#with all these 'always connected' and 'cloud' bullshit

[kn96artworks]

switched from libreoffice to wps because reasons

i'm a bit more used to wps layout (i have it on my phone) but now it won't stop messing up the text formatting when i copy paste text from somewhere else eg ao3 😢 i can only either paste them exactly as how they appear on the webpage or with formatting removed. tried the 'match current format' option and i still lost the formatting

why do microsoft gotta have to be such a bitch

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 56.5 || The Alternate End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & a tinge of fluff.

[ { A/N } ] ➤ This is also the last chapter. Also, please note that you can't read this ending without the official one as they go together. (Here)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——ANOTHER TWO MONTHS OF peace is what you experience after the burning of the journal. When you went home that day, you found yourself having this bittersweet emotion in your heart for Gojo.

Sure, you’d miss him in some weird twisted way but, at least you were both happy going your separate ways. Truly happy. Seeing as you went out of your way to ask Geto to keep you updated on Gojo’s mental health every now and then, the man didn’t lie when he told you he was happy because, well, he was.

Geto told you how Gojo walks around like a thousand tons of weight have been lifted off of his shoulders and you were beyond relieved to hear that.

As for you, well, you were ecstatic every day because you had a boyfriend who constantly put your mind at ease and a smile on your face. Just as you surprise him from time to time, he reciprocates with gifts every now and then— oftentimes he would purchase roses for you, always purple and always beautifully arranged for you.

He was the best boyfriend you could’ve ever asked for and you can’t imagine yourself ever wishing for anything or anyone more. Nothing could ruin your peace with Choso Kamo.

Or so you thought…

At the end of the day, why would you have feared anything when all the threats to your relationship were gone? Choso knew you’d slept with Sukuna, he knew you’d seen multiple other guys, and he knew you’d fallen for another man at one point so, how could things have come to… this?

With your back quite literally up against the wall, eyes angled fairly upward at a man who’s just told you such incriminating information you’ll never know what to do with, you’ve never been more scared in your life.

Should you have seen this coming? Was there any way for you to prevent this?

This ruins everything. Everything that was once confusing no longer clouded your mind as the words recently spoken to you hung heavily in the air.

Why now? Why is it that you have to experience this now?

You didn’t need to know this. Maybe Gojo was right all along— perhaps it was better you stay in the dark because you don’t want to face this reality.

This meant so much. Everything was a lie. Or, almost everything was a lie? Too many questions would come to you and it felt like you had so little time to find answers because all the answers were there— the dots were all connecting and everything, unfortunately, made sense.

Damn you Gojo Satoru. He truly is the bane of your existence, the headache you could never get rid of and the heartache you didn’t fucking ask for. 

You were happy. You and Choso were happy but now that can’t continue, can it? Not with the information you just received, no.

That bullshit happy ending you thought you earned had crumbled right before your very eyes— all because of one little conversation and one simple sentence.

Damnit Choso, of all gas stations he could’ve stopped at, it had to be here. Here where you run into someone whom you’d rather walk on legos than speak to…

It could go so bad, so very bad. Because why does he know? Why does he choose to tease you about dating Choso? Shit could get ugly all too quickly, all he’d have to do is walk out the door and approach your boyfriend.

But then again, all of this chaos was unexpected. One should probably start from the beginning.

Well, not the actual beginning, that’ll be received another time. Instead, the beginning of this cursed interaction.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It was summertime-, the month of June to be specific. You and Choso have been dating for a total of four lovely months.

The moment summer kicked off, you and Choso were with each other twenty-four-seven, a completely inseparable pair.

And it’s with this boyfriend of yours that you planned to go on a little road trip with for roughly a week. It was supposed to be this cute thing that you guys did to start your summer off.

He’d saved up some money and so had you, especially after you’d long since finally gotten that paid internship of yours-, which was heavenly by the way. The pay was better than the average job and all you had to do was be this cute campus therapist.

In all honesty, you got lucky since you knew a decent amount of professors who helped you land this internship. But, all that aside, the plan now was to spend the first week of summer with your boyfriend on the road.

And the start of said trip was wonderful, you two had driven to the next state over so, of course, you weren’t expecting anything to occur the way it did…

He stopped at a gas station to fill up, y’know, nothing unusual. It was hot and you wanted to grab snacks for the road, more than you already had— a decision you’d come to later regret as you truly had more than enough snacks in the car.

But, your greediness got the better of you and you were telling Choso you’d be right back with a small wave to him before skipping your way inside the station.

You had on some shorts and yet another one of Choso’s sweatshirts, a relaxed expression plastered over your features as you entered the store. There were quite a few people inside but you paid no mind to most of them, simply wanting to grab your desired snacks and head back to your boyfriend as soon as possible.

There was some song stuck in your head so you were humming that to yourself as you dipped down one of the isles, the gas station being rather large and the selection of food items being more than you were expecting.

Your eyes lit up as you spotted something yummy and leaned down to grab it, the buzz of your phone making you halt as you redirected your focus to that. Choso had texted you and told you to grab him some chips, to which you liked his message, and went back to your selection.

There was so much to choose from but you had half a mind to just get everything, especially since Choso gave you his card and never really cared how much you spent on it.

He was such a hard worker and you adored him for it. Ever since the whole thing where he realized his competition was rather wealthy Choso has been working like crazy to be able to spoil you as he once said he wished he could.

Hell, around your wrist right now was the bracelet he’d gotten you the day he asked you if he could be your boyfriend— the item turning out to be rather pricey as it's adorned in pretty expensive jewels.

You told the man that money isn’t the way into your heart and that you’d love him even if he didn’t buy a bunch of stuff for you but, he doesn’t really listen and spoils you anyways. However, when you remind him that he needs a certain financial standpoint in order to one day win custody over Yuji, he does relax on his spending.

So, as you stand here wondering what snacks you want, you do come to the conclusion of just swiping up everything you want. 

Happily humming to yourself, you grab item after item before you receive yet another text. Sighing, you shove most of the items under your arm in an awkward hold to check your phone and it’s just another text from your boyfriend. This time he asked you to get him something to drink.

Then, he followed that text by offering his help, to which you told him you got it. Later, you’d grow thankful for such a decision.

Somewhere through your shopping, you swipe up a basket, surprised there even were any as you dump all your items inside. The last few things you needed to grab were the drinks so you headed to the back of the gas station where all the cold stuff was located.

Choso had requested something rather specific but you skimmed over it so, you had to pull your phone back out to see what exactly he said again. With the device in one hand and the basket in the other, your eyes were downward as you walked and a light yelp left your lips when you walked right into someone.

Your forehead bumped into someone’s back and fuck was their physique rock solid. It was okay that you ran into them at first but then, your body went rigid before you even looked up. This scent just flooded your nose, a scent that was accompanied with memories— the sudden thoughts bringing fear to your heart as you looked up. This person’s cologne reminded you of Sukuna…

But, when you laid eyes on black hair, you realized you had nothing to worry about. Sighing in relief, “Sorry,” You hum sweetly.

A chuckle. A sickening familiar chuckle hits your ears and that’s when you bat your eyelashes, recognizing the familiar markings that decorate the lower half of his neck, leading down to other parts of his body you’d once explored.

Oh. It seems your assumption wasn���t wrong at all. This is, in fact, the man you thought it was as he begins to turn to you and frighteningly familiar maroon-shaded eyes snap down to your smaller frame.

Your breathing picked up and you nearly dropped the basket in your hands in pure shock. It was like something out of a fucking movie the way Sukuna stood before you, a terrifyingly attractive smile spreading across his face as he’d recognized you by the sound of your voice before laying eyes on you.

“Well,” He begins, his voice putting you in an immediate daze as you recall so many regretful moments with this man, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart-,”

“Don’t fucking call me that,”  You spat immediately, sucking in a deep some of air into your lungs and attempting to stand your ground.

Sukuna arches a brow and your eyes shift up slightly to study how he’s dyed his hair black and how it’s grown out a bit more in certain places. Damn the way he’s still painfully attractive, not that you were checking him out of course, but still.

A scoff leaves his lips, the same ones you regret ever placing your own upon, “Oh, she’s feisty now?” He snickers, “To what do I owe the pleasure of you being so upset with me for? Hm?”

Sukuna turns to face you and tips his upper half closer to you, the action making you stumble back a bit.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you scowl, “Don’t act all confused and innocent you abusive piece of shit,” You snap, a mix of disgust and anger vexed onto your once calm expression.

Sukuna seems taken aback by your words, eyebrows raising and shock taking over his expression. Certainly, he hadn’t heard you correctly just now? It takes him a long moment to process what the fuck you just said to him. 

His eye twitches as he gathers all the necessary information in his head, “I see,” Sukuna hums lowly, “So he told you, huh?”

“Obviously,” You huff before moving to step past him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have no reason to be speaking with you right now-“

His bulky arm extends outward to his side, blocking you from walking past him and forcing you to come to an abrupt halt in your steps. “I wonder… Did you tell him?” Sukuna questions vaguely.

With an annoyed groan, you turn your head to him, “Tell him what?”

“That you’re a whore who’s fucked his brother,” Sukuna clarifies, voice dropping lower and his words coming off harsher.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “Yeah, he knows, I told him.”

You weren’t even surprised Sukuna knew you were dating Choso— hell, by now, nearly everyone knew. After all, despite Choso being rather shy, he’s more well-known than he cares to admit.

“Hah,” Sukuna scoffs, “And he’s still with you?”

“Of course he is,” You reply, tone cold, “Now, if you’re done bothering me with such a meaningless conversation, I’d like to leave.”

“See, that’s the thing, sweetheart,” Sukuna voices out slowly before leaning to your ear, “I’m not done.”

You’re repulsed by his sudden closeness, “What else is there for us to talk about? Okay we had sex one time, that’s in the past and I’m dating your step-brother now, literally what else is there for you to say to me-“

“Y’know, you’re so much more entertaining than I initially thought you’d be,” He claims suddenly, smirking a bit, “If only you’d agreed to be my weekly fuck— life would be sooo fun right now.”

You blink in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about, Sukuna?”

“I mean,” He leans away from you suddenly and lets out that wicked laugh of his, “Don’t get me wrong, the list was fun but it would’ve been so-“

“The what?” You cut off, chills running down your spine in reaction to what he just brought up.

Sukuna cocks a brow and steps past your now still frame, “Did I stutter? I said the list was fun.”

“What list, Sukuna?” You breathe out as he walks behind you, entering the aisle to your left.

“Oh y’know,” He shrugs as he casually reaches for a bag of chips, “The F*ck List,” He quotes. “That’s the name you guys decided on, no?” Sukuna asks all too casually as if he didn’t reveal that he not only knows about the list but also the name you and Gojo had explicitly shared between only each other.

Did Gojo tell Sukuna about it? Why would he do that? What the hell-

Sukuna starts laughing and it makes you flinch because he’s suddenly close to you again, lips near your ear, “Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” Sukuna taunts.

Sweat has built up along your skin and your heart is pounding as questions flood your brain. Why does Sukuna know about the list? Why is he bringing it up right now? How long has he known about it? Is this a part of the secret Gojo’s been keeping from you?

Was it never just Gojo from the beginning but two people conspiring that sick and twisted game for you? What-

The sound of Sukuna snapping his fingers makes you jump yet again, “Oh don’t get distracted now. What happened to all that anger of yours? All that confidence?”

You gulp, “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about Sukuna, but-“

“Oh please don’t lie about this, you’ll only make it all the more difficult for yourself,” Sukuna warns suddenly before walking past your still frozen body and heading toward the nearby fridge, “Instead, if you have questions, ask. I’m not Gojo, I’ll actually answer them.”

Heavy breaths leave your lips and you’re almost too frightened to speak, “H-How… W-Why do you-“

“Ahhh, hear that?” Sukuna cuts off, smiling so happily at the tremble in your tone, “That, sweetheart, is the sweet sound of fear.”

You gulp, “Sukuna, how the fuck do you know about the list?”

He tuts and shakes his head, “Now now, if you want answers,” Swiveling back around to approach you, Sukuna walks slowly toward you before leaning his face to yours and backing you up against a nearby wall, “You’ll talk to me nicely, got it?”

Your upper lip twitches in annoyance, “Fuck you.”

“I’m not sure your boyfriend would be too happy hearing you ask me to do such a thing,” Sukuna taunts.

“Answer my damn question, asshole,” You spit out.

He scoffs, “Either you fix your fucking tone with me or you’ll end up right where this all started.”

“What?” You huff out, confused.

“I’m sure the school would love to see their little therapist fucking herself like the desperate whore she is, wouldn’t they?” Sukuna threatens with a tilt of his head.

Is he… Is he referring to the initial video that caused this whole mess? Your eyes widen like crazy and you could feel your hands trembling slightly, “W-What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Let’s not act all innocent now,” Sukuna hums, “You know what I’m talking about but if you want to test me, I can have it sent to everyone you know and love before you even have time to process it.”

A shaky exhale leaves your throat, “O-Okay, fine. What… What do you want from me now, Sukuna?”

“Oh?” He smirks, “I don’t want anything from you now, sweetheart. You’ve completed your task,” Sukuna claims as he stands straight up but steps even closer to you, his body practically pressing against yours, “Although, you did have a question for me, yes?”

Your mind is a mess and you nearly forgot what the hell your question to him was since you have so many. It takes a second or two but you soon recall, “Yeah… How… How do you know about the list?” You ask timidly.

There it is again, that wicked and all-knowing smile. A sinister expression is plastered across Sukuna’s features and he cackles, “How do I know about the list, you ask?”

An arm is raised to the wall, right beside your head as Sukuna leans down so that his face is right in front of yours, his lips practically on yours due to how close he forced himself. You were worried to even breathe too hard, the tight proximity threatening the very fabric of your relationship with how one wrong move could lead to Sukuna’s lips on yours.

“Sweetheart,” Sukuna whispers so softly, so chillingly, “I know about the list because… well…”

His eyes meet your fearful ones and you blink in anticipation. The words that leave his lips have your breath caught in your throat and your heart on edge.

Sukuna simply tilts his head and his breath caresses your lips as he whispers, “I made it.”

mlist || official ending || extras || sequel

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[satrs]

WICKED GAMES. @Gojo.satoru

SYNOPSIS; Satoru Gojo is your nemesis - vise versa. Or so you thought.

FEATURING; Virgin!Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

WK; 4k.

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! college au. richhhh Gojo. enemies to lovers. insulting. gojo hurts readers feelings with insults, vise versa. clothed grinding. unprotected sex. virginity loss. prn with plot.

"And who exactly invited you here?"

It's loud, thick air from the crowded space not too far away from where you're trying to escape the loud music blasting in your ear drums, head throbbing in pain, only to increase due to the annoying and unexpected - obstacle on your way to the restroom.

Your brows crinkle in irritation at the young man's question, flashing him a look of disgust. "That's none of your business." Your eyes drill holes into his skull, clicking your tongue at his attitude. "Can you move out the fucking way?", you ask rather rhetorical, irritated, you try to stomp past him, only to be hindered by his large frame hovering above you, his intimidating aura drowning out the loud chatting and music in the background, heart thumping in your chest as you struggle to hold eye contact, eyes flickering from his to the wall right beside you, gritting your teeth in annoyance.

He looks you up and down, tongue pocking the inside of his cheek. "It's my business since you're in my house."

You scoff, a sly smirk creeping its way up your lips. "Your house? If I'm not mistaken, Suguru lives here. Rings a bell? Geto Suguru, the host of this party? Also, the one who invited me here?"

"Suguru, Satoru, same shit. What's his is mine. So, again, what in Christ's name are you doing in my house?"

Your anger only grows, rumbling up a storm inside your stomach. Who the hell does he think he is? 'What's his is mine'? Fucking bullshit. "Look, I know that you two are friends-"

"Best friends", he interrupts, a vein on his forehead almost popping out of rage. Your patience is hanging onto a thing fucking threat at this point, playing out multiple ways to beat this bastard's ass up in your mind.

"The best of friends", you mock him, eyes closing for a second to regain your composer. "Whatever, I don't give a shit. Suguru and I also happened to be friends, and he invited me here. Out of kindness, I came." You pause, scanning his posture for any slight sign of comfort to make your escape, the idea soon turning into a cloud of smoke at his focused expression, his whole attention focused solely on you. "I've tried to avoid you all night. But you're stuck to my ass like a tick."

You make sure to spit out the last word, making sure he heard it loud and clear.

"I didn't ask who invited you, I asked why, the fuck, you are here."

"Now, I swear to God, Gojo. You better know what's best for you and get. Out. Of my way."

Satoru Gojo.

You hate the taste his name left in your mouth, and you hate the sight of him. That's why you refused to attend to this shitty frat party so many times. But your friend, who also happens to be Gojo's childhood buddy, begged and pleaded, until you eventually caved in.

You know how much this party means to him. Tying new connections to various people around the area, show of status, maybe even get a taste of some hot thing. All of that high top stuff.

You're not into that kind of lifestyle, showing off money and throwing it around as if it grew on trees, especially as a college student. Most students who attend this shit-show treat their academic success was careless and straight up foolish - running around to be a part of the 'high society' on the campus, while their tuition fees light up into red numbers.

One of the many reasons you hate Satoru Gojo is exactly that. His reputation. He is, how other students would say, part of the 'high society' - got his tuition fees covered by the wealth of his parents, grades never good, but after some sweet-talk with his professor, he surprisingly passes all of his classes with flying colors. One way or the other, he gets what he wants. He always does.

He is the definition of 'money can buy anything'.

But it's not the money alone, it's his attitude of his that just has you ball your hands into a fist.

Not one day goes past without him rubbing his wealth under everyone's noses. It didn't matter who it was, he was going to show them that he was better than them, richer, stronger.

He is the strongest.

Even though he never offended you directly, his distant glares and arrogant looks were enough for you to develop the hatred you have towards him. He always looked down on everyone he talked to, if they manage to even get him to pay attention to them, that is.

You really didn't want to even see him at this party, not attempting to ruin your mood with someone like him. So, you had to avoid him at all cost. In the end you figured, it wouldn't hurt to attend a party again, enjoying the company of others more than usual in your full-scheduled student life, escaping the never ending cycle for even just a little bit of fun. Also, the chance of running into him in such a massive house was slim. Until now.

You wish you could just kill him right here, that's how deep your hatred is seated. His feelings are mutual.

It's not like he ever paid attention to your presence, hell, he didn't even know you existed until you were all up in his business, always having a remark ready when he said anything to anyone. Yeah, he can be a bit mean at times, but it's nothing harsh, just jokes. They all know, for sure.

At first, he thought you're cute, and you still are, being honest. Gorgeous even. Maybe even the prettiest girl he's ever seen. But only if you keep that damned mouth of yours shut.

He can't stand your constant sense of justice, bugging him with issues someone like him could never even bother himself with. Babbling nonsense of 'fairness' and 'inequality' when he just supports the economy. Some, with some he means, you, see his actions as cruel but, if you were in his position, wouldn't you do the same?

Why can't you just mind your business and stop bothering him with your bullshit? It's not like your endless talking would change anything.

You're a nobody.

"Hello? Is your ass that stuffed of money that you can't follow simple instructions anymore? Get out of my way!"

Who does he think he is?

You scream into his face, blood rushing up your face as your anger pours out of you, all you see is red. If he doesn't move out the way at this instant, you're going to-

Who do you think you are?

He exhales a deep breath, scanning the area around you two before he swiftly takes a hold of your arm. You spit out curses at him, roughly trying to free yourself from his grasp, only to be dragged along until he rushes you into an empty room down the hall.

"Let go-!" And he does, pushing you into the empty guest room, closing the door right behind him. You swallow at the tension, the music only faint to notice, turning the room almost dead silent.

You stand, your ground, furrowed eyebrows indicating your mood. "You-!"

Before you can even think of an insult, he interrupts you in an instant, causing your body to tense up at his unusual dark tone. It's almost scary how his expression changes into something unreadable. "Shut the fuck up", he breathed out, head falling back as his hands brushes across his face, a long sigh leaving his lips while looking at the ceiling.

"Can you? Just be quiet for one second." And you did, exhaustion washing over your body as you look around the room, turning on your heels to look at anything but him.

"It's always people like you", he begins, eyes trailing after your movements, "always those nobodies who got their nose all up in my business. You're the one who's a tick on my ass." He begins to follow your footsteps to the bathroom, halting at the door to lean against the door frame, looking down at your body seated on the closed toilette, head in hands. "You're jealous."

Jealous? Not only jealous - you're green of envy.

He was born with everything and anything you could ask for. He already got his future set, like food on a platter. You on the other hand have to work hard, to pay for college, rent, and other necessities. And he? He gets money shoved up his butt every other week, not lifting a finger. And worst of all, he's not even grateful for his privileged life. Perhaps, that's also a big reason you hate him.

"I'm obsessed? Now tell me who exactly dragged me into this room!", You snap your head up, teeth gritting together, tears threatening to trickle down your face.

"You cryin'?" You try to wipe the tear off your face unnoticed, but it's already too late. He nears you, leaning down and looking at you with that look again.

As if you're nobody.

"Don't change the topic", you sniffle between tears, turning your face away from him so you don't have to see him looking down at you. But you still feel his eyes on you, an unreadable expression on his face as he inspects your form, an odd feeling bubbling up in his stomach.

Guilt?

He feels bad for you, he feels bad for making you feel this way. An apology tickles the tip of his tongue, but he closed his mouth before he dared to shatter his own ego.

"Fuck." He lets it slip out in a whisper, trying to think of possibilities to clear the confusion. Truth was, he looked for you around the whole house with the intention of making things right with you. Because he actually doesn't hate you how you think he would.

Suguru, his childhood best friend, knows how bad Satoru is with words, and how little to no remorse he has while talking to people, especially to girls. He also knows something else about Satoru, something that nobody, maybe not even himself, is aware of. That's the whole reason why he even invited you here. For the both of you to talk things out.

He planned it all out, pleading and begging you to come, and also loosing his pride in the process, up to the empty room, knowing that only Satoru would know what part of the house would be abandoned during a party, up to talking him into finally talk to you - without any bickering or insulting. An honest talk, just the two of you, nothing else.

"Look", he feels his heart sink into his stomach as he notices your attention is on him. "I-" He stops at the sight of your teary face, every part of his body telling him to just apologize properly, and just leave it be, or kiss it better.

What is he thinking?

"I just want this shit to end. Stop bothering me. Stop pocking around my business. Then we'll be good." Fucking dumbass. He facepalms himself mentally, eyes widening in shock at the sound of your soft giggle.

"Didn't anyone teach you how to apologize?" Looking up at your face again, he can see a faint but visible smile on your face and, thank God, what a relief.

"You know I won't say that."

"Why?"

"Because there is no reason to."

His posture stiffens at the sound of you getting up from the toilet. "Alright then. There's nothing to 'be good' then," You walk past him, back into the room, "I'll leave."

"Wait."

You can hear him entering the room. You smirk to yourself before turning around, ready to see his ego shattering down, and-

"I don't hate you, Y/N."

What?

The smirk quickly washed off your face, confusion replacing it. Was this some sort of joke?

"I'll explain it to you, just-" he sighs, swallowing his pride before continuing, "stay. Please." You're taken aback by his sudden change, the soft and pleading look on his face. He never looked anywhere near unappealing to you, it was just his attitude. But now?

You don't know what's gotten into you, but you feel like staying, like something will happen. Suddenly you're not angry anymore, you're calm, collected, but most of all, curious.

He sighs in relief as you halt your movements, slowly expecting him to continue. His feet drag to the bed, awkwardly sitting at the edge of it as his hand motions you to sit beside him, eyes looking up at you expectantly.

You hesitate at first, you want to turn back and get out, but something just keeps your feet moving, your eyes never leaving his face.

And when you sit beside him, you come to realize how handsome he is up close, observing his bright ocean blue eyes, searching for something you can't explain in them.

You snap back to reality, eyes now looking down at your fingers tapping at your thigh awkwardly. "So?", you whisper into the thin air, for no reason at all. Slowly you look up at him face again, and instead of an answer, you found what you were looking for.

His lips smash onto yours as your eyes widen before you sigh into the kiss in relief, leaning your head into the hand he held up at your cheek. You push right into him, softly crawling onto his lap while your hands tangle into his hair as you feel him shiver underneath you at the feeling of your clothed heat covering his groin.

Breaking the kiss to catch your both's breaths, you look at each other in pure bliss. You lose yourself in his angelic eyes as his flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, hoping - no, begging for you to catch on.

"I like you," he curses under his breath once your cunt sits right on his half-hard length, breathing turning ragged, "I really like you."

You catch onto his intention and breath out s light laugh, placing a quick kiss to his lips, causing him to chase after your lips right after, and you bite back a laugh right after. "I figured." Your lips are back on his as you begin to grind your hips against his in a needy manner, a soft moan being swallowed by his lips as his hands firmly hold onto your rear, setting a steady rhythm.

With every move of your hips, the tent in his pants only grows, his hands turn rougher with each friction of your clother cunt against his hard length.

Fuck, he might burst into his pants right now. You look so angelic above him, breaking from the kiss to carefully tearing the shirt from him so you could admire his fine build before softly pushing him onto the sheets, his white hair spread across the silk as his chest heaves with every further inch your delicate fingers took towards his groin with the intention of freeing his aching cock from his painfully tight boxers.

And you do just that, eyes sparkling in anticipation at the sight of his gorgeous cock, pre leaking from the tip as he hisses at the hit of cold air he feels against his head.

"Hah- I-", his head pushes back into the sheets, eyes closing while he lets out a soft whine once your hand contracts around his dick, thumb teasing his slit.

"You what? Cat caught your tongue?", you tease, your other hand occupied with lazily pushing your panties to the side, lifting your hips up, ready to aline his head to your entrance, damp folds eager to feel him inside of you.

He lifts his head up, looking at your exposed cunny right before him, his hand flying up to your hips, squeezing them to get you to halt your actions. "I never did this", he breathes out, cheeks turning into a faint tint of red at your dumbfounded expression. Your hips come back down to rest on his lap, biting your lip, aroused of the idea that you're his first. "Are you serious?" And with his nod, you feel your cunt pulsating in excitement, neck craning down to capture his lips again.

You lift your hips to rest on his exposed cock, wet cunt slowly gliding along his length. Your swollen clit catches onto his end, the both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hips speedily buck up into yours, urging you to slide his plumb tip into your entrance. The firm grip his hands have on your waist guaranteed a leaving impression on your skin - but you don't care.

Not right now, not like this- when you have him of all people imaginable underneath you, his hot breath tickling your nose while his eyes lusted over you, curious of your next move.

You smirk down at him, a breathy laugh escaping you as your hand sneaks down to take hold of his pulsating length, aligning it to your entrance.

And with your gummy walls enveloping his tip in a tight grip, every past lingering grudge flows out of the window. He swallows, hard, head tipping back in pleasure while you inch your hips down further and further, biting your lip to contain your moans.

If there's heaven, this is it. Yes, he had his fair share of make out sessions, girls soaking his fingers and he was no stranger to blowjobs. But this? This feeling, your soft walls hugging his cock so perfectly, as if your pussy was made for him, waiting for him.

"Ohhhhh, f-fuck!-" A strangled whine escapes his lips once you bottom out, sweat forming at his forehead. It feels like you're suffocating him, his breath gets caught in his lungs, his eyes threatening to move to the very back of his skull.

With his face scrunching up in pleasure, one hand leaves the bruising grip on your waist as he tries his best to get up on his elbow, mouth hanging wide open.

"Are you alright?", you breathe out, breathing turning rapid. You can feel each vein of his dick pulsating inside your soaking cunt, your hand brushing across his defined abdomen.

"More than alright", he scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing, now fully propped up against the headboard. His absent hand finds its way to your ass, squeezing it, a desperate gaze inspecting every inch of your body. "Please, move."

And you comply, bracing yourself on his shoulders as you begin a steady pace, breasts bouncing up his face with each movement of your hips.

"Fuckkkkkk, yesyesyes!", his mouth captured your neglected nipple, his wet muscle swiping across the bud whilst his occupied hand harshly squeezes your rear, fat spilling between the gaps of his slender fingers as he roughly moves your hips against his, the newfound rhythm causing him to let out a sob.

Each rut of your hips only makes his love for you grow even stronger, now that you took the most precious thing he claimed to be his as your own, he's sure that this is right. If he had any doubts before this, then it's certain that they now disappeared into the thin air. There's nothing but desperation and desire for you clouding his mind - he needs you, he needs to feel the comfort of your velvet walls, your moans against his lips, your skin against his - you, you you.

Your clit continuously brushes against his pelvic bone. "Mhmmm, right there", you whine, hands desperately clawing at his shoulders with your eyes squeezed shut.

It's almost embarrassing how fast you're threatening to near your release, considering that he was the virgin. On top of that, the he in question being Gojo Satoru. You hated-

Your eyes shoot open, back coming in contact with the silk sheets before you feel his mouth on yours again, his tongue prodding at your lip. "You feel so fucking good, baby", he mumbled against your lips, his hips speed up while his hands roam your body in such a longing manner. "Don't want anything but this", he lifts your leg up his shoulder, straightening his back as he felt a tightness in his stomach. "Nothing 's better but this perfect cunt. Love it so much, fuck- love you, I love you baby."

Wait, why did you hate him again?

You moan at his words, the confusing mist clearing up with each mesmerizing thrust of his hips, your eyes full of admiration when you view him leaving open mouth kisses against your ankle, his eyes never daring to leave yours.

"'m gonna cum, toru- fuckfuckfuck, yes! Don't stop pleaseee-" And with that, you fall into the tantalizing sea of pleasure, sucking your stomach in while reaching your hand to his hip in an attempt to stop him, the pleasure too much for you to bear.

A low groan leaves him at the sound of the nickname you gave him, hips unintentionally speeding up, sweat rolling down his chest. He feels like he's gonna bust any second now, his tip nudging your gummy spot with each stroke, taking the shaky hand on his stomach in his to reach it up to his lips and plant a quick kiss on it.

"A-atta, girl. Fuck, you're so goddamn pretty. Can't last much longer, baby." His glistening eyes look between your bodies, the movement of his hips flattering as he nears his release.

"Shiiiiit, never felt so good in my entire life. Wanna stay inside of you forever. T-think I'm gonna cum."

The sight of your spasming cunt spurting against his lower abdomen was enough for him to burst right inside your welcoming hole, one last drive of his hips following to dwell a little longer in the pleasure before pulling out of your hole.

His body slumps onto of yours, nuzzling his head into your neck. You let out a breathy giggle, still out of breath, as your hand reaches up to stroke his hair affectionately.

Soon, the both of your breathings calm down, silence drowning the room, no one daring to continue where you left off.

"You sure this was your first time?", you joke, earning a laugh from the young man. He lifts his head, eyes locking with yours. "I'm a natural, you know."

You hide your laugh while turning to the side. His eyes roam your face with pure affection, love struck from your wholehearted laugh and suddenly, he regrets every past resentment he had against you.

" You're so damn pretty", he whispers, causing you to turn and look at him, his eyes wandering aver your features. "I'm serious", he continues, in answer to your skeptical stare.

It was weird, seeing his usual distasteful expression being replaced by such an adoring gaze, tempting you to look into his ocean kissed eyes for all eternity.

Every past resentment you had against him long forgotten, the future the only thing occupying your mind now. If he's really serious, could you both-

"Let me make it up to you."

You snap out of your thoughts, perplexed by his words. Before you can say anything, he continues.

" Take you out on a date. A proper date. Apologize for real." He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth again, nervous about what was about to come.

"I was serious about earlier, you know. I really do like you. I'm just-" he breathes out, trying to find the right words.

"An asshole?", you answer for him, earning a quick laugh in return. "Yeah. A big one at that." he raises from his position, looking down at you, almost pleading for your approval. "Please, y/n. I'll do anything for you to make it up. Give this - us a chance."

You look up at him, a small smile on your face. "Please," he whispered again once you sit up, carefully taking your hand in his, eyes pleading for a response.

Once your hand reaches up for his cheek, stroking it lovingly while you place a fond kiss against his lips, he got the answer he always wanted.

"Okay, let's try."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader (1k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ valentine's day is approaching; and with a valentine comes love...or for worse...heartbreak.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, angst, mentions of fluff idk, there’s some swearing i think author's note; happy (almost) valentine's,, i’m projecting

1 day, 9 hours, and 47 minutes.

your last conversation wasn't anything out of the ordinary. there was no dry spell. no plateau. no failure to communicate. just you and satoru, plus the typical banter, talking about something as simple as what you were planning on making for dinner; to be more precise, what you were trying to make for dinner. you're a pretty awful cook according to him.

everything seemed to be going so well...really well...almost perfectly well— and with valentine's day right around the corner, you'd instinctively assumed that he'd ask you to be his. instinct is a difficult emotion, though. is it even an emotion? you're not quite sure, but your heart believes it is. your heart— which is practically pounding out of your chest at the current moment, stretching your skin, eager to feel the limitless fresh air and freedom that comes with floating on cloud 9— instinctively wants to believe satoru is your soulmate. you love him don't you? is the answer yes? it should be no.

you've known him for...what? four months? four months of your twenty years of life is seemingly small. that's only one point six-seven percent of your entire lifetime...one point six-seven percent of your life that you wish you could relive forevermore.

...he isn't going to text you back is he?

2 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes.

each second passing is another flicker of hope that misses the candle wick. instead of lighting the path that leads to your eventual relationship, it lights a fire beneath your feet. your socks feel warm. there's coal beneath them. hot, burning coal withering away the sense of feel in your toes; breathing in the aroma of heartbreak until it becomes a roaring fire that consumes all of you.

why is he doing this? what did you do wrong? you haven't done anything wrong. he's just a man. a man who can't seem to stop playing with your heart.

you can hear his voice in the back of your mind. the part of your mind that connects to your heart. "can you facetime, right now? i'm having a bad day and i just want to see your face." he had to have meant that. "you don't need to apologize for talking over me, i love hearing what you have to say." a guy wouldn't just say that to say that. "don't be too hard on yourself, i know you'll figure everything out becuase you're you. you always know what to do." it couldn't have all been bullshit.

it can't have been bullshit.

because if that's all it was, then you're just a fool in love.

and fools in love are no better than clowns.

3 days, 14 hours, and 22 minutes.

you did what you hate doing. the thing that makes you want to scream into your pillow at the mere thought. the very thing that screams desperation and neediness and clinginess and insecurity all in one. you sent another message.

in the past, you've never had feelings strong enough to elicit such a response. your heart hasn't tied itself to another person's with a red satin bow. the fated string of fate hadn't found you yet. it allowed you to maintain a stable head and remain grounded with no hopes of love on your radar. you hadn't yet learned how to fly; until that day you met satoru and suddenly you had a hundred pilot lessons lined up day-after-day.

it was so easy being with him. everything was so easy.

for the first time ever you had no doubts. you weren't afraid of waking up one morning to find him gone. disappeared. nonexistent. you full-heartedly believed he'd never leave; and you believed he reciprocated those thoughts. now, though...now you may never know what bits and pieces he reciprocated— because your plane crashed. turbulence flew beneath the wings and drove the flight off course. the oxygen masks bellowed down upon the passengers, every seat being filled with your pounding heartbeats, and each and every one of them blew out of the window with no parachute. he didn't even try to cushion the fall.

4 days, 1 hour, and 39 minutes.

if there's one message you never expected to receive, it's surely 'seen 14 hours ago'.

you'd given him space and assumed he'd been busy with a million other things and hadn't had any time to send you a quick message. your last text wasn't even anything out of the ordinary, just a quick "are you okay?", you think that's pretty reasonable. it's reasonable, isn't it?

something could be seriously wrong with him. why else would he leave you on read? he's never done this before. usually, you're the one who's more distant between the two of you. that's how your relationship began, after all. he'd send five texts in comparison to your two; which later evolved into five rivaling five, and now to zero rivaling two. the scales have tipped. how do you rebalance them?

you trust satoru. there must be a perfectly good explanation for this odd irregularity that's occurring in your otherwise perfect relationship. after all, all of your friends love him— they think he's the greatest catch of the 21st century. he's never done anything in the past to warrant such strange behavior. this is simply a difficult week for him...and you'll be there whenever he's ready to vent.

5 days, 22 hours, and 7 minutes.

a broken heart isn't for the weak...but unfortunately, you're not one of the stronger warriors.

he's at another girl's birthday party. he hasn't messaged you back in almost six days...and he's with another girl? celebrating her? he could be holding her close and you wouldn't even know, because god knows he wouldn't tell you. he won't even say good morning anymore. he won't even answer your fucking three word message that you sent out of desperation and concern for his well being. instead, he's at the club with his friends, getting drunk and taking shots, having the time of his life; and you're sitting in your room watching his social media stories...believing that everything that went wrong is all your fault.

but it's not your fault.

it's not your fault you fell for someone like that.

someone like satoru gojo.

[coryosbaby]

Camera Ready ✧･ﾟ: Finnick Odair x reader

Summary: Neither of you really care if anyone sees.

Warning: exhibitism, voyeurism, p n v, riding, they fuck in the arena while it’s being televised, spit kink, size kink, creampie, switch ! Finnick, switch! Reader

⭒

“You know you could walk a little slower, sweetness. ”

Finnick’s voice blares out teasingly into the morning air as he trails behind you. Your hair sticks to your forehead in sweaty strands, your body on high alert as you make sure to scope out any remaining candidates that aren’t on your side. Which isn’t much, considering you have Katniss and the others, but it’s still a good idea to be cautious. To your relief you had found Finnick in the woods last night. And as much of a victor as you are, the dark makes you nervous. So he had allowed you to sleep beside him, curled up with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t intentional, of course, but when he sleeps it seems that he tends to get handsy. And when the warmth of his body was beside you, you couldn’t resist letting him throw you into his embrace.

“Maybe you could walk a little faster, pretty boy.”

He chuckles at the nickname, his pace finally catching up with you so you can see the cocky smile on his face.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Your friendship is like this, a lot. Flirtation, playful banter, and a few hook ups every now and then since the two of you met at a capital event one year. And now, even when you’re supposed to be enemies, you’re working together. It’s just a connection, an order that makes you both flow freely with each other and get the things you desire.

You ignore the way Finnick’s hands ignite flames on your skin and the way his smile makes your heart flourish. You also ignore the way you feel the constant need to protect him and keep him alive. In this game, you can’t have anything serious.

“Mm..” you reply. “Sometimes.”

Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. He smiles, that pretty crooked smile, and presses a kiss to your temple.

And then, you hear a snap.

You and Finnick are both on high alert then, and turning around you’re both faced with a victor. Not an ally, it seems, as she’s pointing a knife at the both of you.

It doesn’t take long before she’s dead, but it’s still a bother to you. You don’t like murdering these people, and you’ve never liked the whole idea or subject of the hunger games. The first time you had won, but at what cost when they’ve sent you right back in?

It’s kill or be killed. And as the woman’s blood splatters on your face, you sense that familiar feeling of rage from the first time you killed creeping back into your psyche. That rage that loathes the capital, loathes those stupid fucking districts as they fall into the ground. And your knife doesn’t stop the assault on her as you make sure she’s dead. It’s better, this way, to overdo it so they don’t have to suffer. Finnick is surprised at your strength and skill, he always has been, but he finds it best not to bring it to attention.

As you two walk away, the woods begins to clear. And then you both watch as you see the Arena come into view, dark and blood soaked.

“Great,” you mutter. “More to show the people.”

It’s obvious that everything is being recorded, but this is the most clear spot. As you sit down on one of the rock formations, your lean back to watch the clouds and the orange sunset. Finnick sits beside you, his neck and chest splattered with blood. And after a moment, you begin to speak.

“I don’t like doing this.” You state. “It’s all bullshit. It’s psychotic.”

Finnick nods in agreement, his jaw clenched as he watches the stains on your shirt.

“We should give them a show.” He says. “Do something that we know they can’t get away from.”

And that’s when you get the idea.

You look at him, a mere glance. You’re both probably sweaty and disgusting, but even now Finnick looks absolutely god like. You know he’s chiseled, under that gray suit. And you know what big thing lies underneath the crotch of his underwear.

You smile, your hand coming to rest gently on his muscled thigh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he watches your palm begin to move up more.

“What are you doing?” He asks. He doesn’t seem completely against the idea, though. Because then that cocky smirk you know so good and well is plastered onto his face, his hands finding there way to the exposed skin of your shoulder. He leans over and kisses your collarbone, gently. You huff, your lips moving to graze the spot below his ear.

“If they want them a show, let’s give them a show.”

Seeming to be on the same page, Finnick crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss.

Meanwhile, at the capital, the monitors in the room begin to awkwardly watch as you push Finnick down onto the rocky arm. His back hits the floor with a grunt, and then he’s watching as you sit up and unzip the back of your suit. He groans when your tits are revealed to them, full and sitting in all their glory. He brings his hands up and gropes one in his hand, feels the soft skin and your pert nipples being brought to attention. You tut when he tries to move his fingers down to your pussy.

“No, Finn.” You coo. Your nails scratch his addam’s apple, and he flushes as you begin to climb on top of him. “No touching there until I say.”

He groans when you press down against his growing bulge.

“You know if we don’t hurry we could die, right?” He huffs.

“I don’t want to hear excuses, baby. We both know fucking me again is the last thing you want to do before you go.”

He can’t deny that, and as you demand that he lift himself up and unzip his suit down to his thighs, he follows your directions with desperation. You watch as you pull his briefs down below his balls, watch as his girthy length springs to full attention. He moans when your hand connects to his skin, and begins to jerk him off with vigor. You can feel a tension in the air, the feeling of being watched extremely prominent. And it shouldn’t get you so wet, but it does. So you bring yourself to eye level with Finnick’s cock, and spit down on him, quick to shove his tip into the warm confines of your mouth. He makes a deep sound in his throat, and you move away teasingly when his hips try and move his cock farther into your throat.

“C’mon, sugar.” He says, overwhelmed. “Don’t be mean.”

“Why don’t you just shut up and do what I say, Odair?” You demand. You slap his cock, and he groans, legs beginning to tremble at the pain and pleasure mixing. “Besides, I’m not letting you use my mouth right now. I just needed to get you wet.”

He whines in protest when you pull away from him. But then you’re pushing your suit down, past your calfs and onto the ground.

So help you, if you’re going to die it’s going to be like this.

When your pussy is revealed to him, Finnick’s cock jumps and he sits up to guide you to his lap. He’s warm, his cock drooling and messy. You don’t hesitate to rub his tip against your clit, your thighs holding his lean body down.

“Please, y/n, fuck!” Finnick stutters, the feeling of your wet silky cunt making him go crazy.

You smile as you finally guide him to your entrance, and sink down. His cock fills you up to impossible levels, his balls pressed flush against you when he finally bottoms out. His hands go to your waist, and when you bounce on him, his eyes roll back and he cries out like a bitch in heat.

“Jesus Christ.. you feel so fuckin’ good, angel. Love your pussy so much.”

“I know, sweet boy.” You moan when he grazes a soft spot inside you. “It f-feels good, doesn’t it? My little pussy feel good around that big cock?”

“God, yes. Cmon, ride me harder, momma. I know you can.”

And when you begin to fuck him faster, he brings his hands down to your ass, and begins bucking up into you with a feral pace. Your arousal makes him keen, makes his brain turn to mush the moment your scent hits him. You look so beautiful, so flushed and perfect, and something snaps inside of Finnick, then. His fingers spread your cheeks apart, and his voice is raw.

“Bet you like this, huh? The whole capital watching you get fuckin’ destroyed by my big cock? Hm?”

You gasp at his words, your fingers clawing at his chest.

“Finn, baby, fuck!”

“You love it, don’t you?”

No reply. Finnick slaps your ass harshly, and you yelp at the sting. His hands grab your throat in a harsh grip.

“Answer me!” He demands. You cry out, trying to nod the best you can, and then uttering out a “Yes! Yes sir!” As his large hands cut off your air supply.

“That’s my fuckin girl.” He replies. His fingers rub your clit, leaving your throat as you gasp for air and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushes all over him, soaking his cock and balls and the rock below the both of you, and without warning Finnick is grabbing your hips with his large hands and turning you over so you’re beneath him. It’s quick, and you’re incredibly surprised. You wrap your legs around him as he begins to pummel you, now with more leverage and strength, and his cock feels like it’s destroying you from the inside out. You don’t complain, though. And when Finnick’s hips begin stuttering, you know he’s about to cum.

“C’mon, baby, cum inside me, cum in my pussy!”

Your words spur him on, makes him leave bruising marks on your wrists as he holds them above your head and begins to cum in thick, messy ropes. Your walls practically milk him of everything he’s got, and when he’s done you can feel the stickiness of his seed dripping off his cock and onto your thighs.

He buries his face in your neck, then. And with a small laugh, he pulls himself out and begins to lick his cum out of you. Your middle finger comes up into the air as he does it. A sign, as the victor from district 4 eats your pussy. A big ‘fuck you’ to the capital.

The cameramen and people at home watch in shock and awe. There’s a debate of whether or not they should turn it off, and after a while everyone becomes too distracted by the images on screen to worry about it. The next day, none of the other tributes look at you both the same.

Because at that time, they had been watching, too.

@emsbookcase

[wildestdreamsblog]

Hiraeth IV

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You had always been his, and no one could take you away from him. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Slight age gap, Murder intention, Mention of death, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: back from the grave :>

Masterlist, Hiraeth III

Seven years ago, United States of America

“You saw him last night,” your therapist repeated gently when you paused to breathe. Your eyes watered, remembering the dream- no, the nightmare you had last night. It had been almost two years since you last saw any of them, since you last saw any remnants of your past.

It had been two years, yet one dream of him managed to shatter your progress. One dream of his sorrowful eyes managed to break you. And you hated it. You hated him. You hated yourself for not being stronger.

He was just a figment of your imagination, memories manifesting themselves through your subconscious- and sadly, that was enough to make you crumble.

You reminded yourself that Seokjin was just that- someone from your past.

“And how did that make you feel?”

You looked up at her with tears in your eyes, “Terrified,” you whispered shakily, wrapping your hands tighter around yourself. “He terrifies me.”

She regarded you over her eyeglasses for a moment, her hands posed to write on her list of all the things that were wrong about you. “You still think he killed your father,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone.

And you answered merely with anger in your eyes.

You ran.

Of course you ran again. You weren’t strong enough to stay, and even if you were, there was no place in your heart for him. Not when it still hurt looking at him. Not when every time you look into his eyes, you were brought back to that day when he died. Not when you were reminded of that day, not when your desperation and misery were resurfacing every time he was near.

Not when a part of you blamed him for the tragedy of the only family you had.

This was exactly why you left.

This was why you ran so far that you left the only home you knew, and why you left him standing there alone with his head bowed down.

“The faster you get the owner to sign, the faster you can return here,” your boss replied from over the video chat, excitement apparent in his voice once you finished your presentation. You included other restaurants that you visited with Jungkook, even going as far as underselling Seokjin’s business. You even didn’t mention that he was the owner, respecting his privacy.

And yet, your boss who wasn’t even paying you enough to face your nightmare, chose his restaurant. It was just your fucking luck, you thought.

“Boss, I really think that the first option is better-“

He squinted his eyes at you as though he was looking right through your bullshits. You knew his restaurants was the best among the choices. Objectively speaking, choosing him would benefit your company the most. Even without his named connected to the store, it was already performing better than the others. You wondered that what height of success it would reached once people knew that the Kim Seokjin owned it? You knew that. Yet, you were only human and as such, you couldn’t help but be affected by your emotions, to be subjective when success was merely one signature away.

“The faster you can return here, the sooner you’ll get your promotion which is already being processed. The only thing missing is my signature. And I did promise you I will sign, the promotion is yours- as soon as you get the owner to sign.”

This was a draining meeting and an even more exhausting day. You didn’t think you slept at all last night, and you left his house early morning like a common thief, moving so quietly and taking the things you considered essential with you. You just really wanted to breathe, to be think without his intoxicating presence clouding your mind.

“I know you can do this. I trust no one but you.”

Of course you knew you could. The question lied whether you would survive this, whether you would survived him.

Those were his parting words before he ended the call. Had this been anyone else, literally anyone else, you would have been on top of this. You were a professional and damn good with your job. This shouldn’t be any different…right?

In fact, this should have been easier because you knew him. You knew Kim Seokjin. Except that you couldn’t be any more wrong. You didn’t know the other half of him, the sinister, selfish and dark side of him.

The coffee shop was now swarming with people as the day approached midmorning. Ever since you left his house, you were here quietly working, doing anything to take your mind off that kiss…off of him. Yet, every time you closed your eyes, your mind went to him. You could still feel his lips on yours, could still feel the warmth of his hands as he cradled you so close to him, could still feel how truly powerless you were when it came to him. If you were going to be completely and utterly honest, you could still feel how hard your heart was beating that moment. He was a force to be reckoned with. He was then, and still was, bigger than life. It was truly unfair how he grew old to be even more perfect and dashing than he was when you were younger. And what you hated the most was how he could still fucking affect you as though you were still that young girl who followed him around. And look what he reduced you to, a coward who ran when he was at his weakest.

You sighed before turning to look at the window to your right, only to be met with who seemed to be the lead rapper and main dancer of the group, Jung Hoseok. He was wearing a disguised, only his eyes could be seen and he was apparently looking at you with urgency in his eyes. His body was huffing in exhaustion as though he had been running around.

He did not waste anymore time as he entered the coffee shop and went to you, his hand immediately encircling your wrist as though to ensure that you could no longer run.

“You have to come with me.”

“What? Why?” Your brows furrowed at the seriousness on his face. You were aware that he was the sunshine of the group, that he was the light of the group. You would be living under a rock if you didn’t know of him. This was the reason why it confused you why he suddenly seemed…angry. Or why he looked to be moving with utmost urgency.

You could feel people looking at you with curiosity, and it wouldn’t be long before someone recognized him. He knew it. And you knew it. Hoseok was taking advantage of the fact that he bet you wouldn’t want to make a scene, and thus he was able to take you in his car without much of a fight.

He maneuvered the car expertly, his eyes focused on road. He was the perfect picture of calmed and composed if not for the way he gripped the steering wheel. Amongst all the members, he was probably the least you had interaction with which was precisely why how he was acting confused the hell out of you. He was acting as though you had personally offended him, as though what you did was close to becoming unforgivable.

Which brought you once again to this question: what did you do to him?

“What is this all about?” You asked him in a barely restrained contempt. You didn’t bode well with being dragged out of an establishment by a man you barely knew, and his silence was not doing him any good but to piss you. It was a good thing you weren’t a sensitive person for how could you grow up to be one when you were being constantly rejected by Seokjin. He was running and pushing you away at least three times a day that you almost felt bad for him. Almost.

But this man beside you was driving you nuts

You thought he wouldn’t answer as he only chuckled without any emotions, his eyes cold as he glanced briefly at you.

“Do you know what you’ve done to him? Do you have any idea what you’re doing to my hyung?” He asked conversationally as if his words weren’t meant to be knives to you.

“Wha-“

“Put on your seatbelt,” he ordered harshly, looking at you with coldness in his eyes. “As much as I hate how you made him a mess, I know you getting hurt would messed him up further.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“You’ll see.”

Hoseok left you with no choice but to follow him, his steps brisk as he entered the Hybe building with obvious familiarity. After numerous turns, he stopped in front of a door. You heard crashes of something heavy and corresponding grunts of men struggling before you even saw him. Hoseok turned to you with coldness in his eyes before he even opened the door. And what you saw was your usually strong Jin reduced to a mess of a man. His eyes were hallow, his hair a mess as he struggled against the hold of Namjoon and Jungkook who were trying their best to contain him. Your mouth hanged agape as you took him in and the chaos that he seemed to have caused to the what you thought was once a pristine room: chair thrown across the room, devices swept off of the table, decorations askew as though they suffered from violence. He still hadn’t looked at you, still hadn’t taken notice of your presence and you didn’t know why you were glad for it.

“Hyung, stop it! You’re hurting yourself!” Jungkook pleaded, yet it was as though he wasn’t heard. Jin’s eyes were unfocused as he struggled with the hold the two men had on him, his eyes determined.

“P-Princess- I have to find her,” he mumbled incoherently as he tried to push them away.

You stepped back albeit unconsciously as though it was your mind telling you to run from this…to run from him. But you didn’t go far. You felt J-hopes hands on your shoulders, effectively preventing you from leaving.

“Where are you going?” He asked with a low voice. “Why can’t you look at what you’ve done to him?”

“I didn’t do anything to him!” You hissed at him, struggling to get away from him, only for it to draw attention to you. Namjoon was the first to notice you and he looked both alarmed and relieved by your presence. “Fix this,” Hoseok ordered you coldly.

He smiled before stepping you near to where Jin was. “I found her, hyung,” he announced gently to the man you almost couldn’t recognized. “You need to calm down now, okay? We still need to go to our shoot, hyung.”

Jin blinked his eyes before he focused on you, his body immediately relaxing upon seeing you. Yet, your eyes weren’t on him. Instead, they focused on the nondescript bottle of medicine beside him. The orange bottle looked to be almost empty. You didn’t know why it seemed to be something important, but you couldn’t help wondering…What was that?

Namjoon’s eyes widened when he saw where your eyes were and in a blink of an eye, he snatched the container and pocketed it away from your prying eyes. However, even Namjoon’s quick reflexes were not able to stop that image from being engraved in your mind. Was Seokjin…sick?

“P-princess?” Seokjin called for you, disbelief evident in his voice. He pushed their hands away from him, his sole focus on you. He stood up immediately, his long limbs carrying him. He looked as disheveled as he felt when he thought you left him again.

You couldn’t moved. It was as though you were rooted to the ground, waiting for the inevitable. You felt his arms wrapped around you like a child scared to part with you, he was trembling as he held you to him. However, his voice was dark as he whispered to you.

“Don’t leave? Please? Never leave me again. Never disappear without saying a word again. Please. I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave.”

“Something is clearly very wrong with that boy,” Seokjin’s father muttered lowly as he watched his only son talked to you in the garden.

It was Jin’s birthday and like every year, the family threw a party for their beloved son. He was perfect, they thought. He got good grades, was sporty, obedient, independent, and showed promising intelligence when it came to their company. See, he was perfect in theory. However, the older Kim couldn’t help but noticed his strange dependence on you. It wasn’t…normal, he thought.

You weren’t supposed to be here. In fact, you had an exam tomorrow and as a fourteen year-old girl, you took your studies seriously. However, Jin didn’t take your absence from his birthday lightly. Upon hearing that you wouldn’t be able to make it, it was as though he lost his smile and what took over was an expressionless face. He didn’t know how, but Seokjin was able to make several calls and lo and behold, your exam was rescheduled.

Even at his age, a ripe eighteen year-old young man, he excluded power and he wasn’t afraid to use it and his charms to get what he wanted.

“Don’t say that, honey,” Mrs. Kim chided him gently, a frown on her face as she watched her son smiled genuinely for the first time tonight. “He’s just…close with her.”

“Honey, he’s eighteen years old now. He shouldn’t act like he did just because she wasn’t near him. You know that,” he said gently, looking into his wife’s eyes with concern. “It’s not normal. His need for her isn’t normal.”

Mrs. Kim placed her tea on the table with a light thud, “Our son is perfect. There’s nothing wrong with him,” she replied in defiance.

Perhaps, if she accepted what was apparent that time, Kim Seokjin wouldn’t turn out to be evil living in the body of an angel.

Tip Jar

Hiraeth V

[kleftiko]

❦ CALL OUT MY NAME

“guess I was just another pit stop 'til you made up your mind. you just wasted my time."

cw: mature, sexual content, gn!reader, angst, infidelity, mentions of marking (tw: Naoya Zen'in)

Choso's laying in bed. Fingers play through his loose hair as he watches a show he's seen so many times that he's mouthing along to the dialogue. An empty box of takeout sits on his nightstand, and he's content.

The ambiance of his room is broken when his phone buzzes. At first he doesn't notice, then decides he doesn't care enough to check, but whether intuition or luck, he flips over his phone to see your name.

"What's up?" he's asking a second later, into the speaker.

There's a sniffle on your end.

"Can I come over?" you ask in a small, static, clouded voice.

"Of course," he says.

"Can we get fried rice?"

Choso's eyes flit to the empty container. "Sure, I was just getting hungry anyway."

"I'll be there soon."

Getting rid of the garbage takes two seconds; what takes so much longer is Choso figuring out what to do with all the time between now and when you show up at his door. He was overly critical of how he was sitting, what show was playing on the TV, and what kind of fried rice he should get—but it all went flying out the window when you opened his door with puffy eyes and a quivering lip.

He's on you in a second, helping you take off your jacket and asking what happened. But you don't say anything; instead, you climb into his bed and snuggle under the covers.

"He doesn't care about me." You whine.

Choso can't help that the sight of you tangling yourself in his sheets, knowing they're going to smell like you when you inevitably leave, makes his dick twitch.

"He's such a dick—God, why can't I just find someone better?" You huff, fluffing his pillow and laying your head on it.

He tentatively sits on the side of his bed, a large hand softly stroking your shoulder like he's done so many times.

"What happened this time?" He asks. You take a deep breath and begin to recount the details of your latest disappointment. It's always about your boyfriend, Naoya, and how he doesn't do this or say this to you. At this point, everything is a broken record; Naoya does something terrible, and you crawl to Choso for a moment, allowing him to hold, caress, and love you, before returning to your boyfriend.

Choso hates it. Hates that you won't leave the guy, hates that you take all the bullshit he throws at you, hates that you're always showing up at his door in tears—but he especially hates that he can never turn you away, hates that he lets you use him for a quick fuck that definitely means so much more to him than it ever will to you.

"And I mean, it's not even like I'm asking for much!" You vent.

Honestly, Choso's not paying attention to what you're saying; he's heard this speech so many times that he could recite it like the show that's still playing on his TV. But he knows what comes after; he knows that in a moment of vulnerability for both of you, your soft lips will finally touch his, and he could pretend for a brief moment that you are all his.

"Why can't I be with someone as sweet as you?" You breathe, leaning into him.

He doesn't wait for you to make the first move this time; he kisses you without taking a breath first—too eager to have you. As your lips meet, a surge of electricity courses through his veins, intensifying the connection between you. In that stolen moment, the world around him fades away, leaving only the two of you lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

It's all too soon that he's undressed you. The heat between you becomes almost unbearable. His lips run over the soft skin covering your entire body, right over the marks from another man. How he wished to do that to you as well, to erase any trace of anyone else. He wants to look down at your bare body and see his own masterpiece, not some other fuckers. But you'll never let him; your boyfriend was the only one allowed to do that. You've told him many times, and it's always a stab to his heart. A sick reminder of what he is to you and what he will never be.

But in some sadistic and satirical way, it never stops him from wanting to please you, to let you suffocate him with your trembling thighs as he eats you out in a desperate attempt for your approval.

He yearns to be the one who fulfills your desires, to be the artist who brings you pleasure and satisfaction. Despite the pain it causes him, he continues to strive for your acceptance, hoping that one day he will be enough for you.

But even when he's buried deep inside you, bringing tears of ecstasy to your eyes, you're still not looking at him. You're lost in your own world of pleasure, unaware of the emotional toll it takes on him. He longs for a connection beyond physical intimacy, craving the validation and recognition that he so desperately seeks from you. It's a bittersweet irony that even in moments of intense passion, he remains unseen and unnoticed by the one he yearns for. It doesn't matter that he brings you to one orgasm after another if he can't capture your attention and affection outside of the bedroom.

And right when he's on the brink of euphoria, head thrown back, grip like a vice against your hips, you tell him to pull out—he can't cum inside. And it doesn't matter that the sight of his cum splattering against your stomach is a sight that makes him immediately hard again; it's a cruel reminder that only your boyfriend has the pleasure of filling you up while he has to cum into the cool and unforgiving air between you. He now knows the moment is almost over.

Choso's laying in bed. Fingers trail over your exposed skin as the same show that was playing hours ago still runs. An untouched box of takeout sits on his nightstand, and he feels his heart sink at the thought of you waking up and leaving him alone.

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I don't believe Lucas himself has ever said this because quite simply it isn't true and it doesn't follow with the themes and messages Lucas put into Anakin's story. If you have a specific quote from Lucas you know about where he claims Qui-Gon could've kept Anakin from turning to the dark, feel free to let me know, but as far as I'm aware, he's never said it because it isn't true.

Plenty of OTHER people have said it, for sure, up to and including Dave Filoni. And there's probably a number of reasons for why they believe this.

Filoni seems to see the Jedi VERY critically as people who are elitist and too stuck in their ways to see the "truth", while Qui-Gon is enlightened and understands the "truth" better than anybody else. He thinks that this is the story TPM in telling and because Obi-Wan is a Perfect Jedi of sorts, it means that he can't really connect to or understand Anakin in a meaningful way, he's always going to try to make Anakin something he isn't and impose Jedi rules on him that are outdated and repressive in a way that Qui-Gon never would.

This is all complete and utter bullshit.

For one, Qui-Gon is only partly right. Yes, Anakin is the chosen one of the prophecy, but he DOESN'T have any concrete proof of this and the Council itself is right that Anakin's future is clouded and potentially dangerous. They're also right that Anakin isn't going to adjust well to the Jedi lifestyle which could make things difficult for him if they choose to waive the rules for him, something Qui-Gon is choosing to disregard. The whole point of the Council scenes in TPM is to showcase that they're BOTH RIGHT because Anakin at this point can go either direction in his life: he can fulfill the prophecy and become a hero, or he can turn to darkness and destroy the galaxy. Neither one is entirely right or entirely wrong in this situation because that's just... not the point. Qui-Gon is NOT more enlightened than the Council is in this instance even though he's not wrong about Anakin being a child of prophecy.

For two, even though Anakin would likely never be ENTIRELY comfortable with the Jedi lifestyle, I think it's undeniable that the Jedi teachings WOULD help Anakin with his emotional instability if they'd been able to do so without Palpatine's interference. This wouldn't ever get him to the point where he'd be a good JEDI, but it would get him to the point where he'd be emotionally healthy and balanced enough to recognize that this isn't the path he wants to walk and amicably chooses to leave the Order to pursue a life more suited to his needs and desires.

There's nothing in canon to support the idea that Obi-Wan struggles with training Anakin or that he has no idea what to do with him. The CLOSEST you get to that is Obi-Wan claiming to Luke in ROTJ that he thought he could train Anakin just as well as Yoda and that he was wrong, but this storyline got sort-of changed in the prequels when they swapped Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's positions in the narrative, taking the narrative of Obi-Wan being arrogant to something very different.

For three, and this is the biggest reason that this idea of Qui-Gon being able to save Anakin is complete and utter bullshit, the primary reason Anakin falls is because ANAKIN CHOOSES TO FALL. It's not about having a better teacher, there is NO other teacher Anakin could've had that would've kept him from falling because the entire POINT of the story is that Anakin made that choice all on his own. He DID have a good teacher, he WAS given all of the tools he needed to make a better choice, he just didn't want to use any of them because he's selfish and greedy and inclined towards attachments. Removing Anakin's agency in his own story by claiming Qui-Gon could've saved him destroys the entire POINT of Anakin's story. It HAS to be a choice Anakin makes DESPITE knowing it's the wrong choice to make or every single theme in Star Wars goes right out the window. There's no meaning to Anakin choosing to save Luke and sacrifice himself if it doesn't contrast Anakin choosing to sacrifice EVERYONE ELSE for power earlier. They're both HIS CHOICE and that's so so important. Qui-Gon being able to train him would change NOTHING. Anakin would still make that choice because it's the story Lucas wanted to tell. And this is why I'm like 99% certain that Lucas himself has never once claimed Qui-Gon could've saved Anakin because I KNOW he's said things in interviews where he specifically discusses that it was Anakin's choice because he's selfish and greedy. THAT'S the story Lucas was trying to tell and he'd never say otherwise.

Qui-Gon would not have saved Anakin, Obi-Wan was not a subpar teacher, and Anakin made his own damn choices and always would have regardless of who trained him.

[astroangel23]

Pick an Image: What's something that makes you stand out? 🌠👀

If interested in a personal reading, hit ya girls dm's for more info 🃏📬

Image 1: You stand out because you can see bullshit from a mile away. No one can come to you and run any game on you but this isn't because you were gifted with strong discernment from the jump. Your discernment has been built from being surrounded by people who have stabbed you in the back from previous situations. Previously, you were naive to the world and how people can wear false masks unlike yourself, you were always coming through with a pure heart and pure intent, being your true self but this got you taken for granted. Now, you put your personal peace as top priority and you have put in the work to heal yourself and distance yourself from devilish energy and see the people who actually do have good intentions towards you. Good for you ⚔️🤍

Image 2: Your ability to be both practical and dreamy is what makes you stand out. You are just as grounded, independent, and stable as you are creative, spiritual, and ethereal. You are able to bring your dreams into your physical reality. Instead of being all talk and spending all of your time with your heads in the cloud, you legitimately make what you dream happen. It's giving professional magician energy. People deeply admire the balance you carry within yourself 🧙‍♀️✨

Image 3: You have divine royalty energy which makes you stand out. It seems as if opportunities fall in your lap without you asking for them. The wheel is constantly turning for you. Even if you find yourself at the bottom of the wheel, you have an unshakeable trust that everything happens for a reason and you will once again be at the top of the wheel again. You see everything as a lesson and see the beauty at every stage you are at in life. This draws people to you, they want to be a part of your life, they see you as a ray of sunshine that could bring rainbows into their own reality if they are connected to you (watch out for vampires). You are naturally educated, as in you receive downloads by your spirit team, the universe itself is your teacher ☀️🔮

[dxxtruction]

Personally, I think the “That’s how it happened right? You standing in my blood, stroking my hair?” Was how it happened. Louis is just super detached from that headspace he was in before, and validly wanting not to have it be true that he didn’t, at one time, care about Claudia being gone, would be reasonable, and in character. Blaming Armand, partly, for why things got to be like that is correct. Though in this instance is misdirected to include things Armand did not in fact do to get it to be like that, but had, very much, done in a recent unrelated incident. He's essentially combining two events together to get it to align with his current set of beliefs. (Surely everyone's looked back on a situation before and saw it differently given time to think or feel differently about it. Get differing information, and so on. The show is directing us to that a lot, if not making it one of its major themes.)

But I say this is probably, almost definitely, the case, because Louis story beats need to be told accurately lest it take away from his character arc, as well his whole character and its complexity. Obstructing from his, very powerful, highly emotionally driven, story in a way that's frankly offensive. Armand having total and complete control over it, is bullshit. While, he does this though, to himself. Does a character armor on himself to get away from his own flaws, and role, in how things came about. Not intentionally, because it is emotional, and a lot of times just a result of blocking out that trauma. But this is something he’s seen doing often - Not remembering situations in the light in which they’re most accurate, and in so doing painting himself better sometimes, and others worse. Straight up forgetting, or overlooking information, and so never reevaluating why certain things came about until this moment. Not accurately applying the emotions of then, to the way he feels about it now, because he can't, or couldn't previously, actually remember it in that way. As he doesn't connect to those feelings, even those memories. His feelings in a lot of ways keep clouding his memories and his judgments of them.

Daniel gets at this too, where he brings up the tapes, and how Louis was basically just raving the whole time, and this story all happened differently then. It's the same story beats, yes, but it's all so emotionally different to the point where information gets completely changed around, even looked at like it's forcefully constructed to be a certain way, and not actually, therefore, accurate. Louis always tells an emotional story, and that’s important. It places him in time and continuum, in his own history as opposed to outside of it. That’s like, I think a history that can’t be overlooked, even if it's a history that's subject to change. And shouldn't history be? Shouldn't we look back on events that took place in our lives differently? Isn't that how any society grows? And why shouldn't Louis judgments be clouded by his emotions when that's the reason for most any other characters actions? Isn't that the story being told here?

[writersundersiege]

The New Girl in Town Pt 6

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

————————————————————————

A/n: This one is another long one, and it took me so freaking long to edit, and honestly, I don’t know how I feel about this chapter. I will let you all be the judge. Should I keep doing this one this way or just do it based on whatever comes to mind?

The New Girl in Town - Masterlist

Summary: When Rafe comes to your rescue at the boneyard, what happens when things develop with him rapidly? But maybe things aren’t what you thought initially. Are the people of Outerbanks right about the boy you’re starting to feel so much care for?

MDNI 18+

Warnings: Storms, grief, death, insinuation of sexual themes, violence, weapons, swearing, drug use, and drug abuse, as well as some slight talks of addiction. Sexual themes: unprotected sex, smut, slight aftercare, soft! Rafe

That night, from two separate spots on the same property, two people couldn’t sleep comfortably.

You laid on the Druther’s, soft volume playing on Netflix from Sarah’s laptop; you could feel the waves slowly rock the boat, the double door slightly open, letting in the biting sea breezes that floated through the night while you sat and stared out the window of the ship that looks towards Tannyhill.

Sarah's sleeping frame on the couch across from yours. rises slowly up and down from breathing.

Looking back towards the vast house, you notice one dim light is on and immediately recognize it as the room one door down from Sarah, Rafe's room.

Earlier, he nearly slammed the door so hard to his room it shook the whole wall that connected his room to his sisters, and then a giant storm cloud of doubt swarms you.

From the second you stepped foot on the island, you’d heard about a boy named Rafe who was troubled and unbalanced. The first thing you heard about him was right before you met him while moving in.

The moving caravan stopped at a hardware store; you were buying a drink while your dad needed razors for the box cutters your mom had newly ordered to unpack.

You entered the smaller store, smelling of freshly cut wood and slight hits of cleaning oils, soft elevator-type music played.

Other than your father and you, there were workers, including a few boys your age and an older man standing at the register, but they were the only occupants of the store.

As you were browsing the refrigerator section, trying to decide what to get. Faintly, you could hear two boys in the other aisle talking, and they seemed rather upset.

Trying your best to mind your business, you round the corner, making your way towards the register where you can already make out your dad’s smiling face, leaning on the counter and looking back towards you.

In the last moments, you catch the boy stocking shelves, his messy brown hair falling in his eyes, saying, “Then after all that bullshit, dude, I go looking for her only to find her right underneath Rafe fucking Cameron.”

The redheaded boy, who sits on the floor, stocking shelves, listening to the boy next to him, shaking his head while continuing stacking, says, “is how it is out here, always has been, man. That isn’t the first girlfriend you’ll have stolen right from under your nose, nor will it be the last. Kooks take what they want.”

This makes you stop and step back, looking down at what appears to be outlet covers. Still, too enveloped in the things you don’t know but are curious about, you pretend to pick them up and be reading the back but listening to the boys.

Your dad stands at the front counter, watching you for a moment, frowning as you look at the light switch covers but shrugs, walking to a display shelf they had set up for electric hand tools that weren’t far from the front.

“Cameron and all the snobby rich kids on this island get what they want not because they deserve it but because they're crazy, and Rafe, man, I mean, he’s ruthless; he’s borderline psychotic, nah not borderline, he is psychotic I mean there are so my examples…”

He begins to trail off but immediately starts again: “One time, I watched him beat the hell out of a dude at a party who touched his truck by accident, mind you; the man was smiling back blood in his teeth, taunting the kid who wasn’t even fully conscious anymore till people pulled him off. I’ll never forget that, and the kid still has a huge scar on the side of his head from the fight.”

The messy-haired boy had been intensely listening the entire time, just like you so much, so you think it’s time to stop being intrusive and be on your way, considering not only are you eavesdropping, but you’re taking part in gossip that could be entirely subjective you don’t know any of these people and it’s best not to make a prior illusion of someone you’ve yet to meet.

The last thing you hear as you leave the aisle back turned but recognize it to be the brown-haired boy's voice saying, “It sucks. I thought she liked me; Cameron has everything: the perfect family, house, and life; no wonder she doesn’t want someone like me when someone like him even offers. I’m just some kid who grew up on The Cut, so whatever, I guess, keep moving forward, right?” the red-haired boy pats his back, saying, “Don’t worry, bro, we got you Pogues for Life.”

Eventually, you reach the register, quickly pay, and hurry out the doors; your dad catches up behind you, pointing back and saying, “You find a looker in there cause if you did and you're too shy, I could—“

You cut him off with a rupture of laughter that leaves him wide-eyed, saying, “No, please, we all saw your wingman capabilities were subpar at best a few months ago; ring a bell, cute waiter on the royal Caribbean cruise we took for Mom's birthday.”

Your dad stops walking with you, turning to face you, becoming mock-offended, throwing his hand to his chest. “You smite me (F/N). That was one slip-up, and frankly, don’t blame me for the strawberry daiquiris; they did all the talking that night.”

You shake your head, giving him a skeptical look. “I don’t remember a glass of Strawberry and Rum saying to a fully grown man. Who was working; may I remind you. that if he didn’t already have a girlfriend and wanted a good one or just wanted a new one…I was single, and then leaving my freaking phone number on a napkin, nope, pretty sure it was you.”

You end poking him in the chest with a small laugh and kind eyes because it is a story to laugh about; he gives you a defeated look while pushing you both to walk back slowly. You don’t notice till halfway there your dad is relatively still, and his defeated look turns to regret or sorrow; “Dad.”

Right as you make it back to the caravan, your father looks up, eyes wide; he gently grabs your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands and placing a kiss on top of your head before pulling you in a vast Charlie-style bear hug, swinging you back and forth squeezing till you felt you couldn’t breathe but you laugh a hearty laugh.

Moments like these remind you of being a little girl and playing with your dad on the beach, collecting shells, and splashing and running along the water line. These moments made you feel free.

He sets you gently on the ground, saying as he’s hugging you, “This time is gonna be different, Peanut, I promise.” You hug him tighter, not precisely sure what he’s talking about, but getting an idea from the look of sorrow you saw shadow his face. You break apart, smiling at him and hopping in the car, driving to your new home.

And that’s when you finally saw him in the flesh; at first, you didn’t know who he was, but out of the group at Topper's playing basketball, he’s the one that immediately caught your eye.

When you saw him, you knew from that second he was not only gorgeous but so dangerous. he was playing ball with the boys, moderately sweaty but nowhere compared to the other two, who were nearly drenched, which showed his athleticism; he had hard lines in his eyebrows almost seeming to have a permanent frown on his face.

His hair, which was so sandy and dirty blond, reminded you of the beaches back home and their mix of yellow and brown sparkling slightly when the sun would glint on it, and it hung right in his eyes, causing him to have to move it out of his face.

When he finally took attention to your arrival, you knew he was looking; you could feel his piercing gaze laid on you like an ice cub was being set right on the back of your neck, but you always knew when all of them were looking wherever you went, you could feel them, but when you had Luca, that feeling didn’t matter. Then he’d gone missing, and he’s still lost.

Luca had been gone so long now with nothing but his necklace and a note; he was the one who made you grounded, but now you want to live cause what if you go missing tomorrow? Wouldn't you like to say you lived extraordinarily? Would you like to say you loved it greatly? that you had fought valiantly? 

Eventually, hearing a knock on the door, you opened it for the boys. You intentionally didn’t turn down your music, and watching them react to you was humorous but endearing.

Specifically, you watched Rafe and how his muscles flexed and unflexed under his shirt and his hair falling right in his eyes, making you want to walk over and push it out of the way for him. When you finally meet with his eyes, he asks you a question, and you smirk, seeing how much his eyes remind you of the sea, its depths, and darkness swirling around with the orbs of his irises.

You have never believed in love at first sight; it was an act of cinematic thrill, but you’d never really seen it or experienced it. Luca wasn’t your love at first sight. You had known and loved Luca your whole life, but you were eight years old when you knew you were in love with Luca, and from that day on, you loved him, and you loved him entirely.

He was your twin flame or soulmate in whatever sense it is. He helped to complete a part of you, but now, with him gone. You are changing and growing; what do you do when you’re sitting across from a man who’s standing and looking into you already like you hung the sun and the stars and for a reason unknown, you like it, you enjoy him, how he carries himself, the charm, the mystery, the coldness. Then, he also seems to show you the sincerity, gentleness, and fondness he has in him that he saves for unique events.

In a moment, you know one thing, and it is Rafe Cameron. He is going to be the death of you; from the moment he sat the dresser down in the room and looked around, softly taking in your space, you knew he was not what they say he is, whatever they make him out to be, it’s not truly him.

You’re going to understand who he truly is, and you have the same thoughts repeatedly as he jumps in for the clothes drives, goes on a drive with your dad, not losing it for you having to help Diana the other day and tonight picking you up from the Boneyard.

Rafe Cameron may be slightly self-absorbed and moody, but he cares much more than he can say or physically show.

As you come to from your thoughts, you realize you’ve been aimlessly staring at the ceiling of the boat at some point while being engrossed by the idea of a man you have yet to learn more about.

One last time, you glance at the windows, swearing to see the curtains slowly swaying as if someone had just walked away, and the light suddenly went out; with that, you turn your back to the window and fall asleep, letting the waves cradle you softly in your dreams.

————————————————————————

In the room now creeping with darkness, Rafe lies in his bed, staring at the door. He had been pacing his floors since he came back in from all the thinking of almost kissing you.

He was right there, and just like everything, Sarah had to get her nose right in it. He thinks back to earlier in the day when his sister had also tried to pull shit with him in front of you about Emma, which was a low blow, considering how many times Rafe has covered for her.

At one point, Rafe looked out to the boat, anchored at the end of their dock, looking to see if he saw any remnants of you sitting on the bow, looking out at the waves that are currently sparkling silver, with the light of the moon, beaming down onto it. 

When Rafe sees nothing but darkness, the pushing and pulling of the waves, and the boat rocking next to the dock, he walks away from the window, lies down and shuts off the light.

Still thinking about you, in many ways, especially how you felt pressed so close to his body, the warmth you emitted on the ride back to Tannyhill making him feel like he was wrapped in a blanket, his thoughts get muddled between his perverse and benevolent thoughts. Still, one’s he’s not willing to tell you just yet.

Rafe doesn’t sleep the rest of the night; he sees you every time he closes his eyes, which in turn makes his heart and mind pulse rapidly, causing Rafe to toss and turn all night, getting no sleep.

He finally succumbs to sleep after he sees the beginning of the orange and pink shades of the sunrise gleaming through his window, putting a smile on his face, comforting him enough to fall asleep thinking about the way you looked when you blushed at him, calling you beautiful.

————————————————————————

The next day, you stayed for brunch with the Cameron family, minus Rafe; he didn’t show up, and nobody was sure where he was, considering his door was closed and no one saw him. They asked Sarah to knock, and she returned, saying, “He’s still sleeping, I think.”

It was lovely getting to know your new friend and her family and learning about their dynamic.

Everyone sat laughing and talking when Sarah kicked your foot under the table, making you look up to her; she nodded towards the Druthers. You see a boy who’s jumping onto the boat; you shake your head, indicating you’ll cover for her as she slowly gets up, saying Excuse me quietly and making her way to the dock and down on the boat; no one pays mind to her leaving though you can faintly see her before suddenly Ward says to you.

“So (F/N) what made your family move from California to the Outerbanks?” you look up at nearly the whole family looking at you anticipatory; you clear your throat and take a sip of water. The easy answer is your dad’s surfing business wanting to expand.

The honest answer was a lot; though you never wanted to be home, it seems like you could never leave home; it was never-ending the cycle of you feeling Luca. Whenever you took a step out the door, you’d start to sob and turn right back around and go in again. Since coming to the Outerbanks, you’ve been out more than you have in the year since you got the call: “There was a storm. Luca and Cameron, they can’t find them, but they will”

That sentence rings through your head, making you feel like spiders are crawling in your stomach and creeping up to create intricate webs on your bones.

You smile the best you can, noticing Sarah walking back to the table, looking somewhat frustrated with her conversation, simply replying, “It was time for a change, and Dad wanted to expand.” before you can say anything.

Sarah plops down as if nothing happened and says, “Sorry, I forgot this on the boat. What did I miss?” she smiles and holds up her phone even though Sarah has had her phone the whole time looking at you before you can say anything Ward says “Just getting to know (F/N)” he smiles at you.

“What does your mother do again?” you go to answer, but Sarah says, “C’mon, Dad, let the girl eat!�� he chuckles, and you say, “It’s alright, she’s a history teacher.”

You check your phone and see your reminder going off. “I’m so sorry to be so rude, but I just realized my mother needs me to help her today, so I have to go,” Sarah smirks at you, knowing exactly where you are off to

You exchange pleasantries, secretly reminding Sarah to text you later about the boat. She vehemently shakes her head, and you’re rushing through Tannyhill, bag in hand when suddenly, you run straight into a firm, broad chest.

Long, strong arms immediately wrapped around your waist to protect you from falling on your butt. The fresh woody and citrus notes seem to encircle your mind and body, and immediately after that, you go from tense to relaxed, your head resting with your ear against the chest of the person and your heart thumping rapidly. You smile, closing your eyes and saying, “Rafe.”

Rafe's arms tense around you, and you hear him huff out a breath, looking up into his cosmically blue irises; he’s already looking down with a slight smirk when he says, “What’s got you in such a rush, Angel?” his husky voice dancing through your ears.

Rafe is shocked to see that you’re still here, and he’s even more shocked you’re still allowing him to hold you in his arms like this.

Last night, the fact that you ran away with Sarah so fast when you almost kissed made him think you didn’t mean any of it and maybe you’d gotten drunk at that kegger.

Now, though, as he looks down, you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him; you look so small to him, saying in your discernible melodic voice

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m off to help my parents.” Rafe grunts out a croaky sounding “Where sweetheart?” and hearing how he said it made you start to word vomit everything you can think on the spot.

“Dad wants to make new advertisements and asked me to accompany the ambassadors today for a photoshoot. I have an eye for that, at least by Charlie’s standards. Also, since it’s about being here and he wants me to take over eventually, I’m supposed to be in the commercialization like how dad used to, and I’m just nervous.” you giggle slightly, realizing if you kept babbling; he’d stand, and hold you while you did.

Noticing this, you went to step back, but his hand didn’t leave your waist. Your hands dropped to his, laying them gently over his hands.

You both look back and forth at each other for a moment, searching the other's eyes, not knowing what to do or what move to make. Rafe had the urge to drag you up the stairs to his room, throw you down on his bed, and kiss you on every expanse of skin exposed to the eyes he had roaming you.

You feel the look he gives you like an apex predator hunting small game, waiting for the moment it turns its head to check in the other direction before it pounces; in the few seconds you stand there, you can feel the way his fingertips dig into your side like he’s afraid you’ll vanish before him for some reason that feeling makes you pull towards him.

Both of you feel the pull between you like an invisible string slowly yanking until it creates the perfected knots; your faces are even closer, then you can feel his hot breath fanning across your cheeks

Rafe gives it one nudge, pulling your body closer so both of your chests meet, eyes still locked; he could feel every curve and angle of your body pressing perfectly against him; it left his skin tingling all over his body, touching you like this.

He also could feel how warm you were, like you’d been laying out in the sun tanning on the hottest day of summer, but it made the blood that usually runs cold with anticipation get warmer. He leaned down just a bit to ghost his lips over yours.

In the lightest voice he could muster, he asks, “Would you like an escort to this event, ma’am?” he watches the corners of your lips curl, making his stomach twist and turn and a smile creep on his face.

You say, lips almost brushing his back. “I can protect myself this time, big guy, but I appreciate the offer.” Before Rafe can register what you’re thinking, you’re leaning into his lips, placing such a chaste peck it left his lips feeling like hot coals had burned them.

The next thing he knows, he hears your melodic laughter bouncing off the walls as you skip towards his door and smile from ear to ear, just like the day you met. Rafe couldn’t move, shocked not only that you had already kissed him but also that he didn’t react to it.

He watched your back, knowing it was in your nature to vanish. The best part about you is that you bring all of this joy wherever you go, and when you’re gone, you take it with you, but the aftershock of your nature leaves ripples like waves in the ocean, which seems to be the constant reminder of you to Rafe.

Your (H/C) hair bounces from side to side, wisps flying backward toward him, almost calling him to follow where your footsteps take him.

Once you make it to the front door with it slightly ajar, the sun creating a halo, you look over your shoulder to Rafe, saying, “See you around, Reef.” you are out the door before he can respond.

Rafe takes a minute to readjust himself and rewind what just happened in his mind because he, for the first time in his life, doesn’t know what to do with you.

It seems like when you’re around, his mind appears to shut down while also going into overdrive. After a few minutes of contemplating, he turns to walk outside to his family and is met face to face with Sarah, who’s looking at him disgusted.

Immediately, Rafe looks at her with a scowl, saying, “Why are you looking at me like that?” Sarah scoffs at him and walks right past, saying nothing and stomping her way up the stairs.

This entire show of emotion makes Rafe roll his eyes, yelling at her up the stairwell, “Drop the fucking attitude, Sarah. You don’t need to be so god damn difficult always; speak, stop acting like a child.” with this, he hears her door slam shut making him stomp his way to the kitchen huffing about her ruining everything for him.

On the walls outside Tannyhill, after taking a leap of faith and kissing Rafe, you sat in your Jeep outside the home, looking up at the vast white building and thinking everything anyone says about him is wrong; he’s just a boy who wants to be loved.

Whenever you do something and turn back to see if he’s looking, his eyes never seem to leave. When you call, he comes. He is always saying what you feel you need to hear. These thought makes you giddy and send you to The Hut to meet your parents, feeling like you’re on a cloud, gracing your face with a brilliant smile and a new rhythm in your heart.

————————————————————————

The next day, Sarah and Rose came over to invite you and your mother to go and sit with The Mason family later that morning, and you both gladly obliged.

They were a kind, small family of just Mr. and Mrs. Mason; they also had a sweet little girl who was only six years old; her name was Ellie; when the mothers were talking, you and Sarah were sitting on the porch steps looking around at the damage Hurricane Agatha created neither of you talking just observing the surroundings every once and awhile Sarah would text presumably Topper on her phone.

At some point, Ellie comes up to you, tugging on your pants to get you to look down, and she asked you if you would walk around the yard with her; you looked to her mother, and she shook her head, waving her hand and saying it was fine so you kneeled next to the girl smiling holding her by the shoulders saying “I would love to go on a walk with you” she looks at you wide-eyed and whispering, “Do you think Sarah will come to?”

Sarah picked up her head, hearing this on the spot. She looked like she was in a world of her own before. Her eyes are soft but show such care as she says, “I would love to join your walk.” she puts her hand out for Ellie, and you all walk down the porch and around the yard, talking about princesses, her Barbie’s village, and her Elephant that’s been missing since the storm.

At some point, you’re sitting on the dock while Sarah and Ellie walk back and forth down it, and you see three figures emerge from the side of the house; two of the boys wave towards the mothers sitting on the porch, and one stands with a drink and sunglasses staring right at the dock which is so obviously Rafe.

You look away, somewhat nervous seeing him after the kiss; when you glance away, you spot what looks like a stuffed animal under wires and grass.

In a moment, you stand calling Sarah and Ellie, pointing and asking, “Did you take your elephant in that boat?” she shakes her head vehemently. This makes Sarah kneel, asking about her stuffed animal and then saying she’ll get it.

“Sarah, are you sure we don’t know if those wires are live?” she smiles and laughs, waving you off. “It’s fine (F/N). I doubt it, but I can be careful.” She starts to climb onto the plank, and you kneel, taking Ellie and wrapping your arm around her shoulder, taking a step back from the dock, rubbing the side of her shoulder gently.

Rafe talks with Topper and Kelce, eyes tracing from his sister being stupid to you. He can’t help but smirk and sip his drink, thinking about how good you look, being caring and especially caring towards a child. You seem to be protecting the little girl, which makes Rafe smirk deeper into his drink.

At this point, all the moms are yelling, and Rose has come down trying to coax Sarah. Then none, to Rafe's surprise, Sarah pretends to be shocked, which makes everyone except Rafe and you panic.

Topper yells, rushing forward, and the moms gasp; you have the little girl tight in your arm, eyes wide in shock, and Ellie screams, “Sarah!” starting to cry; you pull her head to your neck, gently shushing her, saying, “No, no, she’s okay, it’s okay,” he can hear the slight quiver your voice makes which makes him roll his eyes scowling at Sarah knowing she’s doing this purposefully.

Your head pops up at the sound of Sarah laughing. Like little Ellie in your arms, your horrified faces turn to small smirks at the show Sarah put on. He takes one more look at you, waiting to see if maybe you'd look back, but you don’t, so he turns to head to Tannyhill.

After all of this, your mother calls your name, holding her phone and shaking it, “(F/N) Crush Waves, we gotta go.” your eyes go wide, remembering that you’re meant to be going to promote at the Charleston convention center they were putting on a Surf and Water sports event your dad wanted to go and set up a booth for some networking of the new branch of The Hut.

Once Sarah is back by Ellie, you rush off, but not before you look back to where Rafe was standing before, seeing him disappearing around the corner, frowning but continuing your pace off and out with your mom.

————————————————————————

Sarah🎀🦋: Want to come to the church's beach cleanup? Save the sea animals and get sand between your toes. Plus, your lead singer is going 😏

You wake up the following day to this text from Sarah, making you laugh and immediately messaging back.

(F/N)🗺️🌏: Sure, you can always use a little sand and some Kelce in your life.

You immediately get ready wearing shorts and a cropped shirt that says St. Jeffersons Athletics, which used to be your brother's years ago. You brush your hair and teeth, throw on some mascara, walk over to Topper's house, and knock.

The door is swung open, and you are met face to face with Topper's mother smiling “(F/N). What a pleasure to see you; what brings you here?” You go to speak, but you see Topper's head pop up from behind his mom, saying, “Hey (F/N), come in, Mom, she’s coming to the church to clean up with us.” she moves, and you walk through the door.

Topper takes you up the stairs to his room; you walk in to see Kelce lounging back, playing video games; when his head turns and sees you, he jumps up, walks over to you, and wraps an arm around you. “how are you, girl?” you smile hugging tightly back before you both step back while letting go saying “Pretty good going as usual” you all make friendly conversation for a few minutes before heading off to the beach.

Topper left separately from you and Kelce on his boat to pick up Sarah while Kelce drove you to the spot, allowing conversation.

He showed you different places as you passed on the island while listening and car partying to music; at one point, he stopped at a house and said he’d be right back, and you presumed it was his house by the way he slammed the door.

When Kelce re-emerged from the house, he looked at you, smiling, holding a considerably large water bottle, shaking it in the air, hopping back in the car, and handing it to you.

Your face scrunches, and you lift the bottle to your eyes, inspecting it. “What is this exactly?” you ask questioningly; Kelce laughs at the look on your face. “Don't worry there, pretty girl, just some fuel for us for clean up; trust me, these things tend to be a little taxing.” With that, he pulled off from the house towards the beach.

When you got to the beach, you listened to the pastor talk a little before he sent you all off; most of the event, you spent with Wheezie and Kelce so as not to intrude on their time. Sarah did, although, come and ask how the surf event went, and you let her know only a few small league surfers showed up this time, but Dad's table ran well; he ran out of business cards to distribute.

Sarah also ranted to you about the attitude John B gave her and how he stole scuba and got fired, blaming Sarah, but she didn’t tell Ward. You frowned at the fact he stole, not seeing the reason he would need to return something you’re stealing; essentially, the boy lost a job over the air, but you shrugged, saying, “I don’t know, Sarah, he’s gone through a lot maybe give him a little slack, he’s alone now. he misses his dad and is trying to figure it out on his own.” she stares a moment kinda shaking her head and squinting her eyes.

She also asked if you could help her cover if Ward calls looking for her and says she’s staying with you, and you agree; after these conversations, Topper comes back to walk with Sarah a bit, leaving you to talk to Wheezie also at some point during the conversation Kelce had disappeared.

As you walk up and down cleaning the surf with Wheezie, you hear her scoff, watching Topper and her sister; you look at her, eyebrow arched, asking, “What is it, Wheez?”

She whips her head to you with a scowl. “Sarah is what it is? She has been sneaking around, and she’s not telling me anything, but I saw John B leave the boat the other day, and she’s been sleeping there; she’s just being weird.”

Wheezie continues walking with you, throwing trash she sees in bags and stomping her feet; this makes you slow a bit, and say to her, “I used to think the same thing about my brother until he covered for me one day when I really needed him to.”

You stop waiting for the girl to turn to you, and she does, getting ready to say something, but before she can, you smile, cutting her off. “You may not understand or like your sister's actions or decisions, but she’s the only sister you've got, and she’s always going to love and protect you no matter how mad you get. Just remember that.” she sits thinking for a moment, slowly shaking her head

When you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you stiffen slightly until you see the mystery liquid from earlier shoved in your face; you hear Kelce through a chuckle behind you, saying, “Need a fill-up.”

You grab the bottle, take a sip, and wince at its strength. You hand it back to Kelce, and he walks to Sarah and Topper, you and Wheezie not far behind, and has them take a drink. Wheezie grabs it, making your jaw drop, and you start laughing while Sarah asks Wheezie, “Since when did you start drinking?” She shrugs and smiles. “Today.” This makes Sarah scold Kelce.

You all giggle, and suddenly, the Pastor walks around the corner to ask how you’re all doing. Topper calls to him, “Looking great, sir, we’re,” Kelce adds, “clearing the stretch.” he hides the water bottle of alcohol while you and Sarah say simultaneously, “Just hydrating.”

Eventually, it is the end prayer, and you guys are heading out; you tell Kelce you will head back with Topper and Sarah to help her on mission ‘Ward doesn't need to know.’

Sarah will ride back to your house with you, so Ward thinks she’s there. So Tooper drives you back to Tannyhill, and when you see Rafe's bike out front, it makes your heart skip.

Suddenly, Wheezie is pushing past you and Sarah, fast walking on the dock back to the house; you both exchange a bemused look and follow her slowly into the house.

As you go upstairs, you can hear Wheezie getting sick, and you look to Sarah, who shakes her head, letting you know she’ll be good. You walk to Sarah’s room, peeking to see if Rafe is home, but his door is closed, so you go into Sarah’s room, choose a book from her bookshelf, and lie on her bed looking through it.

When Sarah comes back, she asks you to talk to Ward with her, so you make your way down to the porch; on the way there, you and Sarah can hear Ward scolding Rafe; you stand back while Sarah sneaks up to listen; you can hear little bits, but it just makes you look down at your shoes to keep yourself from feeling too much guilt intruding.

At one point, you catch Ward's voice becoming more stern than before. “You need to get it together, Rafe, or you can go live on the Cut.” You don’t hear a response, but you do listen to him raising his voice at him and repeating himself and scolding Rafe for laughing at him.

What makes your blood boil is when you hear him say to his son, “Now get out of here; I’m sick of looking at you.” They go back and forth until Rafe walks through the door. And he hears Sarah, and he looks at her with so much coldness, scoffing and turning.

When you both make eye contact, it’s like everything goes on pause; you go to say his name, but the rage and wounded look in his eyes overtake you; he shakes his head and continues walking; you follow slightly, saying, “Rafe-wait” and your heart dropped when he kept going straight out the door.

Turning back to Sarah when she called your name, a slightly confused look shakes her to the porch; you slowly and cautiously move towards the porch, now feeling somewhat different about the man on the other side.

When Rafe made it to his bike, he whispered a hard “fuck” and then got on his motorcycle off to Barry’s to try and make up for all of this.

————————————————————————

On the drive to your house, music plays in the background; you don’t say much as you get closer; you finally speak up, saying, “Does Ward always talk to Rafe like that?” Sarah looks at you, squinting slightly, almost like she doesn’t know why you care. “I know he may seem charming to you (F/N), but it’s an act. Rafe sees everything and anything as property, and the more you have, the better you are; he’s got problems.” She shakes her head, looking forward, and you park the Jeep in your driveway.

Sarah turns, grabbing you by the hand, looking into your eyes, an earnest look on her face. “I know you may like him (F/N), but I care for you, and I don’t want him to mess around with you as he does with everybody else.” you slowly shake your head and say, “We’ll have to see what time will do.” with that, you’re slipping your hand from hers and opening the door smiling your usual smile but with slight discomfort and disappointment shadowing you “Have fun with Top Sarah.” she starts to say “(F/N)—“ but you’ve already closed the Jeeps door and are disappearing into your house.

When you enter, your mom and dad see you come through the kitchen entryway to the stairs, your mother trying to stop you at the bottom. “Hey Peanut, how was the beach cleanup?” both your parents stair at you, expecting excitement as usual, but they’re met with your back, and you say, “Fine.” they let you continue up the stairs after you are gone from view your parents look at each other, and your mom says “I’ve got it.”

When your mom knocks on the door, you are lying on your bed holding the sea shell bracelet you and Luca made when you were eight.

He had gone and found all the shells, and your parents helped you both get the tools to glue hooks, and you made it a bracelet, then Luca insisted you keep it. Sometimes, you wish you could ask him what to do cause he was the only one who knew you.

You hear a knock and sit up to see your mom open the door; she comes to sit in your bed with you a moment before saying, “Honey, what’s going on?” you sit for a short time, and she sits next to you, rubbing circles in your upper back.

After a while, you speak up, “The people out here seem so mixed up, like that Ward Cameron mom today. I literally heard him say to his son’s face he is sick of looking at him who even says that to their child.”

You throw your head in your hand, shaking it. “Also, there is Sarah; don’t get me wrong, I like her, but she’s so judgmental of him.” Saying this makes you stand, turning to look at your mom. “This whole island does, Mom; he’s been so sweet; he reminds me so much of Luca.” this part makes you pause, looking wide-eyed at your mom, who looks back softly.

A long moment passed, and your mom stood walking to you, taking your shoulder in her hands, brushing a hair from your eyes, and gently saying, “My sweet girl, the world will sometimes turn the victim into a villain, but you, my girl are so bright do what you know best ride the waves let it take you where you know” she kisses your forehead and leaves you to think.

————————————————————————

A few hours later, Rafe’s at Topper's getting ready for the party; when he’s in Topper's room grabbing the coke from his bag, he sees you lying on your window seal, looking out towards the bit of the sea. You can see at the back edge of the house, and your windows open, you are singing along to “In My Mind’ by Lyn Lapid

Rafe sees the sadness in your eyes; even from this far, your brow is creased, which makes him want to come over and run his thumb to make your face rest; it is too pretty to look so sad.

He opens Topper’s window, hearing fully now your voice rings out, singing; he sits on the edge and watches as your voice carries through the window.

Your skin seems to have a soft glow on it from the lights of your room. Your hair was wet like you’d let it dry after jumping straight in the ocean, creating beachy waves, making it look layered in beautiful shades of (H/C).

He listens to the words in the song but in your tone, making it feel like it’s just for him; he hears you sing

“Oh, but darling, running ain't enough to escape from

The monsters in my brain

People say I'm quiet most of the time

If only you knew what goes on in my mind.”

At this point, he can’t help but lean out, calling to you, “Your voice is very angelic; it reminds me of something.” your head whips towards Rafe's face, beaming, “Hey, Rafe.” immediately, your face drops.

You say, trying not to be loud but just enough for him to hear you. “are you okay?” he shakes his head, smiling. “Don’t worry bout me, angel; say how you would like to come to the party tonight.” you nod your head immediately, making Rafe smirk as you close your window.

He watches you scurry around your room, getting ready and still smiling, hoping for something good.

————————————————————————

By the time you make it over to Topper's house, there are people everywhere, and you are bumping into someone everywhere you walk till you feel a warm hand grabbing yours; you meet the smiling face of Kelce with a drink in his other hand. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.” you smile back and move your face to his ear cause the music and people are so loud, saying to him, “I wasn’t, but someone asked me to come.”

This makes Kelce smile almost shyly, and he turns his head to your ear as he says, “Cmom, let’s get you a drink, and we’ll chill by the pool; it’s less crowded.” you shake your head, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Rafe but you don’t see anything over the number of people. It’s so crowded you kept getting pushed, so you’ll hope he looks for you soon.

You were by the pool sipping a Gin and Sprite, talking to Kelce and a girl named Myra when you heard people yelling, “Toppers on the roof.” you looked over, laughing, knowing this is exactly what your friends back home would do Kelce nudges you whispering “10 bucks he belly flops” This makes you laugh throwing your head back grabbing his arm to steady yourself

You look at him with seriousness, saying, “I’m not gonna bet on my friend's pain, but 20 bucks he gets Sarah out there with him, and she freaks out halfway down,” giving him an evil smile.

He laughs, throwing his arms around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. You wrap your arm around his waist while he says, “You know, I like how you think I think we’re gonna be real good friends.”

You laugh again, laying your head on his shoulder, saying, “We are friends, weirdo,” watching Sarah and Tooper jump from the roof, you both celebrating for them and laughing as he hands you a 20 since you called it.

From afar, Rafe could feel his chest constrict, and his blood started to boil. You and Kelce were looking way too cozy for his liking. He didn’t even know you’d made it here yet, that is, until you laughed at Kelce and ran off with the girl Myra he knew from being in school.

Rafe watches Kelce's eyes trace the other girl, not you smirking; he walks off into the party until he can sell the coke; he can’t get distracted.

He’s got to do that before he can talk to you and do the things he’s been thinking about.

————————————————————————

When you eventually see Rafe again, you walk up from behind with Myra beside you. You look at the table covered in drinks and money and some white powder. All of the girls are talking and staring at Rafe, and he’s charming; the one he sits next to is bumping knees with him, and he leans back all of a sudden like he’s relaxed. Topper walks by you looking pissed off; you try and say

“Hey, top you alr—“ but he walks past you, and Rafe notices him, bringing the girl’s attention to Topper; catching your eyes for a moment, you frown, looking from him to the enormous group of women to the powder and he continues catching your eyes every few seconds as he talks.

When you see Kelce making his way to you and Myra, you nod at him and slowly disappear into the house and push through the house until you make it to the front quickly; you make it to your home and slowly and quietly go upstairs, laying in the darkness of your room staring at your ceiling.

You thought about the act Rafe was putting on, and it makes you think back to the hardware store and all the comments about someone named Emma.

Was Rafe really what they made him out to be? Are you just another venture to conquer for him? These thoughts make your mind spin like a whirlpool getting out of control.

————————————————————————

After hours, you can still hear the music from Topper's house, but it’s gotten much quieter. You lay looking at the photos, missing home, your friends, and yours, and Lucas spots everything that reminds you of him.

Then, like a message from heaven, you hear the pit-pat of something hitting your window; you get up and peek out to see at the bottom, Rafe has little rocks from Topper's driveway and is tossing them at your window

When Rafe eventually sees your face appear in the window, he sighs in relief after he did that last sale and bumps with Topper; he had gotten up to go over to you, but you are already gone.

Kelce said he saw you go into the house, so Rafe checked everywhere; he even accidentally walked in on some couple doing it in Topper guest’s bathroom, having to do a slight double take to make sure your cute floral skirt you wore was nowhere in sight lucky for him it was not you.

You open the window, saying with a smile and harshly joking tone, “You’re gonna break my window there, Romeo.” he chuckles, looking at his feet, saying back while looking back to you, “Can I come in?” you shake your head motioning towards the front.

That’s where you meet at the door; you open it, and he can see the darkness casting shadows on your (E/C) eyes; you immediately grab his hand and drag him with soft feet up the stairs; he follows willingly, and you guide him to your room where the window his now closed along with the shades this makes his head tilt, but his head turns to you when he hears your quiet voice say “What was all that about Rafe.”

He stutters for a few seconds, but you stand patiently, waiting for a response before he sighs and says, “It was coke.” your eyes start to get comprehensive, but he rushes to you, taking you in his arms. You stiffen slightly and say, “It’s just a party fix, angel, not a regular thing. Plus, I was selling for a friend tonight.” you start relaxing, but he can feel you shiver slightly.

“Be careful doing that kinda stuff, Rafe; you could get hurt, or what if you get add—“Before you can finish, he cuts you off, taking a finger to your chin and lifting it so he can meet those gorgeous eyes looking back and forth between both of them mapping both of them out and how your face was twisted in worry and care.

Rafe smiles at the look, making a warmth spread throughout him, whispering as he gets closer, “Are you worried about me, angel?” you smile shyly, simply shaking your head, and that’s when Rafe leans down and captures your lips with his.

Slowly, you feel yourself nearly melting backward; you take a step back, dragging him with you, and he feels it too, the way your tiny fists curl into his shirt; he keeps on walking with you slowly, letting you guide him, lips barely breaking contact until, eventually, you make contact with the mattress at the back of your knees. You almost fall, but Rafe grabs your lower back, putting his arm out, gently laying you back, and caging you underneath him.

You both break the kiss, breathing heavily, staring at each other, almost shocked. Then Rafe feels your small hands come up to cup his cheeks, pulling him back down this time, you kissing harsher.

He feels the tip of your tongue brush his lips, and he opens his mouth, taking control and exploring the sweet taste of your mouth; he runs his tongue gently on the underside of yours, coaxing a small moan to ring through Rafe's ears.

You slowly run your hands up from his cheeks to his neck, splaying your fingers through his hair, feeling how each strand slides easily past your fingers.

He’s kissing down your jaw to your neck, hands trailing your sides until one ghosts the side of your breast and moving back down, you quickly grab his wrist, moving it right onto your left breast, putting your hand over his, moving his to grip the fat of your breast this makes Rafe moan and grind his hips down in between your legs setting off a small whimper feeling his hard length pressing your core he hums a gruff “Do you see what you do to me, princess.”

Suddenly, Rafe feels you pushing him back, and he quickly moves, thinking he’s gone too far, when all of a sudden, he’s staring at you, who’s wearing a smirk;

You remove your shirt, tossing it to the side; he eyes your breasts lying on your chest; they look so soft, and as your chest has made contact with the cold air of your room, your nipples perk slightly.

Rafe's eyes trail down, watching how your figure maps out from your chest to your stomach down to the swell of your hips and to your thighs still lying on the bed.

Rafe looks at your smile and your eyes. He then just quickly removes his shirt, dropping to his knees in front of you, kissing your knees up your thighs, whispering, “I didn’t believe there was any way you could get more beautiful, but you’re always proving me wrong, princess” you lean your head back enjoying the feeling of his lips pressing to your skin like a car heater getting warm after driving five minutes in the brisk winter air.

He makes it to the bottom hem of your sleep shorts with his lips looking up at you as his finger hooks into the waistband of the shorts. “Can I?” Saying nothing, you lift your hips, and he quickly tugs away your shorts, revealing your olive green laced bikini-cut panties.

Rafe takes a considerable breath laying his head face down on your thigh; he can feel his cock throbbing painfully below, leaking precum onto his boxers under the shorts he wore. he sighs once more, saying with his head still down, “I’ve wanted you so bad since I saw you, but I don’t want to fuck this up” you guide him to look at you.

“I want you, Rafe,” and with that, Rafe had his fingers hooked in your panties, pulling them down and kissing up and down your knees to your thighs; you sighed, relaxing back, feeling his lips and hands trail you when he hooks his hand under one of your knees; you quickly allow him to pull open legs and he lets out a breath saying

“Holy shit, you’re dripping wet, angel. I haven’t even touched you yet.” You whimper from the cold contact from the air but also his words when, all of a sudden, you can feel his hot breath right next to your core, and then you feel his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your soaking wet bud.

Rafe starts to slowly suck on your clit, one hand coming up to tease your hole, making circles around the opening. This sensation causes you to squirm, making him smirk a moment, saying, “You like it, princess?” you shake your head rapidly, stating, “Yes, yes, please more.” he immediately dives back in, unable to hold back, hearing you plead.

As he goes back in, he slowly slides a digit into your tight hole simultaneously while sucking your clit, feeling you immediately squeezing his finger tightly and pulling him in. he licks strips up and down your clit circling his tongue when he gets to the top.

He hears you making a hissing noise, so he stops moving his finger and looks up immediately, asking, “Does that hurt?” you shake your head, eyes closed, and head back. “so good, Rafe” you let out a pant making Rafe slowly add another finger moving them skillfully in and out of you which makes your back arch off the bed he pulls his head back lips glistening with your wetness “you taste so fucking sweet, but you look even better angel god damn your killing me” the hand that was fingering kept its pace. His other came down to trace the hard length in his shorts.

He kept his pace, looking at you and hand back to gripping any part of your body he could reach. He could feel your slight fluttering around his digits, and then your voice came in a small pant “I need to feel you, Rafe.” he wastes no time removing his fingers from you and reaching his hand to your mouth; you open and gladly swirl your tongue around his fingers, moaning.

Rafe lets out a groan, removing his finger and leaning down, grabbing your chin, kissing you hard, teeth and tongues clashing for dominance.

He feels your small hands tug on his shorts and say, “Please, Rafe,” which makes him chuckle at the whine you let out when you can’t pull them down.

Brushing a hair out of his eyes, he reaches into the waistband, untying his short's drawstring. He cups your cheek with a hand, looking into your eyes, and says, “Are you sure you want this? Cause once I have you, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you.”

The way you answer him is by tugging his shorts down to his knees and letting them fall the rest of the way to the floor.

Then you fall back on your bed laughing, hands behind your head, body strewn on the messy sheets from your moving around; you are smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world.

Rafe smiles at you and climbs on top of you, slowly pumping his length; he’s smiling down at you. “You are something you know that right?” you smile, placing a kiss on the apple of his cheek. “says yo—“

Rafe doesn’t let you finish as he slowly presses his length into your opening, making your eyes blow out, and your mouth fall open; he brushes hair from your face, saying softly, “Shh angel, let me make you feel good.”

He moves his hips slightly at first. The feeling of your pussy pulling him in makes him groan and bury his head to your neck, sucking lightly on the skin, moaning at how much he feels you stretch.

You bring your hands to his back, nails dragging down the skin lightly, whispering in his ear, “Rafe.” this makes him rut his hips faster, feeling your legs shaking already, making him groan. “You like that, princess.”

“Yess,” you said breathlessly, gripping the back of his neck till it turned white under the pressure. He groans, feeling the way you tighten around him, and he lifts your leg to get a better angle, the other hand coming down to rub circles on your clit, laying close to hear the little breaths and whimpers you release.

When you connect your lips to his, you can’t help but release a moan at all the tension he seems to be pulling from your body; he smirks but starts to feel his balls tighten and hips stutter.

When he quickly leans back to pound into you, you bring your now free hands to grip and massage the flesh of your bare breasts. He moans, saying, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Angel.” his unsteady thrusts go faster. “God, you are so sexy.”

The pace he’s set has you whimpering and moaning loudly until you are nearly lifting your hips. He has to push you back into the bed. He's pressing so hard you know it will be bruised tomorrow.

At one point, he seems to brush the spot deep in you, sending a moan tumbling from your mouth with the words, “Gonna cum, Raf—“ but right as you are about to say it, your whining and cumming all over his dick.

The feeling of your pussy fluttering and pulsating on his cock makes him thrust one last time, letting out a throaty “Fuck yes, baby,” releasing his seed deep in you falling to hold himself over you catching his breath and leaving chaste kisses to your jaw, neck, and cheek.

He pulls out of you, and you can feel his cum leaking down your legs; he quickly walks to your en-suite bathroom, grabs a towel, and gets one side damp, walking back and cleaning you up, whispering sweet nothings about how your body is a dream and how beautiful you look even in the darkness.

Eventually, after you both clean, you crawl under your comforter, lifting it to him, who’s still standing on the side of your bed; he tosses the towel toward your laundry hamper, lifting the blanket and putting one arm under your head, you immediately curl into his chest.

You nuzzle your head, feeling his warmth and woody citrusy scent and rhythmic heartbeat. Rafe lays his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling your even breaths and smelling the ocean breeze and coconut scent. Both of you falling into a comfortable sleep feeling warm and content.

————————————————————————

The following day, you woke to the side Rafe occupied the night before, empty but still slightly warm; you blinked the sleep from your eyes a few times to see a sticky note on your vanity mirror; you hopped out of your bed, pulling it off, reading.

Angel Girl,

Leaving you in bed like this is nearly killing me, but Topper made me promise to golf with him. Meet at the Marina later. I’ll take you out. Thank you for last night, Angel. You are a dream.

- Reef ❤️

You smile, reading it, and hear a knock and your dad call through the door. “You decent?” you call back to him, hurrying for clothes. “one sec,” throwing on shorts and an old school shirt from last night and kicking your panties under your bed. “Come in.”

Your dad walks in smiling, carrying what seems to be some folder. “Hey, peanut, you don’t look ready.” you tilt your head questioningly, and he chuckles. “Remember we’re meeting Mr. Orien for golf; he wants to talk the deal over a game.” your eyes widen, and you shake your head, running off to the closet. “Yeah, sorry, slept badly. Be down in five.” your dad nods his head, leaving the room, saying, “Don’t rush too much. You’ll give yourself a heart attack,” and closes your door.

Then, 15 minutes later, you were in the car with your dad on your way to the Island Club for the business meeting; when you got there, you spotted Topper's truck, but you knew it was unlikely for you to see Rafe till later

Nearly half an hour later, in the middle of you and your dad golfing, you are on the third hole, and you tell your dad you want to walk to the main clubhouse and grab a soda; he shakes his head, knowing you weren’t the biggest fan of golfing.

On your walk back, you are thinking about Rafe and how you hadn’t felt like you did last night in a long time. It has been a year since kissing someone, still holding out for Luca. Something was different about Rafe; he reminds you of Luca so much in so many ways but is so mysterious in others.

You’re broken from your stupor when there is commotion by some voices ahead of you; suddenly, you hear a distinguishing voice: “Hey, Rafe, Calm Down, man.” Then clear as day, you heard him scream, “Stay down bitch” You walk as quick as you can toward their voices coming into view; you watch as Rafe slams a golf club right next to the ground by someone who looks familiar.

You stand watching him as he yells at the boy on the ground; your heart shatters watching the man who was so gentle with you the night before going as far as to leave you a note to wake up to hurting someone and being so vulgar. You watch him crouch over the boy, and Topper turns to see you, making you hurry into the bush so that he can’t catch you.

Rafe finally diffused slightly but still taunted the boy, Tooper looking back to where you were standing, eyes trailing to you, giving you a look of pity and fear. Your back goes straight against the tree as you hear them running off, and you round the corner to see the boy rolling on the ground, trying to get back up.

You rush, and as you get closer, you see Pope nearly tripping over the sand, and you drop on your knees next to him, hands ghosting over his body, saying, “Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry. What can I do ?”

He groans and says, “It’s not your fault, but help up would be much appreciated.” you stick your hand out and pull him up and help lightly brush the sand from his body

You look down and help pick up what he had. Pope is still standing. “I’m sorry, Pope, I can’t believe the—“ he grabs the things in your hand, turning while saying, “Just go (F/N); you don’t need to be seen with a Pouge.” he turns, walking. “Pope—wait.” you try and catch up to him. He is gone before you can even try to say anything else.

Hanging your head, you go back to your dad; when you reach him, he sees the look on your face, and when you sit in the golf cart, not moving or talking, he walks up asking.

“What’s up, Peanut?” you shake your head, eyes scanning the grass for the boy you saw who you thought you had all wrong.

Your mind is racing a million miles thinking about last night and how you felt so connected with him, and then seeing how he treated Pope shocked you. It made you second guess everything you thought.

Maybe Rafe was precisely the person they said. Perhaps you’d be another girl on the notch of his belt. Then you think of the note and the boneyard incident. You were broken in your thought when Dad nudged you, letting you know it was time to return the cart and go home.

————————————————————————

As your dad drove you home, you laid your head against the window, listening to the music he let you put on, ‘Logical’ by Olivia Rodrigo, playing slowly as you watched the leaves creating patterns from sunlight casting through the windows and on the ground.

You could see slightly past a line of trees, all the people at the beach, the sun shining down. All of them are smiling, and all you can do is trace your finger along the window's glass back and forth, trying to keep yourself from thinking nothing stopped the tidal waves of things hitting you from all sides.

You thought about everything with Rafe and how everything around him felt genuine and solid. You could tell Rafe was dangerous when you met him but not aggressive, and these thoughts scare you. There are so many complex parts of him, but to see him letting out his rage on someone who you know didn’t deserve it any sense not like that.

Then you think about your night together, how he touched and held you all night. He was so gentle; this wasn’t your Rafe, not the one you know at least, and you don’t understand why things with you are different.

As the chorus plays, you sing along, head resting now on the window, looking forward just staring off, ‘If rain don’t pour, and sun don’t shine, then changing you is possible. No, love is never logical.’

Your dad's eyes had been flicking from the road to you when he finally spoke up, watching you wince, making him break. “Honey, you know you can talk to Dad, right? Does this have to do with that Rafe boy?” you wince again. He gives you a sad look, pulling to a parking lot that looks out at the beach, leaving the car on but turning to grab your hands, making you look at him.

The second you make contact with your dad's soft brown eyes, your entire heart drops, and you sob, falling into your dad's arms. “I’m so stupid, Dad. I don’t know why I keep making these choices.” He holds you in his arms, running his hand down the back of your head.

“Honey, does this have anything to do with me seeing Rafe and Topper pretty disheveled leaving the sandbar walkway?” you shake your head, looking up at him. “It’s so much more. I am so confused.” he puts his hand on your cheek, brushing tears away. “My sweet, beautiful girl, if he knows how much you are worth like I do, which I think he does, he’ll show you it.” you shake your head. “That’s just it, Dad; he does; he’s perfect with me; it's not exactly that, but there is a whole other side he hides from me. I don’t know,” you finish looking down, shaking your head.

Your dad chuckles, which makes your head whip up “(F/N); sometimes people are afraid if you see a certain part of them, it will make you run; maybe he just doesn’t want what the people of this island say about him to shape who he truly is; he’s just a boy who’s learning let him come to you sweetheart he will I’m sure and whatever he’s done, be calm, don’t lie, tell him what you know and ask him; let him explain see his reason sometimes you don’t always fully know what’s happening within someone or around them” your dad wipes the rest of your tears and turning back to drive you home.

———————————————————————-

When you get home, you lay in bed with Rafe's note lying next to you on your bed right next to the ring Luca had given you; stare at both and think, what would Luca say and think? Would he hate you for your choices? You think about Jason, who’s always given you the best advice, feeling he’s so far; now this isn’t something you can get help with over the phone; you think about Pope and if he’s okay, hoping he is.

You think of Rafe.

————————————————————————

Across the island, in his room, he is getting ready to meet you at Marina and take you out. Finally, he wants to sit down and talk and know more about you; he puts on one of his nice button-downs and jeans and grabs his phone while running a hand through his hair, setting his phone on the counter as he clicks the call button.

My Angel ❤️

As the phone rings, Rafe brushes his teeth; it keeps ringing as he washes his mouth out until, finally, the call goes to voice mail. Rafe sets down his toothbrush and shoots you a text

Rafe🪸: Hey Angel girl, I’m about ready; when do you want to meet?

Rafe waited for nearly an hour before he got a response back from you that had him stirring with anxiety

My Angel ❤️: Not feeling well. Raincheck?

You’d never sent him such a short response; this immediately had him Facetiming you; this time, you answered, and you were in your bed; he smiled when he saw your face.

That all changed when he saw; it looked like you’d been crying, making him say, “Hey, sweet girl, what’s happening? Are you okay?” you stare at him, almost looking shocked that he asked, then you shake your head like you’re snapping yourself out something making Rafe frown and tilt his head. After you just stared at him, he quietly said, “Baby girl.”

This made you snap out of the wait, and finally, you said, “I’ve just been getting sick today. My stomach is killing me, and I think I should stay home.” Rafe looks at you worried, and you shake your head, starting to say, “I’ll be fin—“

Before you can finish, he says, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes; hang tight.” you were trying to say, “Rafe, no, wait—, “ but he was already off the phone, and you went to text him that he didn’t need to come that you just needed to rest and sleep only to see a message.

Rafe 🪸: Don’t even try to say no, Angel. I said I’d be there, so I will see you in 20 minutes, stopping by the store. See you soon

📍location shared

You stared at your phone for so long, knowing what you saw happen to Pope was uncalled for and unnecessary, but the feeling you have for him is something you can’t help; he already fills many voids you think have been gaping in you for so long.

You are lying on your bed holding the note from this morning to your chest, phone in the other hand, staring at the bit of the horizon; you can see bits of orange cast glow over the houses and grass. You don’t even notice until after you've sent it.

My Angel❤️: Okay, thanks, Reef; see you soon 🪸❤️

You hope you’re not setting yourself up for something you know will end in tragedy. Then you think of what Dad told you, ask him, be calm, let him explain. As you lay in your bed, that’s what you'll wait to do.

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

[pjisskullourful]

𝑴𝒚 𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚

🗝️Måneskin × reader

NSFW🔥 absolutely filthy, 5 horny bastards in a bed

° Thomas Raggi/Ethan Torchio/Victoria De Angelis/Damiano David/female reader insert

° long-distance relationships are hard, but your partners are back in town & whisking you away for a secluded reunion [based october 2022]

wordcount:: 10,583

° commissioned by my sister beth(@bethanysnow)💋 merry christmas queeeeeeeeen [commissions get priority-there are 3 fics in cue, secure your own spot right here]

° lyrics stolen from björk

° [ITA:] amore: love - cazzo: fuck - caffè: coffee

It was a long overdue reunion. You should have been bursting with excitement - that was how it typically went when you got to see your partners after any length of time apart.

But you weren’t feeling very good, just as it had been for the majority of the time that they had been out of the country. While the four of them were busy with touring and working in recording studios, you had been facing down one essay after another. College had been feeling like a hard slog, neverending assignments with very intimidating minimum word counts. Your job ate into most of your downtime, keeping you from getting to plan anything fun.

Your life was seemingly only about your responsibilities and commitments. You were always either in the middle of some important task, or hyping yourself up to start a new one. There was no time for self-care or other things that could help bring the stress down.

With every day passing in a busy blur, it was easy for rotten moods to rise up. The kind of bad mood that couldn’t be alleviated by a Facetime call with any of your partners when they had a spare minute in their schedules. You were left feeling far from your best, a lingering dark cloud that affected so much of your current experience.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy to be in the same city as Victoria, Ethan, Thomas and Damiano again, but it had potentially been too long. The distance had been felt even more this time around, making you feel separated by more than just miles, you were so out of sync with them. It had been too long of you stewing in negativity, no backup to help you cut through all the bullshit in your own head.

You felt a sense of pressure at having to be in a great mood for them, even though you knew there was no magical switch for improvement inside of yourself. You had to make the most of your time with them, it was only going to be a brief visit, feeling down wasn’t going to help you enjoy every second.

You had been pleased when a call with Damiano had given you the insight that their plan was just for a private couple of days in a nice hotel. You didn’t have to stress about finding the perfect thing to wear to a restaurant in case your partners were recognised, opening you up to the criticisms of strangers as had happened in the past. It would just be the five of you and that felt like the ideal fit to you right now.

Ethan drove to your apartment to pick you up. Because you weren’t allowed to drive yourself, or even organise an Uber. All four of them loved surprising you, from small gestures to larger experiences. And so it had been decided that your destination would be kept a secret. You were to just get in the car and trust Ethan.

And you did trust him, you had always trusted him. That was how your relationship had evolved from just the two of you, to include his three friends with benefits. You didn’t imagine it working as well with anyone else - certainly none of the relationships that had preceded him. The trust that had naturally developed between the two of you had made you comfortable enough to admit you felt more than a sexual attraction to the other members of Måneskin. For the past six months you had all been exploring your connections and the incredible potential of this unconventional setup. Ethan trusted your honesty and you trusted he would tell you if he stopped enjoying it, wanting to be an exclusive pair, as you had been in the beginning.

After a while, you stopped trying to guess at where he was whisking you off to - you just let the familiar sights of Rome fall behind you. You got especially distracted from the road when he asked you how work had been. It felt like a wave, far more powerful than you had expected, so many words coming out. You didn’t have to pause and consider your sentences, seemingly they had been ready to be shared.

The concerned furrow in his brow had grown more pronounced the longer that you talked. When he spoke, it was a very sober tone. “I had no idea it was this bad.”

“It sounds way worse when I say it all at once like that. But in reality, it’s just a lot of little things.” You said, instantly regretting the worry you had prompted in him - this wasn’t how your time together was supposed to go.

“But they add up- all those little things.” He said.

You paused, taking note of the subtle changes in his expression, you knew how to read him. You began smiling. “Did you just quote One Direction at me?”

His cheeks gave a slight twitch, he was amused with himself. “I sure did.”

You began laughing, as you did so you felt yourself releasing some of the tension that had been built up. It was like you were unclenching your fists for the first time. He laughed too, it was a sight that you savoured, he was cute enough that you could forget about your issues.

But he didn’t. And he was back to pensive very quickly - it was a switch Victoria would label as ‘typical Ethan’, she had seen it so many times that it no longer surprised her.

“I wish you had told me sooner.” He said, all the way back to serious.

“It’s not like I was purposefully trying to keep it secret from you, amore.” You said, reaching your hand out to rest on his thigh as you studied the side of his face. “But when you call, I don’t want to spend the whole time just complaining, that’s not very fun for you. And I know you’ve got great things you wanna tell me about and I want to hear about your adventures.

“It’s not fair of me to unload so much garbage on you when you’re too far away to give me tangible help. You’re my solutions guy, I know how you take stuff on like it’s all your responsibility and you beat yourself up when you can’t fix everything for everyone. I don’t want you to do that here.

“It’s just a little rough patch at work, it will be over and seemingly insignificant soon.” You said, trying to convince him as much as yourself.

“I want you to tell me all your stuff.” His tone made it an earnest request, nothing like the commands he could make your heart race with.

“You’re right, and I would feel the same if the roles were reversed.” You said.

But you didn’t add anymore venting - you didn’t want to launch into a tangent about the way college was a consistent time and energy thief. He wanted to be kept in the loop about what was going on in your life, but how much could he truly listen to? Realistically, everyone had a limit and when would he get sick of hearing it? You didn’t want to find out, so you went quiet and let Björk’s singing fill this uneasy silence.

‘Calm, calm down, you’re exhausted- come lie down…’ The serene music floated through the cab of the car, offering some comfort.

He brought the car to a stop at the next red light, taking one of his hands off the wheel. He picked up your hand from resting on his leg, looking at you with those eyes that seemed to see more than anyone else. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it and you gave his fingers a squeeze.

‘You know that I adore you, you know that I love you…’

You didn’t recognise anything beyond the windows. You were completely out of the city, seeing more trees and less tall buildings.

He drove along a quaint main road, pulling into the parking lot next to a modest hotel. Not recognising the name on the sign, you assumed this was an independent hotel. It was nothing like those hotels that the touring company could afford to put the four of them in. It wasn’t a skyscraper that bore the logo of any franchise. It was low-key, another invitation for you to stop stressing.

He took your hand in his as you walked for the lobby entrance. “Everyone can’t wait to see you.”

You couldn’t think of anything to say, you just hoped that you wouldn’t let them down.

Victoria didn’t wait until you were across the threshold of the suite to grab you. Her greeting was as enthusiastic as what you had come to expect from her. If you were a lighter woman, her full-force collision into you could have knocked you off your feet. But your centre of gravity wasn’t disrupted and you just wrapped your arms around your chipper girlfriend.

You saw the delight lighting up her eyes for only a second. Then she was too close, claiming your lips with a kiss. The scent of her perfume filled your nostrils and she cupped your face in her hands, taking full advantage of this reclaimed proximity.

That sense of pressure and worry went away, because you knew how to kiss her. You let your lips part, deepening the kiss as you concentrated on this moment.

“Alright, let’s actually get her in the room before you get too carried away in the hall, you fuckin’ freak.” Thomas said and you felt extra hands on you, gently guiding you forward.

She sucked on your lower lip before letting the kiss end. “What, did you really expect me to wait? I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

“What makes you think you’re the only one?” Thomas asked and his hand slid into yours as you walked further into the room. He turned to stand in front of you, his eyes taking in the features of your face. “Hi, amore…”

“Hey.” You said, easing in to meet him in the middle.

He kissed you softly, then paused so he could look at you. Another kiss came, lingering a little longer, allowing you to feel the moisture on his mouth. Then a silent break passed and you felt so disarmed by those hazel eyes. He took his time to recommit your face to memory in between his unhurried kisses, not wanting to miss a single detail, like always. You blushed under his thorough gaze and the look on his face made you want to kiss him more.

“Okay, let’s all line up for our turn to kiss her.” Damiano joked.

Thomas took the hint, wrapping up one last tender kiss before beginning to move aside. You licked your lips and kept your fingers curled around his for a moment longer as Damiano stepped into the available space in front of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you in closer. His hand went beneath your chin, easing your head back so you would look at him. “I missed you, sweetheart.”

You didn’t have time to respond, his lips crashed against yours so fast. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him back, feeling the beginnings of that intensity he could tap into at the drop of a hat. His tongue teased against the seam of your lips.

Then he moved his focus to just your bottom lip, kissing you here - a spot that would certainly see some swelling before this visit was through. His lips moved lower, giving you a chance to somewhat catch your breath as he kissed across your chin.

“Missed you too.” You said as his trail of kisses led him onto your neck. “I missed all of you.”

“I missed all of you.” He said with his own emphasis. He paused, pretending as if he had only just realised his error. “Oh, you meant the four of us. Well, I meant that I missed every bit of my beautiful girlfriend.” His compliments had more impact when he was directly in front of you. “I missed the feel of these arms. And your hands.” He linked his fingers with yours before applying a quick kiss to your lips. “It should be obvious beyond words that I missed these lips.

“But do you know where I really missed?” He asked, his arms still very tight around you. He extended his index finger, touching it to the side of your throat. Your smile grew as he stroked his fingertip up-and-down. “This spot right here.” He furthered his point by kissing you here, an enthusiastic appreciation that soon had you giggling, sensitivities rising up after being partially-forgotten in their absence. “Yep, here.

“I’m gonna-” His words were stalled as he prioritised kissing your neck. “-live right-” His lips moved all over his small area of focus. “-here. So that I can always be kissing you and hearing that gorgeous giggling.”

You felt yourself melting into his embrace as his mouth continued getting reacquainted with your neck. How many days had you dressed yourself in turtleneck sweaters in his absence? When in video calls, you were always careful of how you held your phone - vigilant to keep your neck from looking any wider than it already was. But he had all the time and dedication to enjoy all of it, bringing giddiness from a source of insecurities.

“If you’re gonna live there, I will have to charge you rent, sweetie.” You said.

He barely broke contact with your skin to respond. “Don’t care, it’s worth it.”

Victoria had approached where the two of you stood, arms wrapped around one another. The way she looked you up-and-down didn’t bring self-consciousness as it typically did with others, because you could see the hungry look in her eyes. She wasn’t about to disrupt the wonderful safety you felt in this relationship.

He continued to lavish kisses upon the side of your throat, not noticing how close she was, starting to play with your hair. You licked your lips as you looked at her, your heart racing just as the thought of what she might do next. The potential was enough to have you feeling a greater heat in your cheeks, and in your cunt.

“Have I complimented your outfit yet? ‘Cause you look stunning. I love you in leopard print.” She said - you had picked the linen overcoat for her, putting more thought into this ensemble in the hopes of bringing confidence with it. “But you’ve gotta know- our smart girl, you probably knew all along that you won’t be keeping it on for very long.

“Is that okay?” She asked.

“Totally.” You responded without hesitation.

She smiled as she moved in to secure more kisses from you, with Damiano still concentrating on the side of your throat. You removed your arms from around him when you felt her pushing the fabric off of your shoulders.

The intentions of your partners were clear and you realised that any talking, catching up with one another, would happen later. And this was okay with you.

You pulled your arms out of the coat. Her lips left yours so that she could see what she was doing. You could see Thomas getting a drink from the mini-fridge while Ethan watched the three of you, casually leaning against an armchair.

She pushed Damiano a little out of the way. But his kissing went on as her hands went to the front of your black top, pulling the material out of where you had tucked it into your high-waisted jeans. She started to take the shirt off of you, prompting him to move back slightly and you lifted your arms above your head.

You felt something like a present being unwrapped when his fingers went to the fly of your jeans. Her hands moved to your newly-exposed bra and you were feeling the warmth of her touch through the lacy fabric. You began to kiss her, putting one hand to the back of her head because you were craving so much more than a peck. Your other hand moved under her top, feeling her smooth skin as he worked the pants down.

“Again?” Ethan asked. “Did you forget that you would need her shoes off to remove her pants, again? I swear, you clowns make that same mistake every time.”

“How do you guys expect to get anywhere in life if you don’t learn from your mistakes?” Thomas teased.

Ethan secured your attention by saying your name, then he gestured to the sapphire-coloured chair. “Why don’t you come and sit down, baby? We can eliminate the risk of you tripping entirely.”

Victoria and Damiano released you. You walked in Ethan’s direction as he stood beside the tall-backed chair.

“So, who’s gonna tell her?” Thomas asked.

You pushed your jeans down off of your ass, making them easier for your partners to remove, before sitting on the chair. “Tell me what?”

“That chair is from the lobby.” Victoria said. “We noticed how regal it looked. And, well, you deserve a throne to sit on.”

“Wait, what are you saying? Did you steal this chair?” You asked, looking at where Damiano had begun to loosen the laces of your boots. “Because that’s a very sweet gesture, but I’m not worth getting into trouble like-...”

“No, no, we didn’t commit any crimes. We just used our charms.” He said.

“And cash.” Ethan said. “Probably one of the most generous tips they’ve ever gotten. So they brought it up for us and everything.”

“And we took a couple of photos with the staff. We played the celebrity card to get what we wanted.” She said. “We’ve truly changed.”

You were amazed, looking at each of them in awed silence. This was their vacation, the relaxing time away from the spotlight. You knew how tiring they all found it to be constantly curating the perfect public persona, Damiano had phrased it to you that he wished fame came with a switch off option. But they had sacrificed a bit of their anonymity just so you could have the best chair to sit in? It filled your heart, and warmth blossomed into your belly.

You lifted your ass from the cushioned seat, allowing Damiano to pull your underwear off of your body. You could see that Thomas had an arm around Victoria’s shoulders, both of them looking you all over and probably planning wicked things. Ethan was the closest to you, so you grabbed him for a kiss, which quickly developed into a series of passionate kisses.

As you were caressing his cheeks, his hands moved around to your back. He made quick work of unclasping your bra, drawing the lingerie away from your chest and discarding it. Your entire body exposed, you felt your skin responding to the touch of the air, and electric anticipation filled the suite.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, angling your body a little more towards him. As you were plunging your tongue into his mouth, you felt Victoria coming at you from the other side, going for your neck. This sensitive area was just as reactive to her mouth, tingles sweeping through your body with slightly more power than what Damiano had prompted because everything was feeling more serious now, the intensity inescapable, and only growing.

The serial-hickey-creator of the group, you were unsurprised when you felt her sucking on your skin. She was always the first one to bite. The others teased her, and sometimes complained about it. But you were flattered that she cared enough to leave such marks on you. You loved carrying a mark of her lust on your body.

Her mouth moved across your skin, finding different spots to secure her lips around as her hand discovered your bare chest. She held your breast in her hand, her fingers stroking the soft skin. Your erect nipple awaited her attention, firmly pressed against the palm of her hand. But she made you wait for that teasing, at the moment your focus went to the way her teeth grazed against your neck, brief but so tantalising.

Ethan was concentrating on your neck too, holding a hand at the nape of your neck. As you worked your tongue against the roof of his mouth, he reciprocated with his fingertips tenderly massaging your skin. It gave you the feeling of being on the verge of melting, your whole body heating up.

Your thighs were already parted before Thomas put his hands to them, but you pushed them further apart for him. He kneeled down on the floor before your chair, seeking to fill this space and you couldn’t help squirming a little in your anticipation.

He didn’t immediately dive for your pussy, finding other parts of your body to appreciate. You felt his first kiss on your belly, his lips tenderly caressing the area just below your navel. At the same time, she applied her fingers to your nipple and transferred her mouth to your earlobe. You moaned lightly into Ethan’s mouth, enjoying this group effort to get you worked up.

As she lazily played with your nipple, Thomas’ hands gradually moved lower. He massaged down, his fingers moving across the part of your body you always strived to hide. Slowly he kissed a trail down, his lips savouring what his hands had been appreciating. His attention was so dedicated, every movement so luxurious.

When she lightly nibbled on your earlobe, you parted from Ethan’s lips with a whimper. Your pussy was throbbing, and when your eyes met his, you felt certain that he knew this without saying. His eyes stared into yours and all of your neediness was on display for him.

“Are you ready to find out just how much we all missed you? ‘Cause we’ve got plans for you, our special girl.” She said directly into your ear. “That time apart- well, that was just ample opportunity for fantasising.” Your hand gripped to Ethan’s as the way she squeezed your nipple affected you more-and-more. “And there’s no distractions, there’s nothing more important than you being worshipped.”

You let out a surprised whine when she suddenly nipped at your ear. This was instantly followed by Thomas’ hand going lower, his fingers pressing into the squishy skin of your pubic mound. He applied more pressure, his touch sinking beneath the surface and your cravings grew more insistent, more noticeable tingles filling your pussy.

She returned her lips to your throat, with as much vigour as before. Your eyes moved to him, finding his eyes open and on you as he continued to drag his lips across your round belly. From your body, he was drawing more inspiration, pressing harder with the slow circles on your mound.

Your breath got stuck in your throat when his thorough fingers explored lower, taking his tender touch onto your labia. You didn’t have the words to match your desires as you stared into his light eyes, frozen on this peak he had eased you up to.

His lips caught up to his hands - he eased your folds back and, in the same second, kissed your already moist clit. Watching for your reactions, he continued to explore your clit. Sweet but firm kisses were applied to the hood and your eyes started to flutter shut as you leaned into her for some more support.

Ethan’s hand slipped out of yours as he left your side. He walked around, standing behind where Thomas was positioned, gaining a greater view. Your pleasure was being showcased for the entire room to enjoy.

She readjusted, placing her mouth to yours again. You let her take the lead as you kissed her back. The way he started to work his tongue up-and-down soon had you moaning into her mouth.

As you started to reach your hand out for his hair, he pulled away. Before you could raise any complaints, he was swiftly replaced by Ethan.

He used a different tactic, starting with your entrance. The tip of his tongue moved in a swirl, gathering the moisture that had accumulated during this wonderful teasing. Her tongue slid into your mouth, inviting you deeper into this sensual rhythm. They worked their tongues slowly, with a great amount of control as they continued to enjoy building you up. You had the time to enjoy and marvel in every sensation as it arose.

He dove his tongue into you, tasting your excitement directly from the source. At the same time, she was dragging her tongue out of your mouth, so that she could recalibrate, bringing her attention to just your lower lip. Her kisses quickly developed into sucking as you were enjoying how he wiggled his tongue between your pussy walls. The moans that this brought from you were hardly muffled, but you were too close to ecstasy to feel any kind of shame over your reactions.

Her teeth grazed your lip a couple of times before she pulled back, making a noise similar to a purr. “Fuck, it’s my turn. I’ve gotta find out if you taste as good as you sound.”

“She does.” You heard Thomas comment.

Ethan wasn’t greedy, moving aside to let her get at your pussy. But he remained close, his hand massaging your thigh as he maintained his view from the front row. Thomas was slightly further back, sitting on the ground to the side of you. He watched the unfolding events with his mouth hanging open a bit.

She got in close to your cunt, pressing one hand to the top of your thigh to ensure you kept it where she wanted it. Despite what she had said, she didn’t instantly go in with her mouth. At first you were just feeling two of her fingers, running up-and-down your swollen labia minora. She slowly stroked you here as she moved her lips to your thigh, kissing and beginning the work of creating a hickey. 

You ran your fingers lovingly through her hair, your other hand grasping the armrest as you tried to prepare for what was to come next. You let your eyes wander and when you looked Ethan over, you noticed how pronounced the bulge at the front of his pants had become. Looking at Thomas next, you could see that his cock was also clearly seeking freedom from his jeans. What did they plan to do to you with those dicks?

As she kept sucking and lightly nibbling your wide thigh, you looked in Damiano’s direction. He was the furthest from you, but that wasn’t due to any disinterest, with him watching as carefully as the others. Sitting on the edge of one of the beds, his hand was positioned at his dick. Over the material of his pants, he was intermittently giving his cock some tame squeezes.

When he noticed you watching, he just smiled and kept going. “Don’t mind me sweetheart, I’m just being a pervert back here.”

She broke contact with your leg so that she could respond. “What else is new?”

You laughed at this, but the sound was quickly mangled when she attached her mouth to your clitoris. You gave an incoherent stutter as she applied zealous kisses to the hood. She set her lips into place, perfectly cradling the tight bundle of nerves. Her fingers were still working your labia up-and-down, getting coated with wetness as you spent every second being dazzled by spectacular tingles.

She sucked your clitoris between her lips, to where she could get at it with her tongue. This left you reeling, so much of your body tensing as you moaned louder than before. You tightly wrapped your fingers around Ethan’s as your writhing grew more intense because your control was greatly weakening. Your cunt was aching, so sensitive despite not receiving the touches it craved. It was thrilling to just anticipate, knowing that you were gradually getting closer to the destruction you wanted.

“Come on amore, it must be your turn to take this Holy Communion.” Thomas said to Damiano.

This set you off laughing, it was potentially the most blasphemous thing you had ever heard. But it fit. The way they were all taking turns to consume at this special seat, which could certainly fill the role of an altar - it wasn’t unlike the Eucharist. You weren’t the only one to laugh.

As you pondered this, it made the set up feel even more dirty - in the most wonderful way possible. You were worthy of a truly depraved scene. The blush marking your cheeks grew darker and you began to place your hands over your face.

“No, no, no.” Thomas gently said as he got to his feet and started to approach. “Don’t you dare cover your face.” You could feel the heat from your face before your hands were actually touching the skin. He stood beside the seat and you looked up at him. “You can’t deprive me of seeing you when you’re like this, ‘cause you are so sexy when you’re overwhelmed and needy.”

“‘m so needy.” You said, your composure being thoroughly disrupted by her treatment of your clit.

He leaned in closer and you could smell your arousal on his breath as he caressed his fingers over your forehead. “I know, but we’re gonna take care of you, we’re gonna take care of every need you’ve got.”

You nodded, showing your consent, but also your understanding that this was a guarantee. He wasn’t just saying this to be sexy and contribute to the dirty talk, you knew that he meant it.

He moved his hand to your cheek and you tilted your head back so that your mouths could meet. You didn’t let her moving away from your cunt distract you, you were too caught up in his kisses. He stroked the side of your throat and you put an arm around his shoulders, remaining so turned on as you gave this intimacy the spotlight.

You felt some movement between your legs, but you weren’t even slightly ready for Damiano and all of the fire he instantly brought with him. He pushed his hands in under your legs so that he could grab a handful each of your generous butt straight away. Then he was using this to change the angle of your hips, getting you to lift your cunt.

His tongue sought out what Victoria had so thoroughly warmed up, powering between your walls. You gasped, your lips momentarily leaving Thomas’ as you couldn’t control the way your hips thrusted up. Your inner-walls clenched on Damiano’s tongue as you arched your back.

Thomas’ eyes swept all over your face, savouring every response, and they were only getting bigger. He kissed you slowly, giving you the opportunity to catch your breath. But you never took it, remaining in this elevated, unpredictable state.

Your eyes shut and you let your head rest against the chair as you began to get lost in all of this. As Damiano tirelessly wiggled his tongue all around inside of you, Thomas continued to treat you with sweet kisses. You pushed one of your hands in under his shirt, your fingers experiencing his warm skin as this feast for your senses raged on.

It took a moment for you to notice that Damiano had withdrawn, the pumping of blood through your sensitive pussy keeping you feeling stimulated in the absence of a touch.

But you weren’t left waiting long (not granted the time to calm yourself down and away from that edge). Ethan took up another turn at devouring your pussy. The tender explorations of his tongue created a stark contrast to Damiano’s zealous efforts. You returned your butt to the seat as more strength left your body.

Gradually, you identified a third noise source in the room, existing beyond what you could feel. Damiano and Victoria were kissing, exchanging words that you couldn’t quite hear. You didn’t try to eavesdrop, letting your attention stay on Thomas’ lips and Ethan’s tongue.

Soon enough, they were bringing their conversation to you. Damiano stroked your arm and said your name, a quiet request. “Sorry to interrupt…”

You drew back from Thomas, finding Damiano and Victoria standing at your other side. While you hadn’t been looking, he had taken off his shirt and, similarly, she was no longer wearing her pants.

“He’s dying to tell you about something we saw on OnlyFans.” She said, smirking.

“Me? It was your idea to come over here and tell her right this second.” He said.

“You guys and your designated OnlyFans time, is there really no other way for you to bond?” Thomas asked.

“Sure there is, it’s called me handing his ass to him in Smash Brothers, like, every day.” She said over the occasional noises of Ethan’s slurping, trying to keep all of the moisture in his mouth.

“Anyway, we saw this thing that I’ve never seen before, I don’t even know if there’s an official term for it. But as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to try it the next time I got the two of you together again.” Damiano said, indicating to you and her. You nodded, hoping that he didn’t expect any of your usual wit - your word choices currently limited as Ethan did nothing to help you focus. “I lay on my back and, facing each other, you both sit on my face.

“So you two can be making out and playing with each other while I’m eating up- back-and-forth, just multitasking like my whole life depends on it.” He said. “But only if you’re into it. Do you think you would wanna try that with us, sweetheart?”

Ethan pulled back from your cunt and you let out a shaky sigh as he answered first. “That sounds really hot, you should do it, baby.”

“Yeah. Not to add to any kind of peer pressure- but I would love to watch something like that.” Thomas said.

“But there’s plenty of other things we can do if you don’t feel like trying that.” Ethan said, with the other three immediately voicing their agreement.

You smiled, looking up at Victoria and Damiano. “It does sound hot, let’s see if we can pull it off.”

Everyone moved over to one of the king beds. You were keeping your wariness to yourself. You wanted to trust the process and go along with your most adventurous partners. But this wasn’t the first time you had worried about the unrealistic ideas that OnlyFans could spread - there wasn’t a lot of media that you truly trusted.

As he placed his head on a pillow, you and she determined your positions. It was decided that you would be closest to the headboard, facing out to the rest of the room, while her back would be to the others. She started to take the last of her clothes off and Ethan got to work getting Damiano out of his jeans.

Thomas offered you his hands, seeking to help you maintain your balance as you considered the best way to get into position. You watched your movements, determined to not knee Damiano’s face in the process. You placed one knee on either side of his head, your pussy hovering a few inches above his nose.

As Thomas moved away (giving you a parting kiss first), your naked girlfriend joined you. You grinned, reaching a hand out for her as you admired her perfect body. She placed herself close to you, her cunt ready to meet Damiano’s mouth as she put her knees in line with yours.

She cradled your round face in her hands, guiding you to look up and meet her gaze. She was wearing an excited smile and you were pleased to be part of bringing a fantasy into reality.

The fact that you should feature in any level of fantasy for the four of them was still hard for you to believe, even after months of assurances. If you thought about it for too long it might just blow your mind.

You tilted your head as she leaned in closer, lips coming together in a flawless moment. The longer that you kissed her, the more of her new taste that you experienced. A snapshot of this encounter, this taste was unique and curated just for you. You were happy to indulge and you wrapped some of her golden hair around your fingers.

The tempo that the two of you had been moving into was interrupted when the first swipe of Damiano’s tongue drew a surprised sputter from you. Without any warning, he had begun - the tip of his tongue at your entrance, before pushing down. As he went in the direction of your clitoral hood, he pressed the flat of his tongue to your cunt, seeking to stimulate more than just one spot.

You were breathless when she drew your attention back to kissing. He had begun to use his talented tongue in circles all around your swollen clit. As you kissed her back, you couldn’t help wiggling your hips a little, adding to the wonderful treatment you were receiving from his tongue.

When his tongue bumped against the face of your clitoral hood, it sent thrilling shockwaves through the core of your being. Your hands went to her arms, holding on for support as the pleasure shot up again. He grabbed your ass and the way that he squeezed made you feel so desired as you started to rock with a little more consistency.

He flicked his tongue against your clitoris before relocating and getting to work on her. A whimper accompanied her tongue sliding in between your lips. She put her hand to the back of your head, keeping you here so that she could explore more of this closeness. You wrapped your arms around her, feeling each skipped breath and twitch of her body.

The two of you had never shared cunnilingus in this style before. There had been successful experiments with various positions. But there was something about this setup that allowed you to feel so very connected to your girlfriend and you loved it. You were glad to have given it a chance.

From beneath you, you heard him take in a gasp of air. Then you were feeling his mouth, covering your clit in quick kisses. He parted his lips so that he could get at you with his tongue again. He was done teasing around your clitoris, now he let you feel his tongue on the tight bundle of nerves straight away. He played his tongue up-and-down on it, stroking your sensitivities to the next level.

As he settled into a thorough tempo, you tightened your arms around her. Neediness rose up as your dominant emotion as their tongues each appreciated you in their own way. You tapped into his momentum, moving your hips in time to ride his tongue. It was all feeling so promising, you started getting invested in the prospect of getting off like this - it seemed to be within your grasp.

But before you could get too carried away with it, he broke away so that he could gasp. “Cazzo, keep your mouth just like that please, baby.”

Too curious to help yourselves, you and she drew apart. You found that his words had been directed to Ethan, who had made room for himself between Damiano’s legs. While the other man was occupied, Ethan had started sucking his dick.

“Good boy.” She praised before turning back to you.

“How long has he been waiting to do that?” Thomas asked, he was taking in the whole scene from his spot lying beside Damiano.

Damiano’s hand was gripping your ass even tighter, surely he would leave indents. You could clearly feel each of his fingers, impossible to forget or not notice, even when he sought to return attention to your clit. Despite how shaky his breathing had become, the way that he licked your clitoris didn’t suffer from inconsistency.

He lapped his tongue up-and-down, inviting you deeper into the desires. She resumed kissing you and you got to feel like the centre of the universe again.

Even when he took his mouth away, your nerves continued to dance. You heard him rapidly moving his tongue on her cunt as you enjoyed the quivers in your aftermath. You placed your hands to her tits, enjoying what you had only been able to look at for so many months. Your fingers caressed the supple skin while your thumbs toyed with her very firm nipples. This earned you a suck on your bottom lip from her. Hearing her ragged breaths, you were pleased to get to play a part in her arousal.

“This position straight-up rocks.” Thomas admired.

You pulled back from her kisses to respond. “There isn’t much straight about it right now.”

“True.” He said as she giggled. “There must be a name for it. But if I wanted to Google it- I would have to look away. And that’s just not something I’m willing to do.”

“Imagine it from my perspective, sweetie.” Damiano said, and a second later you were feeling his mouth.

“Oh, I am.” Thomas said.

“We’ve just been calling it tandem, ‘cause like with a tandem bike, we’re riding the same thing at the same time.” She said and if you weren’t so preoccupied by the swirling of Damiano’s tongue, you would have laughed.

“That’s actually genius.” Thomas said.

“Yeah, I’ve got a way with words when it comes to fucking.” She said.

The way Damiano had secured his lips around your clit made your elbows continuously tremor through your efforts to grope her chest. As your eyes fluttered shut, you lost track of everything else, getting overwhelmed by the pleasure. All of these stimulations were going directly to your core, where your climax could be unlocked - it was even closer now.

He started to bob his head, moving into a pacing that had you feeling the impacts in different spots. The stimulation was shared through your entire clitoris, the receptors sending the excitement far and wide. Until it was feeling like every nerve in your body was responding to his sucking.

Moving your hips opened you up to even more intensity. Strangled noises accompanied your pumps as you harnessed the friction. You were in a high greater than anything you could capture on your own.

“Please.” You whimpered - you didn’t know if this would be loud enough to be heard over the other activity, but you felt incapable of getting your voice any louder. “Please don’t stop, please.”

Grinding on his mouth was set to make you complete. As your body was overtaken by powerful shivers, you felt yourself arriving at the threshold of how much you could take. More pleas fell from your lips, but you had no idea if they made sense.

It didn’t matter because you were ascending. You threw your head back and let the wave of pleasure overtake you.

There was a smile on your face as you climbed off of him, his fingers finally releasing from your butt. You were feeling a little dazed, letting Thomas guide you to a spot to sit on the bed. You were trying to regain your breath as you sat down next to him. He applied kisses to your cheek as he loosely wrapped his arms around you.

“You looked really amazing.” He said, nuzzling against your skin. “Like, I thought I was hard before you climbed up on his face…”

Aside from this mention, he wasn’t rushing you into the next thing. There was time allowed before you could start to think about feeding his desires. He just held you as you gradually came back down to reality. No one was going to show you any pushiness in this moment, you knew that for sure and it felt good.

As you steadily regained your bearings, you checked the progress of your partners. Both of Damiano’s hands were occupied - one on the back of Ethan’s head to keep him bobbing, the other on Victoria’s chest, showing her nipple rougher treatment than what she had received by your hand.

You leaned into Thomas more-and-more, savouring this embrace as more of your limbs overlapped with his. He held you firmer and slightly increased the frequency of the kisses he gave you. You didn’t meet every one of his kisses, but you didn’t need to, it was enough to simply feel grounded with him. You stroked his thigh as you both gave the majority of your attention to the other three.

You recognised the look on her face, from the deep furrow in her brow to the way she incessantly nibbled on her lower lip. It all told you that she was close, concentrating on getting her release. Another sign of this came from how quiet she was being, it was often joked about how the only way to shut her up was to make her come.

Most of the sounds were coming from Damiano, his little ecstatic cries muffled as he kept his tongue buried deep inside of her. Ethan worked his mouth up-and-down the other man’s shaft and occasionally took his mouth off of it altogether, allowing him to thoroughly lick Damiano all over. It was quite clear that he was in favour of everything Ethan was doing.

It would have been impossible to not feel turned on when you were this close to so much passion. The next time Thomas kissed you, you found yourself craving more than before, you wanted to experience more of those lips. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, turning to face him as you pursued less distance between your bodies, your hands exploring everything within reach.

“Babe…” You whispered against his lips. “Why are you still wearing so damn much?”

He allowed you to push the shirt up his chest. “I have no idea. But we can fix that.” He helped you get the item off before hurriedly swooping in for more kisses. “We can fix that right now.” As you shared kisses, he undid the fly of his jeans and began to work the pants down.

All too soon this took him out of your grasp as he stood up to remove them. But you admired from afar, your eyes greedily sweeping up-and-down his body, lingering at certain spots.

Meanwhile, he was nodding in the direction of Ethan. “You could ask him the same thing.”

“Hey, Ethan…” You said, crawling a little further down the bed to gain a clearer view of him. “What’s the deal- are you about to head out to a ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ kind of place?”

He drew his mouth away from Damiano and pushed his hair back so he could look at you. “Huh?”

Thomas cupped his hands to either side of his mouth as he directed his voice at Ethan. “Take your fucking clothes off.”

“Oh, right. Sorry Dami- to be continued…” He said, leaving his position between the other man’s legs.

You were distracted from watching Ethan undress by Thomas coming in for more kisses. You happily went along with this, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him closer than before. The combination of fast kisses and skin-on-skin had your thoughts jumping to new conclusions.

And it seemed that you weren’t the only one, with her voicing a desire for a new position. “-you to fuck me.”

“Okay, yeah, I mean, yeah for sure…” Damiano’s response was a little stilted.

“Okay?” She repeated. “I ask you to fuck me and you say okay?”

“Jesus, give me a second to catch my breath. Maybe my mouth is a little tired after eating two pussies at the same time.” He said. “Of course my answer is Hell yeah, and please, and thank you. Let me get a condom, baby.”

You pulled yourself away from Thomas, as the moment dictated. “Could you actually get three condoms?”

“I’m only gonna need one- you know how they work, right?” Damiano asked, pausing on his way over to the corner all of the luggage had been sent to.

Thomas secured your attention, kissing you on the cheek. “Have you got something planned?”

“Maybe.” You said. “I’ve gotta keep the two of you busy while they’re taking care of each other, don’t I?”

Ethan’s fingertips ghosted over your shoulders, making you smile. “Busy, how?”

“How about you lie down and I’ll show you what I mean- answer your questions that way, hm?” You offered.

He showed his approval by lying down immediately. Victoria was also lying down, flat on her back. They greeted each other with a ‘fancy seeing you here’, before sharing more tongue-in-cheek banter.

You asked Thomas to remain where he was standing for the moment, then you progressed to placing yourself on top of Ethan. You trapped him down to the mattress, straddling him at the waist.

Thomas followed your instruction, climbing atop Ethan’s legs to fill the space behind you. He didn’t hesitate to put his arms around your middle.

“Any further questions?” You asked of your boyfriends.

“Nope, you’ve answered everything for me.” Ethan said.

Damiano joined the rest of you on the mattress, handing out the condoms. She didn’t have any further complaints about his word choice as he climbed on top of her.

After applying his condom, Thomas began covering his shaft and your hole with lubricant. As he did this, you leaned down, kissing Ethan. His hands lovingly stroked up-and-down your sides, appreciating across every curve, like he always did.

Thomas’ capable fingers gently exploring and massaging between your cheeks was building the anticipation inside of you. So much so that you couldn’t simply hold still as you kissed Ethan. You readjusted (doing your best to not disturb Thomas’ important process) until you could line your cunt up with his hard dick. You didn’t take him in just yet. Working your hips, you rubbed your slit on the side of his cock. His hands stopped caressing you, now holding you with a set grip, encouraging you to continue without taking his lips off of yours.

This process of warming you up (the prelude to penetration) was dreamy, the lack of rush giving you time to notice all of your body’s reactions. Your inner-walls were ready to clench. Your asshole was getting more sensitive with each passover of Thomas’ fingers.

“Please…” Ethan moaned, grinding back against you as his own cravings evidently grew.

Maybe under different circumstances, you would have possessed the strength necessary to make him wait and put him through more teasing. But Ethan could make you needy like no one else. And seeing all of the effort they had gone through for you, you knew that he deserved to feel good (and then some).

You gave him a parting kiss (it was difficult to not linger) and began sitting up, shifting your body weight back in the process. Your back met Thomas’ chest as you got yourself into the right position on top of Ethan. His eyes were fixed on you, not distracted by Victoria and Damiano directly beside him, as he admired each of your movements.

Tensing your thighs, you got yourself to the spot where his head could start spreading you open. His fingers clamped down on your ample hips and you saw his nostrils flare as his sensitive head gradually moved deeper into you.

As you were easing yourself down, Thomas moved in closer, beginning to kiss you on the cheek. More of his body was lining up with yours - the perfect embrace almost complete.

“Are you ready for me, love?” He asked.

You grinned, positively buzzing in your eagerness. “Absolutely.”

His slicked dick travelled toward your prepped hole, carefully sinking into you. Your breath momentarily halted, the beginning of being filled already felt so good. You let your eyes shut, taking in all of the sensations as you knew you were safe to surrender your body to them.

Beside you, you could hear the consistent collisions of her body with Damiano’s. They had found the ideal momentum to serve their desires, getting caught up in one another with all of the excitement as if it were the very first time.

Thomas didn’t try to replicate what they were doing. When he started to move, it was in a way that hinted at more to come - but that wasn’t where the three of you were up to just yet.

He held you to him with one arm around your middle while his other hand gripped the top of your thigh - it wasn’t just his dick in your asshole that was making you feel claimed in the most wonderful way possible. Ethan’s hands were on you too, holding onto you like his life depended on it. One of his hands fondled your chest, beneath your breast, where the rib cage would be visible on a thinner woman, like Victoria. His other hand held lower, on your hip, where stretch marks (both old and new) decorated the skin.

It made your heart flutter, the way they sought out the parts of you that you tirelessly worked to keep hidden on a daily basis.

Before they were going to set about ruining it, they celebrated your body. It was the appreciation you had never learnt how to show yourself.

Thomas moved his hips into you, getting you to slide down a little further on Ethan’s shaft. His body responded with a gentle rock, sending you back towards Thomas. Trapped between them, you went with the tempo he was establishing, feeling the tension rising in the process.

You reached behind you, stroking one of your hands up and into his hair. You opened your eyes, discovering that he was close as he watched your reactions. You kissed him, your fingers twisting around his blonde hair as he kissed you back. You felt more power coming into his pumps and your heart started racing accordingly.

Your body stretched to accommodate both of their cocks, your clitoris quivering as you continued to feel the after-effects of earlier treatment. You were going back up, electricity running through more of your body with each determined swing of your hips. Through the mounting pressure, you slipped into a consistent tempo. You didn’t know how long you would be able to maintain it, but for the moment you gave it your all.

On the next pump forward, your pussy claimed the last inches of Ethan’s cock. This was a sharp increase in intensity that you had been pitifully unprepared for. You broke away from Thomas with a whine and you heard Ethan panting in response to bottoming out. Feeling him at this deepest point had you spellbound, your walls fluttering as you did your best to adjust.

You let Thomas keep you in the promising momentum, even as you struggled to catch your breath. He took his mouth down to your neck, dancing kisses across the skin until there was a smile growing on your face. Your hand in his hair gripped into a fist as your greediness took over the threats of being overwhelmed, demanding more.

When your eyes steadily opened, it was to find Damiano mostly blocking your view of Ethan. The singer had leaned down, capturing Ethan’s lips in a series of passionate kisses. Over one of Damiano’s shoulders, you could see her watching the two men making out. There was a satisfied smile on her lips, with her seemingly taking this as inspiration for how she kept at snapping her hips into him.

You stuck with Thomas as he picked up a little speed, chasing greater friction as he lessened the pause between thrusts. Ethan writhed beneath you. Thomas was pushing you closer to that magnificent edge, his hand gripping the curve of your belly as it bounced with every single collision.

“Unf…” Ethan moaned and he threw an arm around Damiano’s shoulders, clinging to him for support.

You felt the quaking of Ethan’s body as more noises came from him. He arched his back, his head massaging you as the clamping of your walls began to spell his end. His fingers gripped you as he gave you as much as he could. Desperation marked his movements, keeping him going.

Until he was overcome by the dawning of his climax. He fell apart with gasps and whines, all from the safety of Damiano’s arms.

“Good boy.” She cooed.

Ethan fell back onto the bed, swearing through his efforts to regain his breath. As he slid out of your cunt, the activity in the room resumed.

You leaned forward, grabbing the mattress with one hand and Ethan with the other in an attempt to keep yourself steady against Thomas’ quick jolting. As your hole clamped around the inches of his dick, you felt the tension inside of you hitting its peak. You choked back sobs as you surrendered into the sensations caused by each monumental-feeling impact.

Beside you, she had gotten quiet in the face of escalating pleasure. Ethan had reached out, playing with her clitoris as she and Damiano continued to move together. She had one leg raised, draped over his shoulder, providing him with an efficient and deep angle. He didn’t need to watch her to keep in time with her bucking, the synergy remained even though his eyes were glued to you and Thomas.

You had lost all track of time, and even your own thoughts. You were floating away on the stimulations as your world was rocked again-and-again on a continuous loop.

With your whole body given over to his incredible pacing, spasms began to occur at your very core. It was too much to resist and the tension was bursting (along with everything else) inside of you.

Thomas crossed the line at almost the same second as you. He jolted forward to finish inside of you. His incoherent, strangled noises accompanied your uncontrolled moaning. This release brought your loudest sounds out, basking in all of the triumph of this moment.

You slumped forward, while trying to not collapse all of your weight onto Ethan. He wrapped you up in his arms as Thomas pulled away from you.

You laid down with Ethan and, for the moment, you were daunted by how widespread the after-effects of your climax were. After so long of being worked up, everything had reached its conclusion.

Even as you enjoyed the sight of it, watching Damiano and Victoria fucking didn’t feel entirely real. It was almost like there was a screen between you and them, putting you in the role of passive viewer.

“Fuck yes.” He rejoiced as she threw her head back, almost levitating off of the bed in her efforts to grind against him. “Yea-ah-ah, fuck yes, yes… ah…”

It appeared that he captured his climax first. But mere seconds later, you were seeing seemingly every muscle in her body clench. Then she began to twitch and convulse in an unfakeable display of overload, promptly followed by her panting into her release.

She wasn’t very responsive to his kisses and soon he was leaving her alone altogether - as was her preferred way to come down. He climbed over to the closeby bed and Thomas joined him on the other king-sized bed. He took up the position of little spoon, both of them facing the bed you occupied.

“Do you get it now- how much we missed you, was that point made clear?” She asked.

You reached out, taking her hand that was lying on the mattress. “Inescapably clear, absolutely nobody needs to try and make that point again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that being on the menu any time soon.” Ethan said, dragging his fingers slowly up-and-down your back.

“Menu.” Damiano repeated, perking up from an inexplicable boost of energy. “Has she seen the menu yet?”

“You left it on the coffee table.” Thomas told him.

He was soon getting up in pursuit of this item. “Thanks, babe.”

“Prepare to never hear the end of how perfect this menu is.” She warned.

“He picked this hotel out of all of the other low-key options we had, specifically due to the room service menu.” Ethan said. “He got one look at that and instantly started picking out the things he knew you would love. After that, it was pretty obvious that none of the other hotels stood a chance.”

You sat up, excited to go over the menu with Damiano. You were more than flattered that this had been the driving factor in choosing this hotel to stay in. They were so concerned with giving you the perfect experience that they had curated it down to the last detail. You knew that you were incredibly lucky to get this. They were showing you the appreciation that you had been failing to show yourself.

The way they were treating you made you forget about the time apart. When they were on the road, all of the effort in your relationship went to finding time for each other. But today, the effort had gone to reaffirming your bond as a fivesome.

And maybe there was still some work to do (catching up with words, getting more thorough with details). But you were definitely back on the right track. You were feeling much better than you had been coming into this, you had been brought to a place where the fact that you belonged with them was beyond doubt.

“Sweetheart, come look at this- they have three different styles of garlic bread.” Damiano said.

You joined him sitting at the end of the bed. “No way.”

After you and he had poured over all of the dishes listed, the menu was passed to the other three. They made their selections and, as usual, the responsibility of calling to place the order fell to Ethan.

As everyone waited for the food to arrive, you looked around at your partners. You could have taken a nap after all of that exertion. But you were feeling energised at being in the same room as them, knowing no one was on the verge of dragging them out to fulfil an important commitment.

You turned to who was closest to you, Damiano. “Okay, catch me up on all the inside jokes I’ve missed.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but Thomas beat him to the punch. “Why would you ask him? He’s the least funny of all of us, it’s literally been documented.”

“Splash.” Victoria contributed, quoting Damiano back to him.

“Fuckin’ splash.” Thomas said.

They were referring back to a word-play joke Damiano had attempted to make when they were featured on one of YouTube’s most watched beauty channels. ‘A guy steps into a caffé… splash’, he had delivered, to a polite but lukewarm response. These days it was used when the others wanted to laugh at him.

His mouth dropped open in exaggerated hurt before he jumped to defend himself. “I was put on the spot, it was the best I could do. I’m funnier in Italian anyway.”

“Are you sure about that?” Thomas asked.

“You’re about to be sure of the back of my hand upside your head.” Damiano play-threatened, getting to his feet.

A new energy came into the suite and you savoured every second of getting to participate with them.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[filmtv2022]

One More Ride (18+ MDNI)

All Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader 

Summary: Rhett & Y/N spend their last night in Wabang together. Pushing away the weight of the world by falling into one another's arms. 

Warnings: SMUT (this is probably the filthiest thing I've written so far) + language 

A/N: I've had the general idea for this story brewing for a while. This story is a one-shot standalone that isn't connected to my series "By Your Side", but if you want more Rhett content... might I suggest that you go read that too! Enjoy & I apologize for any mistakes! 

Bright hues of orange and pink washed over the wispy clouds high in the sky above the pasture. The mountains and far-off forest sat dark on the horizon. An evening breeze picked up as the sun continued to sink, throwing goosebumps over your socked feet and bare arms. It would have been easy to go and grab a hoodie from the cab of the old pickup, but you didn’t want to miss any of the sunset. Digging your toes underneath the pile of blankets that covered the bed of the truck, you leaned back, letting the warmth of Rhett’s solid frame behind you soak in your skin. 

Night was quickly settling over the wild landscape, the Abbott house was barely more than a black spot in the distance. The quiet moment stretched on as you memorized the way the light painted the sky, creating a glittering mosaic of colors. The saturation changed the longer you watched. The bright oranges and pinks faded into dusky blues and purples, which you knew would eventually morph into inky blackness. Sitting here, the reality of what was coming felt heavy in the air. Change was coming, and if tradition held, the Abbott family did poorly with accepting that the world continued to turn, paving the way for the future. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, reveling in the woodsy musk of Rhett’s cologne. His lips pressed a constant kiss to your hair as his hands held firmly to him. An edge of anxiety was obvious in the way he kept you close. One hand gripped tightly onto your waist, while the other drew absent-minded patterns over your thigh. Tracing over the bumps and frays of your jeans before following the line of the seams, picking at the loose threads. 

“You don’t have to do this you know? You don’t have to ride tomorrow. We can leave tonight,” Turning your head to look up at him, you watched his jaw clench, “You just say the word, Rhett, and we’re gone.” 

Looking down at you, his blue eyes ran dark in the dusty light, “You know it’s not that simple.” 

“I know,” reaching up to hold his cheek, you pleaded with him to stay with you, to not look away, “but I also know that the only person in that house right now that gives a shit about you is Amy. And she already knows what's going to happen or has guessed as much anyway. You don’t owe them shit, Rhett.” 

“They’re family.” A pained look furrowed his brow. 

Shifting further, you settled yourself in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Your face now sat even with Rhett’s, as your hands came up to hold his face, his stubble scrapped lightly at your palms. Scanning over his features, you caught the way his anxiety had settled between his brows, the lines growing deeper the longer he sat with the knowledge of what was to come & the guilt of knowing he was finally going to escape. 

“Yeah, they’re family, and that doesn’t change when you drive away from this town. They will always be here, waiting for you, Rhett. But that’s the thing, they’ll always be here. Do you remember what you said? What you've promised me every year since we were eleven?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Bullshit, you remember. Tell me what you said.” 

Locking eyes with you, he spoke the words in a whisper, “I said that I'd get out, that I’d get both of us out.” 

“That’s right, and you know what, it’s been long enough. It’s time. Nothing is holding us here, and If we don’t leave now… I don’t know if we ever will. This place is killing you, Rhett, and I’ll be damned if I let you stay here to die.” pressing your forehead into his, your soft breath fell over his face, “Be selfish for once in your fuckin’g life… ‘cause I can’t do this without you.” 

“One more ride, that’s all that I’m askin’ for. Then we’re out.” 

“For you this time, one more for you. Promise me that.”

“Promise.” Holding you close by the hips, his hand slid up the length of your back, burying itself in your hair so that he could press a gentle kiss on your lips.

The glow of the sunset cast his face in shadows as the gusts of air fluttered the loose pieces of hair around his ears. The errant strands, tickled the delicate skin along your temple, making you smile. Gingerly, you reached out and tucked them back into place. You weren’t ready to relinquish the feeling of him. Trailing your fingertips down the side of his neck, you rested your palms on his chest. Rhett used his strength to haul you even closer, as if he needed to pull you inside of himself, your chest flush with his as he slid a hand down your spine. His wide hands came to rest on your ass. Raking your hands over his sides, a shiver ran over his body at the feeling of your touch. The beer he’d been drinking sat sweetly on his breath as your lips brushed together. 

Desperation for you filled his every move, you were the answer to every question that ran unchecked through his mind. His mouth found your neck, nipping at the tender flesh and leaving marks in the wake. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, he shifted beneath you, slotting a thigh between your own. Using his strength, he forced your weight down. Your thoughts swam at the pressure of him holding you in place on top of him, your hips moving of their own accord. A groan fell from his lips as your head fell back in pleasure. 

Sinking his fingers into the sliver of skin that sat exposed between the hem of your shirt and your jeans, a shaky breath rattled from his lungs, “Fuck.”

“Rhett.” His name was nearly a whine as you called for him.

“I know, baby.” 

Helping you move, a low groan rumbled from his chest as you continued to brush up against him. Each movement sent shock waves through his body. Rhett’s hands wandered, skimming over your chest before sinking back down. Toying with the button on your jeans, but leaving it closed, he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband. His callouses were rough against, you as he continued to move. Your lips found his neck as he ghosted over your core, the pressure just enough to leave you wanting more. Taking him by the wrist, you held him in place, encouraging him to continue and silently begging for more. The rapid rise and fall of your chest spurred him on, his nerves alight with anticipation. 

A whimper tumbled from you as Rhett removed his hand from your hold, but the disappointment was short-lived. With his eyes locked onto you, Rhett's fingers fumbled with the button on your waistband. Popping it open, he wasted no time dipping his fingers below the fabric. 

Your slick coated his fingers, “So fuckin’ wet. This all for me, Darlin’?”

“Yes, Rhett, all for you.” The touch was nearly too much and yet not enough. 

A wanton moan ripped from you as he continued to bring you closer to the edge. Losing his self-control, Rhett rather hastily turned you over. Settling his weight between your legs, and rolling his hips into yours, earning a heady groan from you. The ridges of the truck bed pressed sharply into your back even through the layers of blankets, but that was so far from your mind. The only thing that mattered was him.

Rhett’s hands once again slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your bra. Mouthing at the top of your breasts, his patience for the garment in his way lasted only so long. His hand slipped behind your back, grasping for the clasp, and finding it. Moving just enough to free it from your body, he tossed it to the side before tugging your shirt the rest of the way off. You reached for the hem of his t-shirt, and he realized what you wanted, and quickly got rid of it 

With both your tops dropped somewhere nearby, he dipped back down to capture your mouth, the kiss hungry and wild. Accepting everything that he gave, your back arched as he worshipped every inch of your body, his lips, and fingers tracing over the contours of your curves. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful” he whispered as he trailed down the expanse of your stomach with featherlight kisses. 

Moving lower, he gripped at your still-covered thighs, pressing kisses over your hips before turning his attention to your core. Carefully, he pushed your legs further apart, his thumb running lightly over where you needed him most, his lips following close behind, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. 

“Don’t be a goddamn tease, Rhett Abbott” Twining your fingers through his hair, you tugged at the strands trying to guide him in the right direction. 

A low huff of laughter rumbled through his chest, “Getting impatient aren’t ya?.” 

Sitting up, he peeled your jeans from your body, his hands raking over the newly exposed skin. The heat flowing through your veins left you reeling. Adjusting your position so that you were able to look into his eyes, you brushed your lips over his as you spoke, “Yeah, I am. Are you gonna do something about it… or should I take care of myself?” 

Your hand smoothed over your underwear, pushing it aside, and you dipped your fingers beneath drawing a gasp from yourself. You stayed focused on him, daring him to make the next move. A challenge he happily accepted. 

“Callin’ me a tease… jesus christ woman" Stripping off his own jeans and underwear, as quickly as he could, his boots also discarded, he wasted no time returning to you.

Crashing against, you, his sure touch replaced your own. Panting into his mouth, you gave yourself over completely to him. Moving in gentle strokes and circles with his fingers, he worked you closer and closer to the edge. Feeling your body stiffen, and your breaths turn into erratic heaves, he continued to rile you up. 

“Fuck, Rhett!”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” 

“I want- I need to-” You couldn't finish your thought, but he knew very well what you were asking for, he could feel how close you were. 

“After what you said earlier… you sure you deserve it?” he relished the scent of the whiskey on your breath from earlier as he swiped over your bottom lip, nipping lightly, before tasting you. 

Ghosting over your entrance, he moved at a languid pace, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to tip you over. 

“Don’t make me beg, Rhett.” Your hand that had been grasping at his ass, slipped between you two, finding him aching and waiting for your touch. Wrapping your fingers around him, you stroked him roughly, earning a deep groan.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you beg. Just let me enjoy this for a minute, darlin’” Smirking, he pushed your hips down into the blankets as he kissed down the column of your neck. 

He paid close attention to the way your breath hitched as he expertly found your most sensitive areas. Working his way down your frame, he held you in place as you writhed under his touch. Rhett’s warm breath, breezed over your core, causing you to clench in anticipation. His lips found your clit as his fingers curled inside, ripping a needy moan from you as he hummed against your body. Unable to stay still, you rolled your hips up to meet him, begging him for more. Listening to your silent pleas, his tongue worked in steady strokes, pulling you further from reality. Hanging on by a thread, you gasped in shock at the sudden loss of his touch. 

“What the fuck-” 

“I want to feel you around me when you come.” 

Kissing you deeply, he pressed into you in one fluid motion. Both of you let go of desperate moans at the feeling of having one another so close. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he waited for you to give him permission to continue. 

“You all right?”

“I need you to move, Rhett.” 

“Good girl. You feel so fuckin’ perfect... like you were made for me.” 

“Holy shit” Digging your fingers into this hair and back, you trembled at the feeling of him, your nails sinking into his skin. 

The pair of you were insatiable. You rolled your hips in time with him, pulling delicious moans from each other with every thrust. Reaching up, Rhett laced his finger with yours, holding your hand up by your head as he continued to move. His pace faltered as he felt himself drawing closer to his own release. Pleasure consumed the pair of you heart and soul. 

“I’m close.” his voice was airy and light as he whispered his confession.

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, you pulled him closer, “Let go, Rhett. I’ve got you.”

Weak moans left your lips as he quickened his pace, chasing his climax. Reaching between you, his fingers once again found your clit, “Come with me, Y/N.” 

Snapping his hips in time with his touches, he felt you clench around him as you cried out. You climax washing over you in waves of lightning, setting every nerve in your body on fire. Feeling you go, Rhett was right behind. With one final thrust, you felt him fall over the edge, joining you with his release. Swallowing his sharp exhales and groans, you kissed him deeply as he came. 

Slowing down, Rhett stayed buried inside of you as he shifted so that you were lying on top of him. His body was so spent that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to keep from collapsing on top of you if he’d stayed how you were before. Silence fell over the two of you as your lungs returned to normal, your muscles warm and pliable as you soaked in the feeling of each other. Tugging the edge of a blanket over the top of you both, Rhett ran his finger down the length of your back. The feeling of your skin soothing away the last remnants of worry. Lost in each other’s arms, it was easy to forget every fear that threatened to tear the two of you apart. Here, like this, the future seemed limitless.

“I love you, Y/N. And we’re getting out of here, just like I promised.” 

“I love you too, Rhett.” 

[athena-theunicorn]

Okay, I don't usually make super long posts but I had to explain these out in detail and have people tell me I'm not crazy.

TL;DR: Why Tears of the Kingdom could be the end of the timeline (not necessarily a circle end, either), and why our theories saying Zelda was Hylia during the trailer era were right.

First order of buisness, I don't watch many theory videos. I haven't seen anyone talk about this here or on reddit, so I assume it's not a very well known thought, but I could be wrong. I could also just be spouting bullshit. The only three games I've completed have been SS, BotW, and TotK.

How is totk the end of the timeline?

Excellent question. Thus begins my tedtalk.

So, we know that Ganondorf was a Gerudo King, yes. He was esentially sealed away by Rauru because at the time they didn't have a working master sword to kill him with. Ganondorf lay in stasis in the depths of the first castle for probably many millennia. Zelda is able to tell them all of this because she's seen it all happen before, right in front of her eyes. So she is able to prepare them for war accordingly.

But since Ganondorf in this time was only sealed, it means he never died. And we don't know all exactly what Rauru's power is capable of. We don't know if, for example, bits of Ganondorf's power was able to escape and create figureheads to aid in the destruction of men named Link and Princesses named Zelda.

You heard that right. I think that Ganondorf was the first Evil Incarnate to grace the Kingdom of Hyrule. He was somehow able to reach bits of his magic and create weaker versions of himself to hopefully end or at the very least terrorize the future generations of the Kingdom he wanted so desperately. He created Demise to warn the generations of the terror he would cause. It was never a curse, but more like a promise.

It explains the (somewhat silly) health bar during the final battle. It explains why when he was disturbed for the first time in eons his was brittle, dehydrated, and weak to the Sword. Using his magic to make lesser versions of himself drained him, leaving him with a mummy. But when he finally awakened he was able to revive himself while Link was running around Hyrule looking for his Zelda.

But now that Ganondorf is vanquished once and for all with the Master Sword, I believe he is no longer able to send bits of himself out to terrorize people, thus ending the timeline for good.

Whooh. Okay.

Why is TotK Zelda actually Hylia?

This point is only slightly connected, so bare with me.

So, in Skyward Sword we know that it is explained that Hylia sent Hyrule to the sky to ward off a great evil and such. And in the Dragon Tear scenes on totk there are no sky islands, thus letting us believe this is before the islands were sent to the sky, if this is truly the first generation in a land called Hyrule.

In the final dragon tear scene ( I know, I'm sorry to bring it up, it still makes me cry too), Zelda - or the Light Dragon - is seen flying through the cloud barrier.

We aren't shown this part, but I think that hen Zelda flew above the cloud barrier, parts of the land broke off and went with her, ascending to the skys like how Skyward Sword described. Execpt Skyward Sword said that Hylia was the one to make Skyloft. But whos to say they're not one in the same?

Do you need more evidence? Well sure.

The other three known dragons (Farosh, Naydra, and Dinnral) are named after the three golden goddesses, the ones that left Hyrule in Hylia's care. Now, we don't know how these dragons came to be, if they were always there, if they're the goddesses spirits, or if they actually ate secret stones themselves. But you know who doesn't have a dragon? Hylia. And the Light Dragon has no name other than that. Because Hylia was the one to eat the secret stone, and Zelda didn't know she was Hylia herself.

Additionally, this explains why Zelda had such a hard time in Breath of the Wild reaching her powers. Because she was praying to nobody, and when she finally looked into herself for the answers she was able to finally reach that power. Hylia had nothing to do with it, and praying to her was all a lost cause anyway.

Dear god my brain hurts. But this was fun low key.

[bizaar]

Cruel Summer - Part 15

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pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 8k

warnings: swearing, horror descriptors, violence/blood, characters being in danger - people are getting fucked up, but the worst is yet to come (I'm so sorry)

A.N.: I couldn't do it, Chat, I had to split this chapter up into two parts - shit has officially hit the fan

Running is not your favorite activity. Never has been, never will be, and yet here you inexplicably are, hauling ass through the woods of your nightmares like your life depends upon it – which it absolutely does. 

There is no question in your mind as to what will happen to you if you are caught, and it is that very thought that spurs you on. The Demogorgon ate Barb, and if you are not quick, and careful and extremely fucking light on your feet, these bats are going to eat you. 

Somehow, you don’t imagine they’ll do you the courtesy of killing you first, either. 

So no, running is not something you particularly enjoy doing (it’s a wonder you went and willingly volunteered for this – the things you do for love). You might even be inclined to say that running is awful.

Always has been, always will be.

It’s nothing but the terrible sensation of feeling every part of your body moving, shifting awkwardly under the duress of being suddenly thrust into motion, forcing you to become painfully aware of yourself in ways you are typically content to ignore. 

But you’re not thinking about any of that. 

You’re not thinking about the way your lungs are heaving and quickly growing tight and raw, how your knees and ankles are already stinging with every pounding step you take.

You’re not thinking about the walkie-talkie strung around you, thump thump thumping awkwardly against your side, strap chafing against your neck, corner digging sharply in, and grinding a bruise into your hip.

You’re not thinking about the trees and branches reaching out to snag you and slow you down at every turn, and you’re absolutely not thinking about the cloud of certain death tailing not so distantly behind you. 

You’re not thinking at all— you’re just running. 

Faster than you ever have, faster than you ever thought you were capable of, so fast it feels a little bit like flying.

The only indication that the bats have taken the bait is the rushing sound of hundreds of flapping wings and wiry bodies moving through the trees around you like crashing thunder. You know you should be scared out of your wits – you’re sure you would be if you were any smarter, but you’re not. 

You’re just running.

Suddenly it’s like the forest is not even there. There are no bats, there is no Upsidedown, no impending doom brought upon you by some bullshit wizard out of Eddie’s imagination – it’s just you and the wind upon which you glide.  

You’re too caught in the half-drunken state of giddy nerves and adrenaline to be worried about not being scared. The absence of your fear leaves you feeling more than a little bit astounded at how well you’re doing. 

You marvel at your pace – how you haven’t stumbled or faltered even once, how fast you are. 

You could almost laugh out loud at the feeling of it, the freedom – then again that could just be the heady intoxication of running for your life, but you can’t presently be bothered by things of the rational world. 

You’re winged Icarus taking flight, skirting the sky, chasing the wind, led on by the distant themes of the loving Metallica tribute raging on. 

You run hard and fast, without abandon or fear of things like the fragility of your squishy mortal form, flailing desperately as you take flight. 

Nothing can touch you — nothing but cruel irony and raised tree roots.

In an instant, it all comes crashing down. Your foot snags, and you stumble with a harsh, breathless expletive, very nearly tumbling ass over teakettle, and the terrible sobering reality of your frailty comes rushing back to you. 

Suddenly, you remember that running is terrible, and you’re actually very bad at it. 

It’s all chaffed thighs and twisted ankles, huffing and puffing and feeling every drop of sweat that comes cascading down from all the nooks and crannies in your body that you spend the duration of your days mostly unaware of. 

You’re no golden icon stealing their freedom on a wing and a prayer, you’re nothing more than a mediocre student with a shitty car, oblivious parents, and no academic ambition – more than that, you suddenly have the very good sense to be afraid again, and it hits you like a brick to the face.

This isn’t some agonizing fifth-period excursion into the sadistic tendencies of your gym teacher – this is honest-to-God danger. You are being hunted and if you are caught you will die. 

You may very likely die anyway – that’s just the name of the game.

Suddenly, you can feel your blood turning to sludge in your veins, your legs starting to tremble, and your lungs beginning to spasm with each greedy intake of air, but despite all of that, you keep running.

You run, because what other choice have you got? 

The wailing screech of Eddie’s guitar is the guiding beacon, tugging on the strings of your heart and sending you sailing through the woods toward safety, but the squeeze of Dustin’s watch strapped to your wrist is a ball and chain, dragging you down further and further into the loamy earth with every second that ticks away too fast.

As if to drive the notion home, the watch pipes up, beeping a shrill call, an unhelpful reminder of what will happen if time runs out before you make it back.

You resist the urge to check the time – you know you’re already behind schedule, but you don’t think about that. 

You don’t think about tripping or the bats or how slow you are, and you certainly don’t think about getting caught, being torn limb from limb and eaten alive — just like Barb — don’t think about it, don’t think about it — don’t think just run! 

You focus on your breathing, and you try to remember what Steve told you.

In and out. Deep, slow breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

Don’t gasp for air. Don’t hyperventilate. Don’t pass out — don’t trip.

Oh shit! 

Your foot snags another tree root and for a second you imagine they must be sentient, lifting up to purposely slow you down like something out of The Wizard of Oz. 

You always hated that movie.

You stagger, arms windmilling, legs kicking out – your palms kiss the ground but you don’t fall. 

You keep running.

Beep beep — the goddamn watch is mocking you.

It’s got to be, because how else can time be passing so quickly when every bit of physical education you’ve ever endured has existed in a bizarre never-ending loop of slow motion.

Why is this so different?

Because you’re running for your goddamn life, Stupid.

Beep beep — Better pick up the pace.

Master of Puppets is still a distant sound, and despite how far you think you’ve come, you’ve still got so far to go.

It’s not getting any closer… why isn’t it getting any closer? 

Slowly, the nagging pull of hideous reality creeps up and begins to whisper to you. You hear it over the rip and pull of your breathing, murmuring terrible secrets through the thunder of your footsteps, the hammering of your heart, the roaring of your blood, like poison in the ear. 

It tells you all the things you don’t want to hear – it tells you you’re not going to make it. 

Desperately, you try to find your bearings and locate yourself out in the dark without taking the time to look around. You can’t afford to take another tumble, but without looking you’re running with blinders on.

Everything is so different on this side, in the dark landmarks are only vaguely familiar and trees all look the same. That much is true up in the real world, but down here it is multiplied tenfold. 

That voice is still whispering, telling you that somehow you’ve turned yourself around, that you’re headed away from the trailer and thats why the music isn’t getting any closer.

Suddenly, you can’t help but get the irrational sense that you are headed toward the Creel House instead of away from it, and it’s enough to send your heart rocketing up into your throat like it means to escape and abandon you to your ever slowing pace. 

Somehow, cooler heads prevail, and you swallow back that fear like bile rising in your throat. You know you can’t afford the luxury of second-guessing yourself – not with hell snapping at your heels like this, so you dig in.

You run, and you trust, and you hope beyond hope that you’re headed in the right direction.

Fuck running, fuck Vecna and his shitty stupid bats, and fuck this fucking place. 

There is no gradual end to the woods. 

The tree line stands a stark barrier, still and silent until you shatter the illusion of peace. You burst through the trees, out into the open ground, and shockingly cold air that has you gasping out, like being submerged in a freezing pool. 

Out of the woods, you are freed from the bone-crushing haze you hadn’t realized had descended upon you until it is gone. The open air fills you with a strange clarity, and suddenly, like lifting a veil, you can see – the edge of the trailer park lies beyond. 

The music is loud now, loud enough that you can feel every chord striking in your back teeth.  

You laugh out a loud, breathless thing that presents itself as much more a desperate shout than anything else. In the distance, you can almost see Eddie and Dustin, crouched atop the trailer.

Little victories are victories all the same, and you watch with something that could almost be misconstrued as glee as the bats shift up in one dark cloud of movement, suddenly much more interested in the sound that drew their attention in the first place. The potential for a larger, more appealing meal than the one you present. 

Another beep yelps at you from your wrist, and this time you dare to steal a foolish glance at the watch. The numbers count down at a rapid pace, just as you imagined they would, pale glowing green signifying a head-on collision with your doom — t-minus sixty seconds, less than a minute to go. 

You kick your knees up higher and throw your arms out in the hopes it might make some minute difference.

Must go faster… must go faster!

You can see them now, no real details, just the suggestion of figures perched atop the trailer, backlit with every angry flash of lightning.

You see Dustin crouched beside the amp, and you see Eddie thrashing against Sweetheart in time with the wailing screech of the solo you’ve long since stopped hearing over the roaring blood in your ears. 

You’re in the home stretch — you’re going to make it. 

You take another hard step, and without any sort of prelude to the danger awaiting the ground crumbles beneath you. Your attention snaps to your feet on instinct and your stomach bottoms out in what can only be described as pants-shitting terror as you realize too late that the road is gone. 

Scratch that — the ground is gone, replaced instead with a yawning chasm of darkness, like a terrible grinning maw, splitting the land open to swallow you whole.

You gasp out a breath you can’t spare and try in vain to dig your back foot into the loamy brush that isn’t there, desperately hoping somehow, you’ll land on solid ground and not go cartwheeling into the abyss. 

It’s always the hope that kills you. 

Before you can react, gravity reaches up to snatch your forwardmost foot and drags you over the edge. Overhead, the swarm pays you no mind as you plummet, still hurdling on toward the deafening sound of Eddie living out his wildest Metal-God wet dreams. 

Sweetheart wails out a keening cry of ecstasy on a high note, the sound is tinged with the faintest hint of a terrified shriek as you drop out of existence.

You fall, something reaches out and snags you, and just as quickly as your plunge begins, it ends.

You come to a hard, lurching stop, and your head snaps backward, cracking against something sharp and solid. It sends stars and colors skittering brightly across your vision before they are quickly banished by shadows creeping in like the tide, and you lay where you landed, dazed and spinning.

Don’t pass out, You tell yourself as you sink further and further into the darkness below, don’t pass out…

...

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

The sound is a faint stabbing thing, prodding you back to life. You groan out a ragged sound as, slowly, you begin to come back to yourself, shifting and attempting to sit up to middling results.

Your head feels fat and swollen – it protests the way you attempt to shake your senses back into place with the bright bursts of an oncoming migraine. The harsh jerk of your head sends your brain buzzing frantically in your skull before bursting, leaving you terribly nauseous and with the vaguest sensation that you are spinning.

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

It takes a very long moment for you to remember where you are and what happened to get you there.

You remember falling, the harsh start and stop of the motion, how you’d cracked your head on something when you landed — a rock maybe? 

Everything hurts, but at least it’s an indicator that you’re not dead — now if only you could open your eyes. Your lids slide over your eyes like sandpaper and you are almost half convinced that you imagined the sensation when the darkness does not disperse. You blink, once, twice, three times to no avail – your vision does not clear, and slowly, you come to the terrifying realization that sometime in the last few minutes, you have gone inexplicably blind. 

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

You’d once seen a Dateline special about a man who was hit in the back of the head during a bar fight and had his retinas snap as a result — a one in a million chance, they’d called it, but the thought causes your stomach to heave all the same.

How far-fetched would it be to assume you could be that one in a million, considering the rotten turn of your luck over the past few days? 

Oh God oh Christ! You think, opening your eyes as wide as they will go against the wall of black in a desperate attempt to kickstart your vision into working order.

Your mind screams at the thought of being stuck down at the bottom of some pit, dying down in the dark without even having the courtesy of seeing what kills you.

Suddenly, there is a flash to your left – you scream and recoil only to be met with another on your right as something flails pathetically in your peripheral vision. 

After a heart pounding moment, you heave out a sigh of relief as you come to realize that it is only your hands, windmilling above you as you instinctively fight the gentle swaying of your body in what’s left of your momentum. 

A cursory glance upward confirms what you knew all along, that you haven’t been struck blind, after all. In the intermittent flashes of light, you can see your dingy sneaker snagged in a gnarled swathe of roots and branches, jutting out from the side of the open earth, holding you suspended only a few feet down — thank fuck for that. 

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

Dangling upside down by one foot, staring into the impenetrable dark of an apparently bottomless chasm with little to no hope of escape is not the worst-case scenario, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly not ideal. 

As you begin the arduous task of getting yourself upright again, you become aware of the hot bloom of blood spreading across your scalp from whatever you’d smacked it on.

Suddenly, you can’t help but imagine it dripping from the ends of your hair, down into the dark to pique the interest of something else – something ancient and terrible slumbering deep down in the dark.  

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

You remember then that there are other things to be afraid of down here, other beasties than the bats still wheeling overhead.

You don’t know what a Demogorgon is supposed to look like or whether it happens to live at the bottom of highly inconvenient chasms in the earth only to be summoned by the smell of fresh blood and stupid girls overexerting themselves, but you aren’t expressly keen on sticking around to find out.

You haven’t seen that movie, but you have no interest in starring in the sequel, and it is enough to light a fire under your ass … or over it, considering your upside-down state. 

You twist and bend at the waist until you can catch a fist full of roots and begin the Herculean task of trying to navigate free of the tangle without losing your grip and dropping off into an inky black eternity. 

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

You try not to think about the last time you did a sit-up as your abs burn and your back creaks and you grunt out the effort of trying to pull yourself up and out of the darkness. 

You twist and tug and finally — finally — manage to get yourself sitting upright again, and then you climb.

Fingers in the earth, hand over fist, you claw your way up and over the lip of the chasm and haul your sorry carcass out of the pit. 

Beep beep — beep beep — beep beep.

Back on solid ground, you lay panting, shivering for the overexertion of your muscles and the way the dank air has settled on the sleek sheen of sweat coating every inch of your body. 

You roll over onto your back and watch the bats wheel overhead. You keep breathing, the storm keeps on raging, and very slowly the horror of this strangely peaceful moment begins to dawn on you.

It’s quiet.

Holy shit – holy fucking shit, it’s quiet. 

“Oh, shit!” You gasp, lurching up with enough force that your head threatens to start spinning again. “No, no no no no!” 

There’s no music, no screaming orgasm of a guitar solo, no voices shouting your name and urging you to get up off your ass. There’s nothing but the incessant beeping of the watch. 

You’re on your feet before your body has anything to say about it, hands fisted in your hair as you scan the horizon, desperately searching the trailer tops for any signs of human life.

Dustin and Eddie are gone.

Your heart jumps up into your throat and lodges itself there before beginning to swell, choking you and stopping you from making any sort of sound. 

The trailer is teeming with bats, not a scrap of the dingy tin siding is visible beneath the writhing mass of bodies — even under the squirming mess of fear that your brain has devolved into, you know you couldn’t get within ten feet of that place if your life depended on it, which it does.

You missed your window. The bats beat you back to the trailer, and that means you’re trapped out here. 

When your heart finally slips back down into your chest, it settles there with a deafening thump and pulls loose the stopper on your bottled fear — you’re filling your lungs before you’re even aware of what you’re about to do. 

“EDDIE!” You scream, your voice breaking in a potent combination of desperation and sheer volume. 

You don’t remember a time you’ve ever screamed that loud – you’ve long since been conditioned to stay quiet and well-behaved by parents who were far too busy to have a rowdy child on their hands, but desperate times call for desperate fucking shouts, and it leaves your vocal cords raw and trembling.

There is nothing but the hollow sound of your voice echoing back at you, less muted than it had been back at the Creel place, but no less haunting. 

It’s a very foolish thing to do, especially when only moments before you’d been gripped in the very rational fear that there are other things skulking about — things much more likely to hear you than Eddie will be, closed up in the trailer a hundred yards off, but you’re just about ready to come apart at the seams watching the bats overtake the structure. 

You suddenly feel hideously exposed. 

You fist your hand in the front of your shirt, clawing at the space where your heart ought to be, where you can feel it beating against your ribs as you feel the black grip of panic closing in on you.

You know what you’re supposed to do, but the trailer is there – it’s right fucking there — and you can’t get to it. 

You spin around in aimless circles, looking for somewhere to go, some way around this bullshit hole in the ground and the bats that will surely tear you to pieces once they notice you standing there, and you come up empty. 

There’s nothing you can do, no way to get Eddie’s attention without alerting the bats… you’re supposed to go to the van…

And then you remember the walkie-talkie.

Your mind detaches from your body as you reach for it and find nothing but air. It’s not slung across your body like it had been only moments before, a constant companion bouncing against your hip and digging deeper and deeper into the bruise it made with every step you took from the Creel House to here. 

Your stomach drops into your ass, and you feel like you’re going to be sick as you realize it’s in the pit. 

Gravity must have taken it when you fell, taking with it any hope of communication, of rescue. You stand frozen, staring into that terrible darkness that your eyes refuse to adjust to. Its churns and writhes and remains impenetrable, unknowable, and you feel your hands curl tighter in on your chest.

Suddenly, you’re six years old again, trembling in the aftershocks of a nightmare and facing the immense darkness of the hallway that leads to your parents’ bedroom. 

Salvation is right there, and you can’t get to it.

And then the darkness speaks. 

In a moment of profound panic, your mind goes hideously blank and your name ekes up out of the pit.

Look into the abyss and the abyss will look back …

The noise comes again, strangely familiar in a way that makes your skin crawl, until you realize why. 

It takes a long, terrifying moment to realize that your name is not being spoken by some kind of horrible eldritch beast – it’s coming from the radio – it’s coming from Eddie. 

A bloody red flash of lightning reaches as far down into the dark as it dares and there you see it. The walkie-talkie, hanging by its strap, clinging on to a particularly gnarled root as it sways under its own weight — suddenly, there’s still a chance. 

You drop instantly to your belly and inch forward, resting your chin on the lip of the crevasse and spitting dirt as you extend your reach for the boxy piece of tech. You’ve got to get it, but you’re not about to go any further back into the pit then you absolutely must — you reach for the thing, waggling your fingers like somehow, it’s going to Go-Go-Gadget extend them far enough to snag it, but it’s no use.

Your arms aren’t long enough, and the walkie remains far out of your reach.

Something strikes you — raking talons come down to tear across the top of your head to snag your hair.

Bats… how could you have forgotten the bats?

It wrenches you backward, tearing from you a loud cry of alarm before you jerk free of its claws. You briefly entertain the notion of abandoning the radio and heading for the hills, but if Eddie is going to save you, you’re going to tell him what’s happening, so against your better judgment and every natural instinct you have, screaming at you to RUN, you scramble forward again, desperately reaching for the radio all while doing your best to brace against the monsters wheeling overhead.

You’re not nearly close enough to reach the thing, but you’ve come too far to give up on it.

Your name comes up from the pit again, garbled and half cut off in the static of the interference of this place.

“–o to– an!” The walkie commands you.

Caution be damned, you push out further than before, bracing your hips over the crumbling edge of the earth and extending your arm far past its reach, trusting in some higher power that you will not go tumbling into that great expanse. 

You wince under the way your shoulder clicks painfully on the edge of hyperextension, and you reach reach reach as that same garbled command is fed through a paper shredder and out from the walkie-talkie, Eddie imploring you to do something. 

“Go–t– th– va–!” 

Your fingers brush the strap once, twice, three times. You teeter further than is rightly wise and hook a finger in the Mylar just as the ground shifts beneath you again. You blink back visions of toppling forward, of things rising from the earth with grabbing hands to drag you down into the depths, and you close your fist, scrambling backward just as more of the loamy earth gives way.

You don't even wait to catch your breath before you bring the walkie up to your mouth, pressing the button on the side and shouting down the line.  

“Eddie help me I can’t get to you the road is gone and the bats are everywhere I don’t know what to do!” 

The second you take your thumb off the button, your instructions come screaming over the radio, loud and clear. 

“Go to the van!” Eddie shouts, “RUN!”    

You’re only granted a microsecond to wallow in the despair of that command before another one of the bats strikes the ground hard beside you – a big one, easily the size of a golden retriever, scrambling forward with a toothy screech as it reaches for you. 

You scream, pushing up with a desperate gasp, and bolt back into the trees, back the way Eddie showed you on the other side. 

It doesn’t take long to get through to that lonely stretch of highway. There sits the van, just as Eddie had promised it would be, though suddenly looking much more like a tired sagging animal on this side than the crouching beast you know so well. 

Time is stuck down here, he’d said, it’s still November ‘83, he’d said. 

Somehow, the van doesn't seem to have gotten that message.

It’s long abandoned, listing hard to the right on flat tires. It’s caked in thick layers of dirt and grime and wrapped in a constricting swathe of vines that reminds you far too much of a snake strangling its prey than you’re comfortable with, considering you intend to barricade yourself in the belly of the sad creature before you.

You don’t have time to ask whether this is actually a good idea or not, because the bats are swarming, snapping at your heels, whipped into a frothy tizzy over the trailing scent of freshly spilled blood and fleeing prey. 

You hit the van at a flat sprint, crashing into the side panel with a bang as you slap your open palms against it in a desperate search for the handle. You don’t find it until you’ve circled halfway around to the back door, and even then, it takes several hard tugs to pry the thing open.

A bat strikes the panel beside your head, and then another, cracking the glass and startling you into screaming as you crank the door open as far as you dare and squeeze through the gap.

You slam the door and throw your body across the truck bed in one swift movement, colliding heavily with the back of the driver’s seat and curling in on yourself, watching the hazy shadows of dozens of little bodies come crowding together in the spot where you were just standing, blocking out any semblance of light there is in this place. 

Your body throbs with adrenaline and burns in a hundred different places where the woods tore at your skin and clothes, all while your heart hammers against your ribcage like it means to burst forth. Dark spots and flecks of light burst in the dark and you sit there gasping for air, just like Steve had warned you not to. Your head swims and suddenly you can’t help but get the sensation that you’re swaying. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you’ve strayed the line into hyperventilation, and that you’re going to pass out if you don’t manage to slow your breathing. 

If you pass out you’re dead, you got that?

You swallow hard against the copper you can suddenly taste flecking up from the back of your throat and pull your knees up to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut and channeling all your limited focus into taking deep, steadying breaths, just the way you’d practiced.

Deep breath, in through the nose. Out through the mouth. Rinse and repeat until you don’t feel like you’re this close to fainting any longer. 

It doesn’t work so well with your lungs spasming under duress and refusing to inflate again. 

Then you can hear the crackling sound of someone calling your name over the radio.

You fumble frantically in the dark for the walkie-talkie, hearing the sound of your name getting a little more desperate with every passing moment. When you finally get your hands on it, you snatch it up and press the plunger.

“I’m here,” you gasp, “I’m here.”

“No, you’re not!” Dustin fires back, “Where the hell are you?”

You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can get a word out, Eddie’s voice comes ringing frantically over the line. 

“What happened? Baby– what happened?”

You don’t get the chance to answer him before something hits the side of the van with enough force to rattle the windows and send it swaying on its creaking shocks.

For half a moment you don’t dare to breathe as you’re flooded with images of the constricting vines stirring to life and crushing the van flat with you trapped inside.

You realize with a sickening start that not only was this very bad idea, but that your safe haven is very likely about to become a corroded steel coffin. And then it happens again, and again, boom after thunderous boom like being caught in a torrential hailstorm, or a fucking tornado. The van rattles and rocks and shifts violently as dozens of bodies strike the steel paneling, hitting the vehicle on all sides.

When the first of the indents begin to implode inward, you throw yourself to the bed of the van, scrambling to hide in the filthy blankets and things that belong to an Eddie that doesn’t exist down here. 

Then, without much in the way of warning, the left-hand side of the van caves in entirely and splits open. There are suddenly dozens of little creatures there, fighting to get through to you, fighting each other, and the sides of the torn metal digging into their ugly little faces as they try and force their way through.

You watch in horror as the jagged edge peels back their skin, flaying them alive and spilling their thick, black blood, and they just keep coming, thrashing, and reaching and screaming like they don’t even feel it, like they’re just that desperate to get to you.

You scramble backward, but before you can realize that there’s nowhere to go, the van is struck again with that same force. This time, the van rocks up on two wheels, sending you sprawling as it lists hard to the right. With a sad and ominous groan, gravity takes it, sending you scrambling for purchase, reaching out to brace yourself against something – anything – as the van tips and begins to roll.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The commotion that comes pouring over the radio is absolutely terrifying, like nothing Dustin has ever heard. A roaring static boom of crunching, creaking metal, and breaking glass, intercut with a healthy dosage of angry static and the chewed-up sound of your screaming.

Dustin feels like he’s going to break into a thousand tiny pieces as he stands paralyzed, listening to the soundtrack of something terrible and violent happening to you. He doesn’t know what to do – he’s got to do something, help you somehow, but his mind has gone blank.

For all he knows he could be listening to you die, and he can’t do anything about it – he’s got to save you, but he knows there’s nothing he can do.

You didn’t make it…

Dustin’s fingers are trembling as he fists them into the gray sweater he’d shrugged into for battle and tries to convince himself that you’re okay.

Maybe it’s not even you making those awful sounds, maybe you lost the radio somewhere, escaped whatever the hell is happening on the other end of the line, and are headed back to them as they speak. Maybe you just got sidetracked and you’re about to come pounding down the back door, screaming to be let in. 

Maybe he’ll wake up in a second and discover this was all just a terrible dream and none of this ever happened. Chrissy’s not dead, Vecna’s not real, and everything is sunshine lollipops and rainbows.

Maybe maybe maybe…

After a moment that feels like an eternity, the sounds finally stop, and then there is nothing but white noise – Dustin can’t breathe. 

Eddie hits the button on the side of the walkie, cutting the static and speaking your name into the silence. His voice is uneven and immediately betrays the facade of his calm.

Nothing.

Once more, he presses the button and calls your name, same tone – same wavering lilt in his voice. 

“–come in…”

Static.  

Dustin can’t decide if he’s about to vomit or burst into tears.

“Eddie–” he starts, unable to keep his voice from quavering with emotion, “What—what do we do?”

But Eddie doesn’t hear him, or he just plain ignores him, and Dustin’s heart is in his throat for it. For lack of anything better to do, he asks again.

“Eddie, what do we do?” 

Silence.

The muscles in Eddie’s jaw flex as he grits his teeth, and the walkie-talkie begins to tremble in his hand. He inhales sharply in a highly disturbing way that leaves Dustin suddenly half afraid that he’s about to come apart at the seams.

He hates this he hates this he hates this — why did Eddie tell you to run? Why couldn’t you make it back to them? Why won’t Eddie just talk to him? 

Dustin hiccups and seizes Eddie by the sleeve of his jacket, tugging hard on him, like somehow, it’s going to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in, like somehow it’s going to bring you back. 

“Eddie–!” He cries. 

Eddie wrenches his arm free and shushes him harshly, calling your name once more, louder this time, failing entirely to keep his voice steady. 

He has officially lost his cool. 

“–Come in, Baby…  come in, come in, come in Goddammit! We really need a sign of life here…” he pleads, growing more frantic by the second, fisting his hand in his hair and breathing hard like he can’t get enough air, “I-I need— I need a sign. Just give me a sign – just tell me you’re okay … Baby, please—”

BOOM. 

Their heads snap up toward the sound like meerkats moving in tandem as an air of doom settles heavily over the room, slicing through any kind of premature settling grief. 

They’d been so worried about what was happening with you that they’d conveniently forgotten to be afraid for their own lives. Just because they are inside does not mean they are anywhere within the arena of safety.

As if to punctuate that fact, outside, the screen door begins to rattle loudly on its hinges like it’s caught in a hurricane. It thrashes and whines against the barrage of whatever is happening just outside the door before there is the scream and pop of it being torn away entirely. 

The bats are through their defenses.

“Eddie?” 

“...Oh, shit…” 

BOOM. 

The front door rattles under the duress of the bats all hurling their weight against it, scratching and clawing and beating their wings in a frantic attempt to get in.  

“Eddie!”

“Oh, shit!” 

The clock is ticking. Phase Two is now in effect, and it’s time for the pair of them to get the hell out of Dodge, but you’re not here, and you’re not answering. 

BOOM.

They’re swarming the trailer, scrambling all over the reinforced tin siding, and scratching at the windows. 

They have to get out of here. They’re going to die if they stay, but they can’t just leave you. Steve explicitly told them not to be heroes, but somebody has to do something. 

BOOM.

Dustin never should have brought you into this, he should have left you alone, kept you far removed from this place and everything that goes with it. You have no business in the Upsidedown, he has no business in the Upsidedown. What the hell does he think he’s doing here? He’s not a hero, he barely made it through the last three times this happened, with the Demogorgon, with D’art, the Mindflayer – he’s just a kid… then again, kids always make it out of horror movies, don’t they? 

BOOM. 

Then again, maybe not.

“What do we do?” Dustin yelps, flinching hard against the way the door bends inward ever so slightly before snapping back into shape, “—Eddie, what do we do?!”

BOOM. 

This time the sound comes from the other end of the trailer, from Eddie’s bedroom – the ceiling is shaking. 

Before Dustin can stop to consider why that is happening and what that means for them, Eddie is a blur, sprinting down the hall faster than Dustin has ever seen any one person move. 

He reaches the open door the moment the ceiling caves in.

Suddenly, there is a mess of leathery writhing bodies fountaining down into the room like water rushing from a burst pipe. He is vaguely aware of screaming as a flurry of wings and talons rear up in the room beyond.

They’re in the house. Dustin thinks, Jesus Christ, we’re gonna die down here…

Eddie reaches for the doorknob, and something reaches back, rearing up and knocking into him hard enough to send him sprawling backward. 

For a terrifying moment, Eddie stays down and Dustin stands frozen, watching with unbridled terror as he thrashes and writhes beneath the thing that has him pinned – a bat, easily the size of a bulldog — snapping and biting and doing everything in its power to make a meal out of him. 

Dustin hasn’t even realized he’s even moved before he watches his foot collide heavily with the bat. Its features cave in and squelch grossly around the toe of his sneaker before bouncing off and back into the room.

He has no idea how or when he crossed the room, but suddenly he’s got his hands in Eddie’s jacket and is trying to pull him back down the hall.

He can’t save you, wherever you are, but he can save Eddie — or at least he can try. 

Eddie surges forward out and grips the knob, whipping the door shut with a heavy slam before falling backward onto his ass, taking Dustin down with him.

For half a moment, it’s all either of them can do but sit there on the floor in stunned silence, gasping for air.

Dustin’s still got his hands fisted in Eddie’s jacket, holding him to the spot where he’s half pressed against him, leaning back over him where he landed. He’s a lot heavier than he looks.

“Holy shit.” Eddie grinds out between breaths, “Christ, that was fucking nuts — did you see that?”

Dustin nods, though only because he can’t breathe well enough yet to speak. 

When he fails to provide a verbal answer, Eddie twists around to look at him, eyes as wide as dinner plates and rolling in terror.

 “Are you okay? You good?”

Dustin can’t decide how to answer that — no, he is absolutely not okay, but he’s alive, which is more than he thinks he can say for the bat he just spiked into the far corner of Eddie’s bedroom.

He opens his mouth to answer but the sound dies in his throat when he notices the thick trickle of blood bubbling up from a deep gash in Eddie’s forehead, oozing down to collect and drip from the end of his nose.

It turns Dustin’s stomach. 

“You’re bleeding.” He gasps, more a general statement of gut-wrenching terror than anything else. 

Eddie’s brows inch toward one another, disturbing the wound between them. He reaches up with a shaking hand and he wipes at the bridge of his nose – his fingers come away stained crimson, and it leaves a hollowed-out look splashed across his features, the same one Dustin can feel gnawing at his insides. 

That thing went for his face … it tried to eat his goddamn face.   

BOOM.

The front door heaves under the until-then-forgotten duress of more bats, still trying to get at them, and wrenches them back into the moment. There’s no time to assess the gravity of the situation, just how well and truly fucked they before the bedroom door shudders – a violent response to the question before that sees Eddie scrambling backward an inch. 

Dustin doesn’t blame him. It’s well past time they got the hell out of here. 

All around them, the doors continue to rattle on their hinges – bedroom door, front door, and now the bonus of the side door, all bending and creaking, somehow miraculously keeping their shapes under the violent battery of the things desperately trying to get in – the things that want to eat them. 

Before Dustin realizes what’s happening, Eddie pulls him to his feet and back through the length of the trailer, and suddenly he’s standing bathed in a pool of golden light. 

He flinches and recoils as something long and cylindrical hits him in the face — thankfully it’s only the bedsheet rope. He realizes with a start that he’s standing below the gate, looking up into the relative safety of the real world just beyond. 

Yes, of course that’s where they should go, because that’s where the bats are normal sized and not inclined to eat faces, but suddenly there is the nagging press of the question: what are they going to do about the bats once they get up there? 

How are they going to stop them from following them through?

“Go on,” Eddie says quickly, wiping hopelessly at the blood coating his face, all he does is smear it, “Get up there.” 

Dustin just stands there, blinking back at him.

He’s frozen to the spot, unable for the life of him to make his legs move as he watches the blood bubble up from the wound in Eddie’s forehead and leak down into his eyebrow. 

That thing went for his face. Jesus Christ, it literally tried to bite his face off! Things like that are not supposed to happen to them. Other people get killed – Barb and Mews, Bob Newby, Billy Hargrove and all the people who were assimilated by the Mindflayer, but not them — they’re kids in a horror movie, they’re supposed to be safe!   

“Dustin–!” Eddie snaps, seizing him by the shoulders and shaking him, effectively cutting off the long tide of panicked blubbering Dustin hadn’t realized he’d devolved into, “Stop talking and climb the rope!” 

When he still doesn’t react, Eddie takes matters into his own hands and gets under him, boosting the boy on his shoulders with only the slightest grunting effort. 

One thing about Eddie is that he’s a lot stronger than he looks. 

Dustin seizes the rope and clings to it if only so he won’t fall flat on his face. 

“Get your ass up there, Henderson.” Eddie snaps from below, giving him a hard shove for good measure. 

It makes the rope swing and Dustin is half surprised when it doesn’t disrupt the gravitational rift and cause the whole thing to come falling through. 

It holds, because it has to, and Dustin climbs because there’s nothing else to do. 

Hand over fist, inching up as quickly as he can while the thrashing against the doors intensifies. 

He tells himself that this is all part of the plan, as terrible a plan as it suddenly seems. Stick to the plan. That’s what Steve said, no matter what, stick to the plan… and don’t get killed – Eddie added that little zinger out of what Dustin had assumed was fatalist humor, but right here at this moment, it’s the driving force to get him up that rope as fast as humanly possible. 

Through one side and out the other, he flops gracelessly to the squeaking mattress below and tucks immediately into a barrel roll, clearing the way for Eddie to come crashing down after him – he never arrives. 

The rope stands swaying — empty — and when he inches forward to look back through the gate, there Eddie remains, standing on the other side staring up at him – or is it down? He’s still not sure, not that it really matters, because they don’t have time for him to sit and work that out. 

“Let’s go – we gotta go!” 

Something solid and clunky comes flying up/down through the gate, narrowly missing Dustin’s head and scaring the hell out of him. For half a terrifying moment, he thinks it must be a Demobat, screaming in to herald his violent and imminent death. 

He lurches back as he follows the arc of the thing, then stands staring at it where it's landed — it takes him a moment too long to realize it’s the walkie-talkie. 

It takes an even longer moment for him to realize that he doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

“Eddie – what…?” Dustin begins, and then when he looks up, he sees the blade gripped in Eddie’s hand – his stomach heaves, “What are you doing?” the words barely manage to squeak their way out of Dustin’s throat — his tongue feels fat and clumsy in his mouth.

He knows exactly what Eddie is doing: he’s buying him a little more time, he’s going to get you from wherever the hell you’ve ended up — he’s making a big goddamn hero out of himself. 

In the Upsidedown, with the doors rattling on all sides, still bleeding from where one of the Demobats had just tried to make a meal out of him, Dustin watches helplessly as Eddie seizes the rope with his free hand.

“Eddie — don’t—!”

He slashes out and there is the quick sound of tearing fabric as the bed sheets split. For a brief moment, it hangs suspended, quivering as the dual gravity struggles to decide what to do. When they finally pull away from each other, torn ends trail like extended fingers, desperately reaching for one another. 

The rope drops over Dustin’s hand and down to the floor in a smooth, cotton pile, and he watches helplessly as Eddie gives him one final look before disappearing.

Dustin scrambles for something to do, somewhere to go. Somehow, he’s got to get back up there, but the predicament of how to ascend twelve feet into the ceiling without the use of a rope or ladder is an impossible one to solve.

He’s got to do something, he’s got to save Eddie — what was the point of the last week if Eddie gets himself killed down there? What was the point of any of this if he can’t save him? 

In a fit of desperation, Dustin seizes the walkie talking and jams the button with his thumb, screaming down the line for you — you’ll know what to do, you always know what to do — you’ll fix this. 

Dustin’s voice is frantic as he screams your name, and begs you to pick up — Eddie didn't follow him through the gate.

Eddie’s going to die down there. 

[girlbossingblogg]

i love girls. i love women. not in a specifically romantic way. i’ve just always really loved being surrounded by females and the girlhood per se. yes, misogyny it’s such a shit bitch and all that discrimination stuff sucks oh and also menstruation ugh and not being respected, BUT, at least i got my girls. at least i get their support. at least we’re gonna talk about these things and we’re gonna create an out-of-the-world spiritual connection with each other. and when we talk about love, we talk so highly that i even wonder if those guys my friends have fallen in love with REALLY deserve tons of verses of poems. and also being there for each other like support women who aren’t white and who are less privileged than us also makes me more happy ! because, they’ve told you a bullshit: it’s not true that when you have everything you’ll feel bad about giving something to those who don’t have it. i’ve never felt better than using my privileges to get someone (less fortunate than me) have privileges. it’s such a beautiful thing. and also, listening to songs written by women who would be prescribed lobotomy in the 900s ! and painting our nails baby pink and wine red and navy blue and salamandra green ! and dancing and loving and crying and doing the fuck we want. and still, doing it with grace. even when we fall, we do it with softness. i believe your body type doesn’t define how much classy you are. so whatever shape you’re in, it doesn’t matter when you’re surrounded by your girls. they make you feel heavy as important like university and light as a cloud in the sky. yea, fuck it off. i love being a girl, after all.