?"

"Because he broke up with me. He told me we couldn't be together." She mumbled, feeling like a complete idiot. "It wasn't until later that I realised what he'd found out, what incest was and what we'd done."

"There is a seeker nature in children. They watch adults and want to behave like them. Until their parents introduce them to the rules of the world it seems to them that the world doesn't have them. Even more so when it comes to social norms. Neither you nor your friend knew at the time that such relationships were not universally accepted. Up to that point you were family to each other, but also girlfriend and boyfriend. Looking at a child's decisions from an adult's perspective is ineffective."

He explained, making her, for some reason, feel better. She looked at him and shook her head.

"It's just… he was close to me. He was a good looking boy. He was kind to me. I felt safe with him. He didn't want to take advantage of me, I know that."

"So why are you creating a situation in your mind that what you did was the result of your premeditation when neither of you knew then what you know now?"

He asked, and she remained silent, not knowing what to answer him.

"It's just… ever since then I've felt a constant, heavy, overwhelming shame, crushing me like a stone." She muttered without strength, feeling that she had probably expressed the core of her feelings in this.

The man nodded at her words.

"It's natural. Shame accompanies us as a regulator of decency in our lives. I once read about a theory that God, when he banished Adam and Eve from paradise, did not make them bare: they were like that, they just realised their nakedness, and original sin made them feel shame for the first time. It is shame and fear of punishment that make us not walk naked in the street, that we guard our intimacy."

On the bus ride home, she reflected deeply on his words, feeling as if she had awoken, as if her senses had sharpened, allowing her to see the world again as it was.

She realised that all her life she had been punishing herself for feeling something for him and that it felt good, even though some part of her was telling her that she should be disgusted with herself.

She decided to forgive herself.

She felt much better and even started dating, trying to forget what had happened, to create a relationship that wasn't stigmatised.

Although she was smiling, she resented herself for looking at those boys, hearing the sound of the sea in the back of her head, his voice coming to her as if from afar.

I'm afraid of monsters too.

Everything changed when one day she received a message that made her heart stop.

She had no idea what she should be thinking: only a year after her father's death, her mother had begun dating Daemon, who had at first frightened her, and although Rhaenyra had said she wanted to end with the mafia half-world, the man she had married shortly afterwards had drawn them even deeper into it.

Daemon was an unpredictable and dangerous man, but loyal to his principles, his family and above all – her mother.

In some strange way, incomprehensible to her, they truly loved each other.

What she appreciated about his character was that he gave her and her brothers a choice: he said he did not intend to condemn them to sink into his world, but if they chose to go their own way, they were to devote themselves to study and education.

She and Luke chose to study, but Jace, to her and her mother's despair, wanted to be like him.

They eventually moved into his large house on the outskirts of the city together with his daughters from his first marriage – at first it was quite strange and awkward, even more so when they ate all together, but then Baela and Rhaena opened up to her, becoming, in her eyes, part of her family.

Daemon could sense when she was lying: he would then look at her with furrowed brows and say that he wanted to talk to her in private, which always made her heart pound like crazy with fear.

She was genuinely scared of him.

"I know you're hiding something inside. I can feel it and I don't like the fact that you're not being honest with me." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette, standing with her in the garden.

She lowered her gaze, pale, not knowing what to answer him.

"I won't play your father, but I can see that you are lost. You isolate yourself, you rarely see your friends, you're still studying. You're trying to wait out your youth instead of living it and you'll regret it one day."

She couldn't describe how much his words hurt her.

They hurt her because he saw right through her and described her life in a few simple words.

You're trying to wait out your youth instead of living it.

It sounded better than the thought that she had no desire to live at all.

She felt that something had been missing inside her since that holiday, some part of her heart had been ripped out and thrown into the sea, and she felt defective, her interior filled with an emptiness.

Despite being surrounded by many people, she was lonely.

For a long time she wondered what to make of the message she had received: its tone made it seem as if there was something she and her siblings had not been told about her father's death.

She feared it was some sort of mafia hijacking, a trap for Daemon and one of her brothers – she decided she would tell Baela where she was going so that if she didn't return someone would start looking for her.

"Heavenly Beach? It's a dangerous place. I'll go with you." She said, concerned.

"No. I was supposed to come alone. It's just… if I'm not back by three o'clock wake up Daemon and tell him where I am."

"Do you have your pocket knife?"

"Yes."

She told Daemon and her mother that she was going to a friend's for a sleepover: the frustrated look on her stepfather's face told her that he didn't believe her, but apparently even he, knowing her nature, didn't suspect what she wanted to do.

Heavenly Beach belonged to his rival.

To her father's brother, Larys Strong.

She arrived by taxi, surprised at how large crowds stood waiting to enter the club. She wondered if she should wait in line with them, but after a while her phone vibrated and she got another message from an unknown number.

So she did, and the broad, bulky man told her to open her backpack and show him what she had inside.

She thanked God that she had hidden her pocket knife in her bra.

The man nodded for her to follow him and together they went down the stairs to the underground consisting of several large rooms in which music was booming, the flashing coloured lights around her made her feel as if she had gone blind. She swallowed hard, spotting her uncle in one of the VIP boxes.

Larys Strong had indeed greeted her with a bouquet of roses.

The thought that he was the one she would be talking to reassured her, and that was her mistake.

"I'm very glad you came. Sit down, please." He said softly, his smile warm and welcoming while his hand pointed to the other side of the couch, a safe distance away. She smiled too and sat down where he indicated to her, sighing in relief.

"Forgive me for only contacting you now, but this matter keeps me awake. I know you are the most cautious of your siblings, which is why I preferred not to take the risk and invite your brothers. I fear they would take it badly and it could lead to some…complications." He said, making her feel an unpleasant squeeze in her stomach.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll get to that in a moment. But first, let's order something to drink. Would you like a vodka and coke?" He asked, and she shook her head quickly.

"No, thank you, I don't want anything." She muttered.

Larys nodded at a man standing nearby, who approached him after a moment.

"Ned, get me a whisky and a glass of water for this young lady." He said calmly. The man nodded and disappeared after a moment, heading towards the large bar behind her.

"Back on topic: I am in a very difficult situation. Unfortunately, the person who was involved in his death is also a close associate of mine, which makes everything very complicated. However, I believe that my brother deserves for at least one of his children to know the truth." He said, getting serious suddenly, and she listened to him in suspense, horrified.

"Otto Hightower ordered his murder. Harwin was still snooping around, looking for hooks on them, even thinking of co-operating with the police."

She stared at him dully, feeling a complete void in her mind.

Otto Hightower had ordered his murder.

What?

As the man placed a glass of water in front of her and a whisky in front of her uncle her mind was in a state of complete panic. It made her forget what Daemon and her father had always told her.

Never drink anything that has not been poured into a glass in your presence.

"Easy. I know this is difficult for you. You have to be careful with these people, they are dangerous. Drink some water, it will help." He said, and for some reason she listened to him, grabbing the glass, taking a few deep sips from it, feeling that she was trembling all over from nerves.

Viserys's associate was her father's murderer.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" She muttered, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling strange, as if her head was spinning.

"You have to be careful. Anyone who enters this world once will never leave it again. Don't try to cooperate with the police." He replied with a smile, his tone slightly changed, as if what he saw before him and her reaction pleased him.

It seemed to her that the music around her had begun to quiet, as if it was coming from far away, she tried to focus her thoughts but was unable to.

The cold sweat of terror and fear ran down her neck as she realised what had happened.

What she had done.

"I'm sorry, I feel sick from what I heard. I'm going to go… to the toilet." She muttered, getting up from her seat with difficulty and walked ahead towards the sign she could see from afar.

She was dizzy as if she had drunk ten shots, the burning tears of despair making her barely see where she was going.

The light in the bathroom almost blinded her – she locked herself in one of the cabins and slumped to her knees, breathing heavily, pulling her phone out of her backpack, thinking with horror that if she called Daemon and Jace and they raised hell in here, they might shoot them.

She needed to call someone they wouldn't hurt and then it dawned on her.

Aemond.

Call only in a life-threatening emergency.

The screen of her phone seemed blurry to her as she struggled to type in her code and began searching for his number in her contacts. When she finally saw his name she clicked on it and put the phone to her ear, leaning her head against the wall, feeling the cold tiles under her buttocks, the female voices coming from behind the door seemed to her to be just a dream.

"– please – please, please, please –" She muttered, hearing that there was a signal, that he hadn't thrown or blocked that card.

She swallowed hard when the sound silenced and she heard a noise on the other side.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled in a trembling voice feeling tears of terror, helplessness and fear run down her face, her body numb and heavy.

"– what is it? –" She heard his voice, cold and matter-of-fact, and although he sounded very different from when they were children, a wave of heat and a familiar, pleasant sensation she hadn't felt in years ran through her body.

"– G-God – they must have – they must have put something into my drink –" She cried out, bursting into sobs, thinking about the fact that she was about to lose consciousness and they would do whatever they wanted to her and her body.

Daemon warned her.

Never lie to me.

"– what? – fuck – where are you? –" She heard his voice as if in the distance.

She furrowed her brow, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to, where she was, and what she wanted to do.

"– Rhaenys – focus – fucking speak to me –"

"– I – mmm – I don't know – I think... – ...I think I'm in the toilet –" She muttered finally, looking around her thinking that indeed, this room looked like a toilet.

She felt that she was very tired and just wanted to sleep.

"– in what toilet? – in the club? –" He asked further, his voice sounding as if he was furious.

She closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath, feeling her mind drifting away and remembered that she had seen palm trees before entering this place.

"– yes – in the... – ...club – like... – ...one... – ...with palm trees –" She muttered, and then her mind enveloped in complete darkness.

She thought she felt the touch of someone's hand, heard someone's voice, but she wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality.

When she woke up, she was blinded by the light – she hissed and covered her face, only realising after a moment that she was lying in her bed, in Daemon's house. When she turned her face she saw her stepfather sitting in a chair, looking at her with eyes she knew well.

He was furious.

"I asked you. I thought you were a smarter girl, but you are clearly just a plain, naive idiot." He hissed, as usual saying exactly what he was thinking.

She pressed her lips together, feeling pain in her heart at his words, realising that she had a huge black hole in her memory.

"What happened?"

"You called Aemond. They could have raped you there, and instead of calling me you called the person who could have helped them." He scoffed, raising his voice, annoyed.

"He was here?"

"And how do you think you got here? That you were brought here by a fairy?" He sneered, and she swallowed hard, looking at him with wide eyes.

Even though she should have felt horror at what had happened to her, all she could think about was feeling his hand, hearing his voice.

And then she remembered.

His voice.

His words.

You don't even know how many real monsters lurk in its shadows.

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

a/n: Eddie x fem!Reader. It’s been a while. Thank you all so much for bearing with me. This is a purely self-indulgent blurb/fic. Not beta read. Inspired after author watched Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

warnings: oral, penetration, dom/sub undertones if you squint, edging, reader with a vagina, Eddie being a little shit. I think that’s it! As always, please DM me if I missed anything.

October 31st, 1996 - 10:25pm

The candy had been eaten, scares given, and costumes put away for another year. You had gladly been on candy duty for a majority of the evening at the community centre, giving out treats, facilitating games for the little ones, and telling ghost stories to enraptured ten year olds who hung off your every word.

As for Eddie, he was running a DnD one-shot for the teens down the hallway. Occasionally you could hear raucous laughter and some profanities spew from the din. It brought a smile to your face knowing that he could still command a room like he had not-so-many years ago at Hawkins High.

But now, you’re home. In your shared apartment. Your legs are on his lap, while you balance a bowl of popcorn on yours. Your eyes are glued to the screen, watching as Dana Barrett and Louis Tully embrace, kissing passionately, the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper reunited at long last.

Your periphery catches movement as Eddie’s hand reaches for the popcorn before landing squarely (purposefully) on your thigh. You rip your attention from the TV to lift a curious brow at him, only to be met with a smirk. “Something on your mind, handsome?”

He croons, smirk growing to a full blown smile. “A few things, yeah,” Eddie admits, hand inching a little higher, “just thinkin’ about how killer you’d look in that dress.” He nods back to the screen, referring to the gown Dana’s wearing.

“You think I can pull that off?” You scoff.

“Sweetheart, you can pull off a god damn trash bag.”

“I’m not Sigourney Weaver, Eddie.”

“She’s got nothing on you.” He tugs the bowl from out of your grasp, placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention. Leaning over, he cages you in, forcing you full on your back against the couch. Eddie’s lips brush against yours, silently asking for permission, with a small peck against his, he surges against you like a man trying to quench his thirst. His hands are everywhere, as are yours, a whirlwind of disregarded clothes find themselves unceremoniously on the floor, but you’re both too distracted to care.

“You looked so hot in that witch’s outfit, babe. Was hard to keep it together tonight.” He latches on to the space where shoulder meets neck, sucking in a bruise.

“Y-you looked pretty hand - fuck - handsome yourself. The eyeliner, the fake-fangs, like something out of The Lost Boys, Christ, Ed’s.”

“Mhm. You like a bad boy, don’t ya, sweets?” Lathing the spot with the flat of his tongue. You shudder, eyes rolling back a little, losing yourself - did he say something? He nips at your skin and you gasp. “I asked you a question.”

“Could - could you repeat the - ah - shit - you’re distracting me, Munson.” You pout.

“Am I?” He looks at you with those big brown eyes, all faux-innocence and one-hundred percent mischief. “My bad.”

“Asshole.”

Eddie chuckles softly, “Guilty as charged. Now, are you gonna let me continue being a distraction or…?”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Yes.”

You cum three times. First, on his tongue. And he makes you work for it, pay back for calling him an asshole. He lifts you higher and higher then pulls his affections away, leaving fluttery kisses around your clit before he starts again. He does this four times until you’re nearly sobbing. It’s a rather messy affair when he finally lets you cum, snapping like a taut wire, and gushing all over him.

Still dazed and trembling from the power of your orgasm, he pulls a second with practiced fingers. Playing you like he plays his guitar, making you sing into the howling night. You’re begging for his cock now, begging to cream all over it, but he shushes you as he works in a fourth digit. You arch your back clear off the couch like a woman possessed, you cum harder than you have in your life.

Or so you thought.

When Eddie eases into you, it’s the closest thing to heaven you can imagine. He stretches you and fills you just right, the piercing on the tip of his cock finding that spot only he knows how to he reach. He presses his forehead to yours, muttering to keep your eyes on him. And you do, because how could you possibly look away? Not only does he fuck you like tonight is the last night on Earth, he makes love to you as if you’re the only two people left on the planet. Slow, self-assured, comforting, everything else dissolves around you. You cum so hard you see stars. Your lungs burn, robbed of air, as you clench and cream and gush. He empties into you with such a guttural groan of relief at the exact same moment, sweat beading his beautiful brow. He pumps, once, twice, a third time, then lays on top of you, satiated, dipping his head a little to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“You absolute menace.” You tease, with an exhausted smile, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“What can I say? Bustin’ makes me feel good, baby.”

[steddielations]

Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.

There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”

One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back. 

Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.

Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.

He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.

Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.

“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.” 

“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. 

“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”

Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too. 

“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.” 

Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.

“Eddie…” 

“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.” 

With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.

“Hey, It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.

Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”

That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort. 

He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.

“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.” 

“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”