visforvengeance

[visforvengeance]

Where you been, baby?

Requested by: no one :)

Notes: and here’s stack!!!! So this can be read as a standalone or apart of a series. It’s kind of similar to the one for smoke but not exactly. This WILL be posted on AO3. Enjoy!

Warnings: mmm not smut exactly. But not sfw either ya know what I’m sayin. Ok. I didn’t necessarily feel any way about Mary as a character. She was just there tbh. But all love to Hailee, I love her down. There’s just some Mary slander here lmao

Smoke x reader

You could hear the music outside of the mill as clear as day. There had been bodies hanging around. Some dancing, some drinking, some…better left unsaid. You made your way to the entrance. You didn’t even get the option of waiting in line before Cornbread saw you and ushered you right on inside.

It looked just how you’d imagined inside. Warm lighting, joyous faces. It ignited something in you. Recognition. Reminiscence. Nostalgia. It had been a long, quiet time while the twins were gone. And, maybe that was for the better. But you couldn’t say you didn’t miss it.

As you were walking to the bar, you managed to lock eyes with one twin. Your twin, Stack. He had Mary hanging off of his arm, and he was mid-puff when he saw you. Mary had been too wrapped up in herself to notice that Stack had suddenly stopped paying attention to her and focused on you instead.

Still, you walked on until you reached it. Taking a seat beside the pair, ignoring Stack’s stare. You warmly greeted Annie,

“How ya doin', Annie?”

She beamed at you, pulling you over the bar to squeeze you into a hug. All of you had grown up close together, but you and Stack grew closer. You were each other’s first everything. And, because of that, you thought that meant it’d stay that way. But, no, it didn’t. You caught Stack with Mary one night, and it had been a cycle of heartbreak ever since then.

Elias obviously loved you more than her, more than anything. But with that realization came fear. The twins were on a warpath. And, he couldn’t have you there for it. He wouldn’t. So, he left it all. He knew it would hurt you. Hell, it even hurt him, too. But, it was for the best after all. Right?

“Lemme get a shot of whiskey, please.”

Annie began serving up your shot when you heard Mary speak up beside you.

“Well, look what the cat done dragged in.”

Annie tried to diffuse the situation because she knew how both of you could be. But, Stack just watched, intrigued. Everyone knew you didn’t start problems, but you sure as hell could finish them. And, Mary was always a problem.

“Now, Annie, wasn’t I just here minding my business?”

“Don’t y’all bring that mess in here. This is a celebratory night. Take it outside if y’all gon fight.”

You really hadn’t planned to fight. You were even willing to let it slide if Mary would just shut the hell up. But she never did know her place.

“No, Ms. Annie, it ain’t gon be no fighting tonight. I just came to congratulate the twins, give them a little warm welcome back home,”

You looked over to Stack, who still had his eyes only on you. He looked damn good, you’ll give him that. But, nothing more. He didn’t deserve to know just how much you missed him. And how much his leaving had affected you.

“Welcome home, baby. We missed you.”

Elias didn’t miss the wink you threw at him, nor did Mary.

“Oh, bitch, who do you think you walking in here like that?”

So foul-mouthed, that one. Almost like she was trying to compensate for something? Who knows. However, Stack wasn’t going to tolerate her disrespecting you. No matter how much she thinks he’s over you, that was never really the case.

It was always you. Only you. Why he had to go and fuck that up? He never fucking knew. But it’s just you.

While he shoved her out of the juke joint, you made your way to the dancefloor. Sammie had been playing on stage, and the whiskey had hit you harder and faster than you thought it would. You could feel the bass in your bones as the ground shook from the stomping and music.

You were in your own little world until you felt a body slide up against yours so perfectly you melded together. His warmth was what got you first. Next, the feeling of his hands all over you. Years of missing how they felt against your soft skin.

Then his scent circled around you. He smelled like smoke, alcohol, and the earth. It made you dizzy. He turned you around so you were facing him. Still so close together that you were breathing each other in. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this feeling.

“I really was only coming to say hi and welcome, you know.”

He wasn’t listening as his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking, desperately trying to eat and inhale you at the same time.

“You wasn’t even gonna tell me you was back here, huh?”

His hands gripped at the fat of your ass, pulling you into him. You could feel his erection against your stomach. Still kissing. Still sucking. Still trying to devour you piece by piece.

“Elias..”

He stopped, resting his head on your shoulder. Inhale. Exhale.

Softly, “I was scared to see ya.”

Stack didn’t usually talk about his feelings, at least not with anyone other than his brother or you. So, it was no surprise when you were met with the softer, more vulnerable side of him than usual. And, it’d been so long since he could really talk about his feelings. The ones he couldn’t share with his big brother.

“I was scared.”

“Which time? When you left or when you came back?”

“Both.”

That was the first time in a long time that he’d been honest with anyone other than himself.

Your hand caressed his cheek, like how you used to when he was laid up in your bed. You forced him to look at you; he’d been doing so all night, but now the ground floor was more interesting.

“What were you so afraid of, Elias?”

Man, he really didn’t want to answer that. That’s a whole new layer of vulnerability that he’d have to learn to break down. One that no one had seen, not even you.

“How was I gon keep you safe? I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. So I left.”

You wanted to be mad at him. Be fucking angry like you should be. But, you just couldn’t.

“So, what about now? You gon leave me high and dry after tonight?”

He had just gotten back into your life, and neither of you wanted him out of it again. Stack knew you missed him more than you were willing to admit, and he’d get on his knees and beg for you to give him another chance if that’s what it took.

Maybe this new version of the two of you could work out better than before. But, what if you don’t? Were you willing to go through that heartbreak again? You refused to be someone’s second choice again. Not even for him.

“If we gon do this again, I need to know you ain’t gon leave me again.”

Elias would not make the same mistake twice, no matter what. He just got you back, and he’d do whatever it took to keep his baby right here with him.

“I ain’t going nowhere without you this time, girl.”

Your eyes lingered on his for a minute. Despite their usual hard exterior, the twins wore their emotions on their sleeves. It was never outright noticeable. But when Smoke was angry, there’d be a permanent scowl on his face. When Stack was sad, it was almost like he wasn’t connected with reality. Like he was detached.

What you saw on his face now was just truth. The man made promises, and he didn’t always keep them. But tonight, he’d decided that loving you how you should’ve been loved was something he’d do forever. Even on his last day on earth.

Your lips locked with each other, slow and passionate. There was curiosity, too. A bitter trace of sadness. But, a whole lotta want and need. Stack had decided from that moment on, regardless of what life threw at him, he was not going to suffer it through with you by his side.

[visforvengeance]

Where did you sleep last night?

Requested by: no one :)

Notes: hey y’all lmao. Sinners brought me out of retirement like I knew it would. I did post this on AO3 if you’ve already read it lmao so please don’t come at me. Anyway I need Michael in a room in which there are no others…or you could all watch I don’t give a shit🫦. I do have one for stack in the works!! Coming very soon xx

Warnings: cursing ofc, sex. I think that’s it. My sympathies if I didn’t get everything. But as always read at your own risk!!

Stack x reader

You heard him before you saw him, Stack. Always loud, always smooth talking. The twins were back in the Delta, and you hadn’t heard not one word about it. You’d think it’d get back to you considering the history between you and Smoke before he left…and when he left.

You turned the corner to where the train was, and there he stood in all his glory. He was almost still the same boy from before, but colder. You knew of all the things those boys did because you were right there beside them, as much as they tried to protect you from it. Yours and Mary’s mama had been kind enough to raise them up after theirs died. Raised them with their own daughters, like their own sons.

But, something happened, and then your first kiss was with Smoke in the dead of the night. And then more happened later on. There had been just too much between you, but he still up and left anyway.

You stomped over to him angrily.

“Where’s that sorry ass brother of yours?”

He turned to you, not surprised at all to see you.

“Well, hello to you. ‘Long time no see! How have you been?’

‘Great, thank you for asking.’”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled him into a much-needed hug. You enjoyed his embrace for a minute, rubbing his back. Then, you whispered,

“I missed your dumb ass.”

He chuckled as he pulled away

He took a long, hard look at you, really seeing you after all these years. You’re a grown woman now, not some annoying ass little girl that his brother used to chase after when they were younger. He missed you. And he knows for sure that his brother does too. Smoke had been with countless women during his time in Chicago, no doubt. But none of them compares to you.

“He’s at our new spot,” gold teeth and pearly whites on display. The boys always did have such beautiful smiles.

“Whatchu talkin’ about, boy?”

“You know that old sawmill down by the way,” you nodded

“Consider it under new management. Club Juke is now open.”

You didn’t know whether to be proud or slap that stupid ass smile off of his face. Ten years, you ain’t seen or heard not a word from these motherfuckers and now they’re here opening a juke joint?

You shook your head and removed yourself from Stack’s arms, stomping to your car. Mary had accompanied him with a different version of the same argument. Stack knew that his brother was in for it with how hot the fire in your eyes burned. You were hot. Hotter than this Mississippi heat, hotter than the devil’s wrath.

You walked inside of the old, rundown building. They’d already begun setting up, gathering the old crew. The smell of Annie’s fried catfish filled the place. Sammie was on stage, strumming his guitar lazily. Grace talked with Annie while she cooked.

It almost felt like home again. Almost.

Smoke walked out of the office to see a ghost in the shape of you standing at the entrance of his establishment. Smoke was always stoic, perfectly motionless. Until he saw you. No, he couldn’t let his resolve crumble completely when he saw you. But, he did let you see the softness only a select few could muster in the only way he knew how.

His eyes. Always his eyes. Emotions swirling around like a tornado. He knew how you felt after he left; he studied you well enough to expect it. But was he prepared to face his consequences? A man who stood so tall, so fearless. Even in the face of death, he stoically stood his ground.

But seeing you here right now had him scared to breathe. Luckily, no one paid attention to the two of you. They knew better. You walked up to him. No words were spoken between the two of you, but the looks on your faces said a lot.

You walked past him and into the back room, and he followed closely behind. When the two of you were alone, you spoke up.

“Ten years. No goodbye. No letters. Nothing. Then I see Stack hanging by the train with Slim. Come to find out, you boys done opened yourselves up a juke joint.”

Silence again, this time he wasn’t looking at you.

“No hello. No ‘I missed you’. When was you gon come see me, Elijah?”

You were losing your cool. How could he just stand there?

“Could you fucking say something?” You never yelled. Loud and boisterous, of course. But, damn it you never yelled. He didn’t flinch, though. He finally looked at you.

“What the fuck do I look like coming to you after I just shot my own damn daddy? Hmm?” He got in your face, he towered over you. But that didn’t scare you. He never did, no matter how frightening or threatening he tried to be. It never worked on you, and it will not now.

“How was you gon help us? Cry to ya mama? Wait. I know. You was gon get that sheriff granddaddy of yours, huh?” He laughed. He didn’t know what else to do so he fucking laughed.

“That’s not fair, and you know it. I would’ve helped you the best way I could. But, you shut me out and made that decision for me!”

Yes, you were young. You absolutely should not have been involved in the shit that you were. But you were in love. And so was he. Still, you both are. So, what do two fucking idiots do when they’re in love? They hold onto each other as tightly as fate will allow.

“Smoke, you never did give me the benefit of the doubt. Why do you think no one came looking for you two for all those years? Even now? With the case being unsolved?”

There is no statute of limitations on murder after all..

“But, even after all of that. I didn’t deserve to know that you were leaving?”

All of this fucking silence. You couldn’t stand it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tightly. He wasted no time wrapping himself back around you. You held each other so close and tightly, you’d think you were killing each other.

You stayed that way until the obvious question couldn’t be ignored anymore.

“Why you back here? Now of all times?”

Too much shit had happened in the time that he was gone. Clearly none of it was enough to bring him back.

“Missed it. We wanted something of our own and thought home would be the best place to do it,” he was avoiding looking at you. He did that when there was something he didn’t want to say to you. It was almost shocking to see him still so childlike in this moment.

“Elijah Moore, you hated this place with every fiber of your being. Why are you here?”

It was weird hearing his own name. He’d been Smoke for so long, Elijah almost felt like a stranger to him. But, hearing you say it made him remember exactly who Elijah Moore was. And, he was yours.

“I love you too much.”

Now he was finally looking at you. Still so vulnerable and childlike. For such a short sentence, it was beyond loaded. Somehow, you understood everything Smoke couldn’t express to you because he didn’t know how.

You couldn’t help but kiss him. It was messy, rough, all teeth and bite. His hands roamed all over your body, squeezing and gripping at whatever he could like a starving man. A starved man he was. He turned you around and pressed you against the desk.

“I missed you too much,”

His lips left kisses on your neck and a haze in your brain. You missed him, too, more than anything. You turned and pushed him back into the chair that was behind him.

“You think you gon come back after all these years fuck me like it’s nothing?” You moved to straddle his waist, pulling him into another heated kiss. His hands gripped at the fat of your ass and thighs, kneading them like dough.

He pressed you into him further, making you grind against his cock, causing the both of you to moan. He didn’t intend for you to keep grinding, though. “I’m a big girl now, Smoke. Let me show ya.”

Somehow, the two of you ended up on the floor with your clothes thrown about. You were still on top of him. Lips kissing over every scar and mark that littered Elijah’s body.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you mumbled against his skin. You sat up straight to look at him.

“Never did a day go by when I didn’t think of you. I love.” Then, you began moving your hips. You hadn’t had sex with him in 10 years, but it was even better than before. You traded feeling the pain of splinters in your knees for the warming pain of Smoke’s cock splitting you open.

Smoke was quiet, aside from the occasional groan he let out. His eyes raked over your body. He watched the way your breasts bounced with your movement. They were bigger, not that he minded either way. Your body was softer than before, too. More to grab on to, more to hold on to, more to love.

None of the girls he’d been with (not that there were very many. They were not you and it started to piss him off eventually) compared to you in the slightest. They didn’t smell or taste like you. Definitely didn’t feel as good as you.

Now he felt like he finally knew what was missing. He’d been chasing something he’d left for 10 years.

The eye contact between you two had not wavered the entire time you’d been riding him. There was still so much that neither of you had said, but in this moment, you understood everything. He let you see the vulnerability, lust, regret, the ache he’d had the moment he left you and how it had stayed with him until he was back with you again.

You nodded to him, telling him that it was ok. It was ok to just feel in this moment with you. In which he did. He’d been holding back on cumming in you for both of your sakes and his masculinity. But that thought had passed as he released deep inside of you.

Still hard, he flipped the two of you over in missionary. Now, it was his turn to focus on your pleasure. He pounded into you heavy and rough, and you took it, like you always did. Between your moans, the skin slapping, the fucking wet sounds your pussy made. It was safe to say that you were NOT quiet. But the music that was being played and the overcrowding voices silenced you splendidly.

Once again, the two of you were locking eyes. Him fucking you knocked the breath out of you completely, but this was what you wanted. And needed. Because Elijah was back. And, maybe what the two of you had could continue. And, it goes well. Or it doesn’t. Neither of you fucking cared. Because at that moment, it was just the two of you again.

He wasn’t leaving you again. Not even through the hellish nights you’re bound to encounter.

[visforvengeance]

pepsi cola

requested by: abbbbsolutely no one lmao

notes: hey y'all. so this has been sitting in my docs since challengers came out and I just finished like at 5 am this morning. i have 2 or 3 other wips for challengers too lmao. but pls absolutely no hate to tashi. i love mean women ok ok.

warnings: alla them. cursing, significant age gap, cheating, double penetration, pleasedontmakemeincludeeverynastythingiwrote, just please read at your own risk!!!

song

you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head for the 6th time this class period. if you didn’t need this course to graduate, you wouldn’t be here. there was 20 minutes left until you could leave and go practice with your incredibly attractive tennis coaches, the famous art donaldson and patrick zweig. your father had been a big fan of tennis, even partaking in a few lessons in high school. so, when he found out that you’d be playing in college, he was elated. 

as tennis was a big part of your life, there’s no way you didn’t know about art, patrick, and tashi. you’d been to a few of their games, even met them once. how you got two of the best tennis players in the country as your fucking tennis coaches bewildered you. they’d been teaching since your freshman year of college. let them tell it, they found you through one of your games, saw the potential you had, and wanted to teach you how to be the best that they knew you could be. 

that was only the partial truth, though. they did find you through your games, but to be honest, they didn’t really give a fuck about how well you played. they were really just two pervy old men who happened to stumble across you. something about you made them want you. they had to have you. art battled with his attraction towards you, he was a family man. and, old enough to be your father. but, he couldn’t help himself when he watched the way your tennis skirt flew up in the wind. some days you’d be wearing shorts and other days you weren’t. either way, he loved seeing the plumpness of your ass. 

patrick, on the other hand, fully embraced it. he nearly came from the feeling of your ass pressed against him while he was “fixing” your form. it took everything in him not to start rutting against you right then and there. he didn’t try to hide the fact that he ogled the way your tits bounced with every movement. don’t even get him started on your grunts. sometimes, he wondered how you’d react if you knew that he thought about them while he fisted his cock at night. 

you weren’t allowed to have a boyfriend. not that you cared for boys anyway. not the ones at your school, at least. when your mom asked if anyone had caught your interest yet, you couldn’t say that it was your hot 40-something-year-old coaches who interested you. certainly not that one is married and a father to a beautiful little girl. and the other is a washed-up, nymphomaniac trust fund baby. so, you’d say no. and, she’d smile and tell you how important it was to focus on school. but how could you focus when you thought about being fire and ice’s personal cum dumpster all the time?

when your professor announced that class was over, you all but rushed to your dorm. you threw your things down, rushing to get ready for your lesson. you showered with your good body wash and your cocoa butter body oil. did your light skincare, styled your hair, and doused yourself in vanilla perfume. you checked yourself in the mirror, making sure that your lip combination was perfect. you always found yourself wanting to look the very best for your men. when you were satisfied, you shot art a text letting him know that you were on your way. 

when art received your text, he immediately told patrick. they had been debating on if they should make their attraction known to you. patrick, of course, was all for it. he had been basically trying to fuck you since he laid eyes on you. but, art wanted to be respectful of all parties involved. “we can’t just spring this on her, you know that, right?” art looked over to his already drooling best friend, hitting his leg to get his attention. 

patrick smirked at art’s nervousness, he’d always been shy when it came to beautiful fucking women. he thought back to when they were both trying to pursue tashi. he, as always, was more forward with her. however, art, the respectable gentleman he is, took his sweet time. until tashi had chosen patrick over him, and at first he was a bit heartbroken. then, he realized that just because they were dating that didn’t mean he couldn’t have his turn with her. patrick never minded sharing, not if it was with art. 

they shared clothes and food. and, women. and, sexual fantasies. and, their attraction for one another. there had always been some kind of connection between them. it wasn’t strictly platonic or romantic. it just was. and, it’s still that way 20 years later. art was more accepting of it, he embraced it without fear. but, patrick had a hard time doing either of those things. it wasn’t because he was embarrassed, he could never be embarrassed of art. but, no one was there to teach him about bisexuality. it was more taboo than even being gay in his household. the idea wasn’t even a thing until he met art. 

he’d dealt with internalized homophobia, but never felt shame when he was with his best friend. it confused him, but it wasn’t something he’d rather talk about right now. instead, he’d rather talk about you and the way your tennis dress hugged your body. your smell filled the space before you were even standing before him. he stood to pull you into a hug. he fought the urge to run his hands along your sides, massaging and caressing them. 

art was more stoic. he hid his emotions very well. you could never tell if he was displeased with your technique, not even from his tone of voice. patrick didn’t let his emotions slip but he was a little more direct. you’d know if he was slightly disappointed with how you were playing that day. but, that didn’t mean art wasn’t creaming his pants at just how fucking good you looked and smelled. he could just eat you up. 

you paused by the patio door, turning to look at the two men. you looked between them, feeling a tad bit self-conscious at their gaze upon you. your last session didn’t go too well. although, it wasn’t your fault, you were on the receiving end of their brutality. you had overheard them talking while you all were taking a break. tashi had said something to art that he didn’t like again. 

he said that he was tired of the way she treated him. like she was punishing him for retiring, still. you heard him question why they were still even together. if all of this were true then you were questioning why too. but, being on the receiving end of art’s anger excited you a bit. he was dominating. and hard. condescending, not mean. he talked to you like a father would if they were disciplining their child. calm and calculating, art donaldson was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

patrick’s anger was more explosive. antagonistic. he pushed your buttons, made you want to push and shove him. slap him, take all of your frustrations out on him because he lived for that shit. he was a spoiled brat who threw tantrums when your and art’s attention wasn’t on him. patrick zweig brought out one’s worst inhibitions. they really lived up to their names. 

art looked at you with hard eyes, like he was analyzing you. “we have to work on your backhand,” his voice was soft. slightly teasing and alluring, a stark contrast from how he watched you. like he was judging. he wasn’t judging, though. he could never judge his pretty girl. 

patrick watched the interaction. he always watched how art interacted with you. it made him hard thinking about how he was showing his true nature now. yes, arthur can be shy and awkward at times. but, mostly that was a facade. and he has changed. he had gone through too much shit to still be that soft and caring boy from college. whatever revelation art had, patrick was so into it.

you began to pout, shifting your weight to your other leg. “but mr. zweig said that it was perfect.” patrick lied, sue him. he just wanted an excuse to get up close and personal with you. art looked at patrick, who was smirking behind you. you turned to look at the brunette man, frowning at the smirk he wore. fucking patrick. “yes, and patrick isn’t a famous tennis player with an even more famous tennis player as his wife. so.” he stood in front of you. he was so close that you could see the blues and brown in his eyes. 

he stood over you, strong and intimidating. he had his hands behind his back as he bent forward. his lips caressed the shell of your ear as he spoke, “who do you think you should listen to, doll?” your breath hitched at the nickname. usually with art, he’d call you by your name. you didn’t know what changed this time. his eyes moved to patrick who watched from afar. that fucking smirk plastered on his face. 

patrick could see the chill bumps sweep across your skin. maybe he could join in on the fun too. he moved so he was behind you, closer than art was to you. you could feel the girth of his semi-hard cock grazing your back. he looked up at art who was already looking at him. “why’d you lie to her?” art asked. patrick shrugged, allowing his fingers to dance across your hipbone. “she was having a bad day. that fucking professor failed her. i wanted to make her feel better. is that a crime?” 

the air surrounding you was a mix of art and patrick’s scent and your own. it was intoxicating to say the least. but you crossed your arms, turning to face patrick, who looked down at you with that ridiculously handsome face of his. and, that damn smirk. “i’m not some child, you know? you can tell me when i’m doing bad,” they couldn’t take you seriously with that adorable pout on your lips. 

patrick had the audacity to chuckle. without a word, he walked over to the sliding door, leaning against the frame while art talked. “except you are. you throw a tantrum when you don’t get your way, you have never worked a day in your life, you’re 21 and you have people buying you whatever you want.” he laughed softly as he shook his head. “lily doesn’t even act this way.”

you scoffed looking up at him. “i thought you liked playing sugar daddy, though. that wrangler out there sure didn’t come from my father.” it was art who was smirking now. he liked that you were sassy. a little narcissistic, too. he wished he could wipe that fucking smile off of your face. “we won’t be working on your backhand today. instead, you’ll be watching patrick and i, since you can’t fucking play well enough.” you whimpered at that, your pout had made its way back onto your face. “you’re so mean, art.” 

you turned away from him, making your way towards patrick. “yeah, art. that was kinda mean. you ok, pretty baby?” he was mocking you, the bastard. patrick was usually the nicer one, even if there was some underlying reason. art was the more ‘tough love’ kind of guy. he’d chastise and discipline you. and that’s when you’d run to patrick and he’d kiss all of your booboos and comfort you like the spoiled princess you were. 

you rolled your eyes as you pushed patrick away and opened the patio door. you heard him giggle before you set your things down and took a seat alongside the court. truthfully, you loved watching them play. the intensity of it was addicting. whatever bad history they had came to light when they played each other. but, the sexual tension was prominent too. it was enigmatic. no one could reach such intensity like art and patrick. 

it turned you on greatly to see it. their grunts and your already present attraction made you undeniably wet. uncomfortably so. you’d end up showering at art’s place, using the excuse of not wanting to be sticky and sweaty before you went back home. you feared today would be no different. 

you gave them your undivided attention as you watched them. it was unusually hot in new york today, you could visibly see the beads of sweat dripping off of the two men. you wished it was dripping on you instead. the look of seriousness etched onto art’s face was almost enough to make you clutch your pearls. but, it made you clench your legs instead. patrick was less serious. he’d been less serious about tennis since breaking up with tashi and since he’d retired also. 

you learned nothing as art talked to you while he played. you were hardly even registering that he was talking. you must’ve looked like a fool with your legs crossed so tightly over each other, aching for some kind of release that your thighs just couldn’t do justice. you knew what you needed. you knew exactly what it was. you needed art and patrick, desperately so. 

you couldn’t rely on the boys at school to fuck you the way you knew patrick and art could. even when you spent countless nights trying to please yourself, it never satisfied you. 

they talked amongst themselves as they took a break. you tried distracting yourself with your phone while they did so. 

“you know she’s turned on, right?” patrick knew because he observed you. he studied everything you did. how sometimes you twitch when you’re too relaxed. or the very particular brand of lipgloss you use. he knew you when you were anxious and he knew when you were ovulating (because you refuse to be alone with them in fear of not being able to control yourself). art paid attention to you too, but not as much as patrick. 

art could sense that something was bothering you but he didn’t know what. but, the more he looked on he could see your leg bouncing. how you tried to control it by crossing your other leg over it, your obvious avoidance and sudden interest in your phone. 

art finally saw that you wanted them as much as they wanted you. he’d spent so much time battling with his morals for nothing. he didn’t want to wait longer if this is how you were acting. he walked over to you, taking a seat next to you with patrick following behind him. 

you could feel their heat radiating off of them. you were too distracted to be annoyed by it. more focused on the fact that they were caging you in between them. and, then you felt the skin of art’s thigh touching yours. patrick’s too. they were trying to intimidate you and it was working. you listened as they rambled aimlessly about how hot it was as if they weren’t practically on top of you with how close they were. 

then, you felt patrick’s hand on your inner thigh. he was rubbing small circles into the smooth skin. his fingers moved up and up until they felt the fabric of your underwear. patrick was nearly shocked at the dampness of the fabric. he hadn’t expected you to be this wet just from watching them play. but he continued with rubbing small circles, just into your clit now. and, his eyes locked with art’s. they were silently communicating. the looks on their faces said,

“dude?” (art)

“dude.” (patrick)

or however men communicate, but that’s what you assumed they were saying anyway. then suddenly all of their attention was back on you. they only ever dreamed of having you the way they do now, with your legs spread and your hips stuttering against patrick’s arm as you try not to cum. it reminded them of that one time at stanford with tashi. except, you weren’t ashamed to want them both. tashi wanted to maintain her reputation as the good girl of tennis. but you?

you had no reputation to maintain. not like tashi did. you weren’t there yet. but, when the time came for you to shine like the slut star you are, you’d have art and patrick to look out for you. they knew the ins and outs of the tennis world and they knew how to make sure that no one would ever find out how you let them spitroast you.

until then, though, patrick and art will fuck you right here in art’s tennis court. patrick had slipped his fingers inside of your underwear by now. he’s fucked tons and tons of girls in his lifetime, but none of them came close to the wetness that spilled out of you. he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself when it came time to stick his dick in you. 

he carried on playing with your clit until your pushed his arm away from the oversensitivity of your orgasm. now, you sat wet and sticky between two incredibly hard men. if only your father could see you now. 

art removed your drenched panties so that he and art could take a look at the pretty little mess between your legs. and they were in awe. something about seeing art on his knees before you made you clench around nothing. you could’ve sworn you heard a moan come from the stoic man, but your ears are still ringing so you’re not too sure. 

he leaned forward and ran his tongue from bottom to top, collecting his juices on your tongue. this time you were sure you heard a groan coming from art. the taste of you drove art crazy. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking you in place, and went to town. he did completely disregard that patrick had already made you cum because he stopped caring about your well-being the moment he got his mouth on you. 

this was for him. art ate your pussy for his sake. you cumming from it was just a bonus. so, he lapped at your clit like a madman. licking and slurping and then tongue fucking, all of it was for his enjoyment. but, he did enjoy the way your legs wrapped around his head as you practically humped his face. he encouraged it. he wasn’t entirely selfish. 

patrick sat beside you still but this time with his dick in his hand. he jerked himself off as he watched patrick eat you out. your moans had become louder now, uncaring of who heard. somewhere in your daze, you managed to wrap your hand around patrick. his eyes traveled up your body until they met yours and you watched each other while he moved both of your hands up and down his cock. the sight of the other added on to the pleasure you both were receiving. 

it wasn’t long before you were both cumming. the warmth of patrick’s cum spreading over your hand triggered your second orgasm. art allowed you to take control while you rode out your high on his tongue, pressing his face into your pussy. patrick watched you like his cum off of your hand with lidded eyes and whimpered at the sight. and, he was hard again. just like that. 

the way you managed to make them feel like horny teenagers again blew their minds. they did fuck other people during your mentorship with them. but, no one made them feel like you were making them feel, rock hard and each ready to pump you full of their cum. 

you hadn’t realized that art came while eating you out until you looked down and saw the wet spot on his shorts. it was your turn to whimper at the sight before you now. after the three of you had shared your glances of realization, there was a rush to get all of your clothes of off. you tried your best on wobbly legs after two orgasms, but you managed to get it done. then, immediately you were all a mess of body parts. all hands and lips were one each other. the three-way kissing quickly turned into two as you removed yourself from the pair. you sat back and marveled at the two men while they tongued each other down like no tomorrow. 

then your hands were on each of their cocks, jerking them off. they still hadn’t realized they were kissing each other until one felt a pair of lips on their neck, placing soft kisses alongside it. patrick pulled away when he realized he was kissing art. then art looked at you at patrick looked at art and you looked back and forth between the two, smiling. still jerking them off, you giggled. “what? like you haven’t done it before?”

you knew something happened between the two men when they were younger. but, they never specified. so you used your imagination. 

your hands moved to caress their faces. you kissed both of them each time while pulling them closer and closer until all three of you were kissing again. your lips moved in sync with the others until they broke away and were both leaving kisses along your neck. their hands squished and squeezed each of your breasts, massaging your nipples. you moaned while they each left love bites on your neck. 

you could feel their precum dripping down your body, you needed to have them inside of you one way or another and they wanted it just as much as you. they helped you onto your hands and knees. one in front and one behind you. patrick lined up with your entrance. you could feel him entering you, slowly at first, then he pulls out. almost fully, and bullies himself back in. not gently but not too rough either. you were well prepared to receive it either way. art allowed patrick to build up a rhythm before he slid himself into the warmth of your mouth. he bottomed out until his cock was well in your throat. 

there were so many noises, one would say it was straight out of porn. the wetness and skin slapping of patrick fucking you from behind. and that ‘schlick!’ sound and slurping as you deepthroating art. and the moaning, too. you were being spit-roasted by two men 20 years older on their not-so-hidden tennis court. it may as well be a porn. 

you could hear them talking about how good you felt and all you could do was moan. patrick had such a grip on you hips, and art held onto your ponytail while he fucked your face. you were so turned on by all of it, you started to cream all over patrick’s cock. and then once his fingers found your clit again, you were squirting around it. your clenching around patrick uncontrollably made him cum. he fucked you until he had nothing left to give. art held you down while he came deep inside your throat. “goood girl,” he moaned as you swallowed all of his cum. 

you hadn’t expected to be fucking your coaches today. but, you’re glad you finally got to experience your true dream. 

[visforvengeance]

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. rafe cameron x sex addict!reader 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

for my upcoming series: all american sinners

blurb when a coke addict and a sex addict falls in love; what could go wrong? spoiler alert: everything.

note: this will be my next project after i finish play fake ᰔᩚ

[visforvengeance]

Rafe x Reader

POV: Any minor inconvenience for her:

[visforvengeance]

so they would know that it was me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Notes: okokok. So this was heavily inspired by The Diner from Billie Eilish's new album, hit me hard and soft. If you've heard this song, doesn't it make you think about our fave hothead? I tried to do the Instagram caption thing but uhhh yeah. I wrote this in 3 hours and I went batshit insane writing it. I wonder if you pinpoint when I went fucking berserk. but anyway. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: boy where do i start. ok. p in v, cursing as always, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, suicide (mentioned), canon typical violence, biting/bruising, just reader and rafe being freak nasty.

song

Rafe watched while you danced with your friends. It was almost like you were dancing only for him, beckoning him to come closer. He tuned out Top and Kelce, he didn’t care for their conversation. Not when you were near. You danced so freely and without care, and it was because of him. 

Everyone in the OBX knew you were his and his only. From the moment you two were kids, Rafe had always…protected you. Meaning he beat the ever-loving shit out of any boy who looked your way. And, you were none the wiser. You weren’t aware of his predatory behavior. So, when he’d have you sitting in his lap all the time or just casually made you blow him when you’ve been bad, it never occurred to you that this wasn’t normal best friend behavior. You rather liked when he called you baby or how he let you kiss him nasty when you were bored (which was quite often). But, there were still some guys who thought Rafe wouldn’t be on their ass if he even thought they wanted you. Yeah, you were only his and there’s no getting around that.

He watched as some drunk asshole made their way over to you, rudely pushing away your friends and cornering you. They stood around looking for Rafe as he made sure they knew the drill, which was to look for him immediately in these situations. If he wasn’t already aware, that is. Which was rare, as rare as other guys getting this close to you. Rafe had molded you into his perfect girl over the years, shaped you so that you only needed him. If you wanted something, you’d call on Rafe to get it for you. He’s your chauffeur, your atm, your noncommittal boyfriend, your everything. So, when you realized it wasn’t Rafe grabbing on your waist, you began to panic. You tried pushing the guy away while searching for Rafe but he wouldn’t budge. 

Then, suddenly this 6’2 shadow cast over both of you. Rafe had an unnervingly calm expression on his face. He politely tapped the man on his shoulder, before knocking him on his ass. He settled on top of him landing punch after punch on the man’s face. His face and shirt splattered with his blood. The dude had no chance and if you didn’t get Rafe off of him soon, he’d kill him. 

“Rafe,”

Then, he stopped. Abruptly. Instantly. When he looked over to you, it wasn’t fear that he saw. But, anger. “Baby,” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before you cut him off. 

“Home. Now.”

He followed behind you like a lost puppy, leaving the crowd to deal with the aftermath. You never saw Rafe handle these situations. You never saw him in this light. You knew he was not to be fucked with, though. Of course, you knew your boy had a temper. You weren’t that oblivious. But, you didn’t know that he could get like this. The drive to his house was silent. You sat in his passenger seat (which has your name stitched into it) with your arms crossed, head straight, and fire in your eyes. Rafe had always managed to dodge your anger, but not tonight. 

He was slowly starting to get more and more irritated, though. Every time he looked at your face, he’d only be met with your immaculate side profile. You even moved your leg away from his hand when he tried to rest it there. He knew it wasn’t because of the blood that had dried on his hands, you were never bothered by that but, it was because of his actions. His failure to maintain his composure. 

Before you two were able to reach his neighborhood, blue and red lights flashed behind you. Rafe cursed himself as he looked through the rearview mirror. How the fuck was he going to explain the blood that was on him? He hurriedly tried to clean the blood off of him as he changed his shirt. He managed to make himself look at least halfway decent before the cop arrived at his window, knocking lightly. 

Usually, because of who Rafe’s father was, he only received a slap on the wrist. But, not in this situation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and get away this time. You rolled your eyes as you listened to him lie through his teeth. He was very charming, you’d give him that. He charmed this female officer right out of being arrested and being sent to prison for aggravated assault. 

You scoffed at the audacity of her to ask for his number and him actually giving it to her. She couldn’t have been much older than the two of you, maybe 25. Baby-faced and fresh out of the academy. You laughed bitterly as he watched her walk back to her patrol car. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Rafe.” His head snapped in your direction, those were the first words you had said to him in the entire 30 minutes he’d been driving. 

Would it be insane of him to assume that you were jealous? Would it be absolutely fucking psychotic if he said that it turned him on to see you so angry and jealous? He smirked softly as he resumed driving. 

You slammed his truck door shut. You didn’t care if he’d get mad about it. You stomped to his front door, impatiently rushing him to open it. He shook his head as he laughed at your brattiness. He loved when you acted like a spoiled child for him. You knew he never had the intention of pursuing that girl, but something in you couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

He took his time opening the door, relishing in the moment before he had to hear your annoying yapping. When the moment was right, he’d know the perfect way to shut you up. He’d argue with you just for the hell of it, then he’d guilt trip you and tell you something like; ‘you’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Ok?’ And, then you’ll find him between your legs, delirious and begging that you forgive him. 

When you made it to his bedroom, you wasted no time ripping into him. First, about the fight he started, and then about giving that cop his number. But, he only stood there with that stupid fucking smirk. “So, you’re not going to say anything? Just stand there smirking?”

He closed the gap between the two of you. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face, if you weren’t so pissed, you’d be on your knees with him looking at you the way he was. He brought his hand up enough to grip your chin, softly at first. “You can’t be mad at me about two different things, baby, pick your battles carefully.” By the end of his statement, his grip had gotten harsher. 

Who the fuck does he think he is? You wrapped your hand around his forearm, caressing it. But, then he felt the growing sting of your nails digging into his flesh. “Aggravated assault in the first degree, babe? That’s a $250,000 bond. Do you think your daddy can afford that? Or will I have to get my daddy’s money to bail you out?” You looked up at him with doe eyes. The silence between you both appeared again. The only sounds heard in his bedroom were his harsh breaths as he tried to remain calm. But, you were really fucking pushing it. 

You forced his hand away and plopped down on his bed. “I just think that you shouldn’t have done that, Rafey.” You pouted as you watched him get down on his knees before you. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he placed his hands on the back of your knees, massaging up to your thighs while pushing his way between them. 

“First off, I am your daddy, babe. And, second, you know how I get when guys try to push up on my girl. Especially when I know how scared you get when it’s not me,” he said while leaving kisses on your neck and chest. 

You scoffed, “I don’t get scared. Just slightly uncomfortable.” You let your hand grasp the back of his neck, fingers dancing softly along the lines of his buzzcut. “Same thing, darlin'. When you’re not happy, that’s when I have a problem. I can’t have my best girl out here feeling nothing but happiness, you get what I’m saying?” He kissed his way up to your chin before pulling away and looking deeply into your eyes. 

“Yeah, daddy, I know. Just don’t want you to go to jail, is all.” You pecked his lips softly. He nodded before kissing you meaningfully. “I’ll be careful next time, huh? That what you want me to say?” You nodded your head as best as you could with your jaw in his grip. You stared back into his eyes as your cheeks spilled between his fingers, and your lips puckered up slightly. It made his dick hard. 

He kissed you again, sloppy this time. The smacking of your lips and the moans that escaped both of you filled the room. He pushed you back on his bed while trailing kisses down your body. While doing so, he slid your panties down, tossing them somewhere behind him. He didn’t care. He didn’t bother riding you of the rest of your clothes just yet. Just hiking up your skirt and leaning back to admire the view. You sat up on your elbows, breathing heavily. You hiked one of your legs up, giving him a better view. “Come on, baby, don’t be a tease.” You were practically begging him to taste you. And, who was he to deny his baby?

He chuckled, “alright, princess. Calm it down.” He watched as you clenched from the nickname. It was taking everything in him not to eat you until you were begging him to stop. Even then, he didn’t know if he had that kind of control. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to your heat. Before delving in, he inhaled your scent. You could’ve sworn you saw the white of his eyes while they rolled to the back of his head, but you were quivering with excitement. Too out of it to try and comprehend that. 

He placed your leg over his shoulder and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He placed one long lick from your clit to your entrance, he couldn’t help himself as he let out a moan at the taste of you. Rafe didn’t think he was the kind of guy to be so affected by a woman, of any kind. But, he’d let you slut him out whenever you pleased. Whatever you wanted, he never said no. Not to his baby. 

He would gladly drop to his knees for you. There’d even be times when he’d be the one asking for your permission to taste you. And, just like him, you never said no. 

He began teasing you by repeatedly placing kisses along your clit, when he noticed your whines he fucking laughed. “Rafe, quit it.” You sounded like an intolerant child but that’s what he liked about you. “Ok, ok, baby. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sorry at all. 

He wrapped his lips around it while slowly sliding a finger into you. Your hips jerked at the intrusion but soon relaxed. He added another finger, but at this point, you weren’t sure who was moaning more, you or him. You were silently thanking God that his family was out on vacation as neither of you were exactly quiet. If anyone had heard, they could easily guess what was going on. 

Rafe pumped his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside of you, while his tongue worked on your clit. He didn’t care that he could hardly breathe as you pressed his face into you, he’d die happily this way. 

Your moans grew louder while your back arched off of the bed. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, easing it inside you with little resistance. His nose bumped against your clit just right as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you flush against him. You held the sheets tightly in your grip, your moans had turned into screams which then turned into nothingness. The sound had simply ceased as you began to clench around his tongue. 

Rafe humped the frame of his bed as he came in his pants. He was moaning into your pussy like a madman. He’d most certainly be ashamed about this later but he thinks this was one of the most amazing orgasms he’s had with you. But, he’s not done with you yet. He had to have you, all of you. He’d kill himself if he didn’t, swears it on his soul. 

When he untangled himself from you, the bottom half of his face was left glistening in the moonlight. He breathed heavily as he started to remove his and your clothing. Both of you were naked, eyes roaming over each other’s bodies. You had never gone this far. Maybe some dry-humping here and there but actual fucking? You were trying (and failing) to contain your excitement. As was Rafe, as he pumped his half-hard cock to full hardness. 

His face held his signature half-lidded eyes look, it was truly a sight to see. You laid back completely flat with your legs spread as you waited for Rafe. You were startled when you felt his hand on your knee. You felt the height of him laying flat against your core. He slotted himself between your lips, and let his spit drip down as he rubbed himself against you. “I want you to try to relax, okay, baby? I don’t wanna hurt you,” you nodded as you tried to follow his directions. Rafe was bigger than you had expected and he was your biggest yet. You took a deep breath as you signaled to him that you were ready. He lined himself up with your entrance as his tip poked at it. Slow, subtle prodding turned into slowly being filled. 

Per your previous orgasm, your fluids and his saliva made it easier. He let out a dragged-out ‘fuck’ as he eased himself into you. When you were filled to the brim with him, he pressed your bodies together, placing his lips onto yours. You could taste remnants of yourself, making you moan into the kiss. Rafe began thrusting into you, softly at first. At first. 

Then, he began pounding into you relentlessly. His hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides. Your eyes remained in the back of your head for a while, your back arched as you tried to hold onto his forearm. “Tell me you love me,” he said. But, you didn’t hear him. You couldn’t. You were too fucked out. Until you weren’t. Because he stopped. Because he had to hear you say it. And you were so close too. 

“Baby,” he slapped your cheek a few times, trying to get your attention. You will yourself to look at him, he’s admiring you. Your eyes were barely open and your lips were still shining from the lipgloss you were wearing earlier in the night. “Tell me that you love me.” He started thrusting his hips again, but this time it was achingly slow. “Rafe, please.” If you were in your right mind, you’d tell him without a heartbeat. But, he was just fucking you stupid mere seconds ago. “Come on, doll. Just say it and I’ll keep going, promise.” His soft neck kisses turned into harsh sucking with a little bit of biting. 

“I love you, Rafe. Fuck.” He sped up his pace while whispering ‘I love you’ into your skin over and over again. Your stomach tightened as your orgasm approached rapidly. “I fucking love you so much,” Rafe moaned into your lips. You felt the warmth of his cum seeping into you, which triggered your orgasm. He slumped over you as you clenched around him repeatedly. His body twitched as he groaned at the sensitivity. He pulled himself off of you, heading to his bathroom to get a wet towel to clean you up with. After he was done, he peppered you with kisses. Apologizing if he was too rough, making sure you had a glass of water before bed. You were asleep within a matter of minutes, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

You woke up to an empty bed, the bright ass sum staring right at you, and the constant pinging of your phone. After stewing in bed for 10 minutes, you picked up your phone to see what all the fuss was about. 

“rafe.cameron tagged you in a photo!”

You hadn’t expected the photo to be of you sleeping soundly with a palette of reds, blues, and purples littered upon your skin. 

“rafe.cameron i left a calling card…”

[visforvengeance]

un jour c'est toi que je partirai

Notes: Howdy! ok so this is a filler chapter. this was originally gonna be chapter 3 buuuut the way I started it wasn't matching how I wanted the chapter to end. so pls forgive me lmao. I wanted to get something out to you guys bc I know it's been a while since the last chapter. I still don't know if i want this series to end before the next season comes out or not but I'm def gonna keep writing itttt

Warnings: cursing? she/her pronouns. mentions of suicide, idk if this should be a tw but description of a panic attack, carmy is a perv in this lowkey. masturbation. when I said philip, i was totes talking about lip gallagher. not too much happens in this. please let me know if I missed anything and thanks for reading <3.

masterpost

“Mikey killed himself.”

He couldn’t do it. Where are you, Carmen? His brother’s funeral was today. You’re supposed to be here. He’s sorry, but he can’t. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? He still couldn’t believe it. Fuck, his chest was starting to hurt. He was getting sweaty, his hearing began to fade in and out, and he couldn’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe. He can’t stop the tears or the sob that tore through him. It echoed throughout his apartment. Fuck this shit. 

He stood in disbelief as he looked upon the one restaurant that could have him shitting bricks. It looked old. And, familiar. And, not his, but absolutely fucking his now. Shit, he couldn’t fucking believe it. This fucking restaurant that haunted his dreams, that he spent his whole life chasing was officially his. He hurried to unlock the door and get inside. He hadn’t told anyone that he was back in Chicago. He wanted to embrace it on his own for a second. It still smelled the same, like Mikey and cigarettes, grease, bleach, and Mikey. 

He looked at the picture frames, news clippings, and awards scattered across the wall. He was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. He hadn’t set foot inside this place in two years, and now his brother is dead and he’s standing in his restaurant. 

He heard the bell ring and turned to see his big sister, “Carmy?” God, did he miss her. He missed them all, he really did. Even insufferable Richie and fucking Fak. And, Y/N. He hadn’t let go of the last conversation they shared. His one shot at true love and he’d gone and fucked it all. Whatever.

He walked over to Natalie, embracing her dearly. “Hi, sis.” He smirked at her as she gasped and swatted his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would’ve gotten you from the airport,” she said with a frown. He shook his head as he waved her off. He smiled up at her, genuinely smiling. “I wanted to surprise you.” “Consider me surprised. So, had a chance to take a look around yet?” He sighed and shook his head. “James told me the store’s not really in good standing?” Natalie let out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck no. I don’t know what the hell Mikey has gotten himself into, Bear.” 

“You, uh, you know where he keeps the records and shit like that?” Natalie shook her head as she took a seat in one of the booths, “you’d have better luck asking Richie.” Ugh. Carmen loathed Richie. But, he tolerated him because he was family and Mikey’s best friend. “Have you seen him around lately?” “Yeah, I told him to meet me here so we could get a headstart on figuring out all of this shit.” Carmen sat in the seat across from Nat, “good. I bet he’ll have some idea.” Natalie nodded slowly as she thinned out her lips. “So,” she says as she clasps her hands together in front of her, “does Y/N know you’re here?” Fuck. She doesn’t know.

Honestly, he didn’t know if he should even tell her. Would she come to see him? Did he have a chance? He hadn’t seen or heard anything about her since Christmas dinner. “No, I haven’t spoken to her since Christmas.” He paused before speaking. “You know she told me she loved me that night?” Natalie had some idea of what was going on between them. Carmen, being the moody little brother he is, kept her out of his business as much as possible. And, Y/N tried to spare her the details for fear of grossing her out. 

“And, what did you say?” “That I loved her too.” For the first time, he was honest. So honest that it scared him. When he thinks back on that night, it almost makes him want to vomit. She felt bad for her brother, this need for Y/N but being unable to do anything about it was eating him up inside and anyone could tell that he wasn’t alright. Pair that with grief and an existential crisis, she didn’t know how he was managing. “How is she?” He knows Mikey’s death couldn’t have been easy for her either. “She’s..coping as best as she can.” He’d love nothing more than to be with her in moments like these, ones that you know you shouldn’t be going through alone. 

“She seeing anyone?” Carmen couldn’t help himself as he asked. Natalie hesitated before answering and that filled Carmen with such dread. “Um, some guy that she went to college with. I think his name is Philip?” He flinched like he was about to be hit. Now, he knows more than he’d like. “Are they like dating? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” Carmen wasn’t trying to pry information out of Natalie for his own personal gain, no way. He was simply inquiring about a friend. 

“Why are you asking?” Natalie was suspicious of the younger boy. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was planning to shoot his shot with Y/N (eventually). It’s about damn time. He shrugged, “Just curious.” She nodded, not believing a word he said. “As far as I know, they’re not too serious but definitely more than friends.” He could only imagine what that meant. Were they already having sex? That was not his business. He needs to get a grip on reality. He nodded and began to stand, just as he was doing so, Richie rushed inside. They hugged and began their bickering immediately after. Natalie just chuckled and walked away. 

Carmen was tired. So fucking tired. It hadn’t even been a full day and he’d endured so much bullshit. The ripping and running and trying to find a decent crew wore him out. He didn’t make it to his bed when he got to his apartment. Instead, he plopped down his couch. After a while, his mind drifted to her. He missed her. Fuck, when didn’t he? He found himself thinking about her constantly. What was she doing today? What did she eat? He was sure it wasn’t nearly as good as what he could make for her. She loved when he cooked for her, so he always did. Never did he allow her to even touch a cooking utensil. He never complained about it either. He loved it just as much. Maybe even more. 

Then, he began thinking about her warmth. He missed it so much that he craved it. It had been too long since he last felt her. Or smelled her scent. He wondered if her lips still felt or tasted the same. Was her skin still as soft as he remembered? Why the fuck is he doing this to himself? It was too late as he felt himself straining against his pants. 

He tried to ignore the lust that was creeping into his head. But, he couldn’t stop himself and he was getting harder the more he thought about her. She made him behave like a fucking pervert. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unbuttoned his pants and slid his hand inside his boxers. Pulling his cock out of his pants, he squeezed the base of it. This was fucking humiliating but it felt too good. He felt bad for thinking about her while doing this. But, he was doing it anyway.  He thought about her face as she was being pleasured, the sounds she’d make. He imagined it was him who made her cum. Just as she was beginning to reach climax, he was cumming all over his hand. He always came the hardest when he thought about her. The deep embarrassment was almost enough to make him never think about her like that, though. Almost. He cursed himself as he wiped his hand on his khakis. It was getting late and he figured he should get ready for bed. She never left his thoughts as he (finally) drifted to dreamland.

[visforvengeance]

Got me giggling and twirling my hair🥹

Downright Iconic

Requested by: No One :)

Notes: helllllo! ok so i lovelovelove rafe and i've been seeing you guys do like a southern gothic type thing so I wanted to try as a southern (Georgia and texas) woman myself. so let me just say I am an atheist that grew up with a highly Christian family. I became an atheist when I was like 14 so idk too many bible verses and I'm sorry if anything is in accurate. I'm just sacrilegious af, like this story oh man. ok this is very much xblack reader based so idk read it or don't. this is heavily HEAVILY ethel cain coded, specifically gibson girl and western nights. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Pairing: rafe cameron x black!southern reader

Warnings: oh man there's so many warnings omg ok. dacryphilia. hinted somnophilia, sexual religious themes, unprotected sex, graphic graphic graphic, degradation (slut, whore, etc), actual slut shaming, I was high while writing most of this and it went berserk. um it's 4k words of porn without plot. i didn't proofread. I don't remember all of the warnings so please read at your own risk!

You sat in the front row of your church, along with your family and others who were important to society. There was your family, the Pastor’s family, the Camerons (Ward Cameron is the mayor of your quaint little town). The Thorntons and the Carreras. Your father’s voice boomed throughout the small church as he recited Proverbs 3:5-6. Kiara’s father had asked him to speak on keeping up your faith after he learned of his daughter’s betrayal. 

She was caught dillydallying with that little blonde boy from the more southern parts of town. Her reputation took quite a hit when everyone found out. It nearly cost her family their business, if it weren’t for the closeness they shared with the Camerons, they’d have faced total ruin. 

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you looked over at your friend. She kept her head down and her hands in her lap while the grip her father held on her wrist visibly tightened. You wanted to go and comfort her, but you knew your mother would disapprove. When she found out about the news, she banned you from ever even looking at Kiara again. Which was hard because she was your greatest friend. Despite your mother’s wishes, you still hung around her. You were her rock whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, you defended her from those who called her foul names and turned on her. 

Your eyes trailed over to the Cameron family. They all sat in their crisp and brightly colored Sunday’s best. Your eyes looked over the eldest child in the family, Rafe. He was a wild child, a true force to be reckoned with. Star athlete at your university, the town’s sweetheart. The boy your mama would be proud to call her son-in-law. The golden child. There was no better American teen than Rafe Cameron. Until the sun goes down and he’s the devil that lurks in the streets. 

Rafe was a notorious party animal. He’s single-handedly why your town has a curfew in the first place. Despite his daddy being the mayor and constantly under public scrutiny, everyone under the age of 27 knew what Rafe Cameron got into. The parties, the drugs and alcohol, premarital sex, he did all of it. 

The two eldest Cameron children were very sneaky. Sarah, who was more like her brother than she’d like to admit, was just as wild. For starters, she was dating one of those pogues. There’s nothing worse than dating a pogue around these parts. She claimed that they were in love and planned on leaving when they got the chance. You’d just nod and pet her hair, bless her heart. You weren’t a fan of slutshaming but if you looked up the very definition of a slut, there’d be a picture of Sarah sitting prettily. You didn’t know how the purity necklace Ward had gotten her hadn’t broken and melted to the ground from her sinful ways. But, you loved her nonetheless. 

Since you were 13 and could no longer control the urges that came with being a growing girl, there had always been something about Rafe. You had a crush on the older boy for years. You didn’t partake in things like masturbation, but on days where you nearly gave in, thoughts of Rafe ran across your mind. His toned body hovered above yours while his breath fanned over your features. He was between your legs, grinding against you so slowly that you felt everything he had to offer. 

Mama and daddy hadn’t taught you about sex yet. They always said that it was something you’d learn about when the time came. So, you didn’t know how vaginas and penises worked and how babies were made or why sometimes when you were alone, if you thought for too long then your breathing would become heavier and there’s this feeling in your stomach. And, you can’t keep your legs from rubbing together and you’re so hot, god (you’ll repent later), you could die. This unknown feeling gets so intense, but you’re so scared. So, you stop. You say your prayers and go to bed. You don’t tell anyone about these moments of little death. 

Rafe was always indifferent towards you until you turned 16 and your body developed more. And, you were no longer just his annoying little sister’s best friend. Fuck, you were so much more. Your tits practically burst out of your sports bra when he sees you practicing for cheerleading. 17 and your ass was looking too good in your jeans. 18 and the sway of your hips had him on his knees. 

He fucked countless girls dreaming that they were you instead. He just knows your virgin pussy would have him going crazy. He knew about your crush on him from one of the times you were talking to Kie while Sarah was out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish you were in his arms too. But, something in him was holding him back. He never knew what and didn’t bother to try and figure it out. He wasn’t going to for a good long while. 

When you looked over at Rafe to discover he was already looking at you, your eyes widened and you immediately looked back at your father. Rafe felt his smirk grow. He spent his days in church daydreaming about bending you over and fucking you right in front of everyone and Jesus Christ himself. He laughed when he thought about the times he didn’t burst into flames. 

He tuned out the preaching as he imagined what your tits would like while he drenched your top in the holy water before him. He imagined it was you saying those prayers while you’re stupid crying on his cock, a girl like you should be praying to the correct god. Rafe wanted you so badly. He decided that he was done wasting time. He’d marry you and make you his pretty little housewife if he had to. He had to stop before the very thought of you being pregnant and swollen with his baby made him cum in his pants. 

After church, your father allowed you to hang out with Sarah at Tannyhill. The two of you lounged around by the pool while Rafe and his friends did the same on the opposite side. While you lay around, floating in the pool, you watched as Rafe watched you in the pool. The sunglasses helped tremendously at hiding your line of vision and allowed you to watch him without shame. His eyes trailed all over your body like he was in a trance and couldn’t choose where to look first. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows, tilting your sunglasses down to look at him. When he realized that you were looking at him, he gave you a small smile and a wink. He watched your doe eyes stare back up at him, your bottom lip being pulled in between your teeth while your eyes trailed down his torso. The heat combined with the brightness of the sun cast a light sheen on Rafe’s body. It was making you clench so deliciously around nothing and had you panting like a bitch in heat. 

Rafe chuckled as he inspected your behavior around him, but Sarah’s voice hid it well enough to go unnoticed. “Rafe, let’s have a party,” Sarah suggested. Rafe hardly ever said no to a party. Their parents left a lot so they had parties pretty often. But, you never attended them. Parties weren’t exactly your thing. You’d very much rather stay at home and watch a movie. Or the most adventurous you’d get is trespassing on public park grounds after hours. 

“I’m down. You spread the word and I’ll get the goods.” Sarah nodded as she began to gather her things, you began to make your way out of the water. Rafe eyed your backside while water cascaded down the smooth brown skin. He stood mesmerized with his tongue in his cheek as your ass jiggled behind you. His eyes never left your body while you walked inside the house. He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you. 

After you and Sarah had settled inside, the two of you chilled inside her room for a bit. “You should come to the party.” Her and Kie always tried to get you to attend one but you always declined their advances. But, Sarah was being very persistent. “Why do you want me to come to your stupid party so bad? I’d feel so out of place. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You tried every excuse you had but Sarah wasn’t budging. “Look. We’re grown-ups now and you can’t just live your life like some virgin loser. You ain’t even had your first kiss yet, darling,” she says as she grabs your face so you’re looking at her. 

She was right. You’ve never been more intimate than holding hands. Your parents put the fear of god in you and it’s buried so far down inside of you, that the only way to purify yourself of it is to die. It’s not like boys hadn’t tried, but you’d push them away faster than they could say ‘hallelujah’. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. These kinds of things never worried you before but this crippling fear of missing out has invaded your brain. 

You stared up at the pale, peachy-colored ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go,” you mumbled. Sarah began jumping around in excitement, “I still don’t have anything to wear, though. My clothes aren’t very party-like.” You frowned as you thought about your clothing options. They didn’t hug your body or show what you were working with. “Fuck it, we’re going shopping,” Sarah declares as she drags you out of bed. 

She convinced you to get this spicy little number that showed off the parts of your body you adored the most. The two of you rushed back to her house so you could get ready. Rafe had already started setting everything up. You were beyond nervous as you’d never done something like this before, definitely never wore anything like this either. Sarah helped you do your makeup, an hour she spent straddling your waist as she focused. You looked like a different person, you didn't even recognize yourself. It was strange. And, your parents would have a stroke if they saw you now. 

The house was filled before you knew it. Various stood all over with cups in their hands or they’re making out against the wall, to be honest, you were scared. You’d never seen so much vulgarity. You couldn’t believe you let Sarah talk you into this. Never again would you let it happen. She had the audacity to leave you alone and suck faces with John B. and you were pissed. You stood near the island of the kitchen with a solo cup in your hand. You were drinking the alcohol and it left you with an unrecognizable feeling. But it was a good one. The music calmed you, as did the LED lighting surrounding the place. You welcomed its embrace easier than you thought you would. 

You watched over the crowd, continuously drinking as you sat on the counter. It’s been an hour and Sarah still hasn't returned. You feared you looked like a drunken loser. And, you did. Meanwhile, Rafe stood on the other side of the house, directly across from you. His height and your sitting on the counter allowed him to watch you as the hour passed. He battled with whether he should approach you or not. The alcohol in his system lowered his inhibitions and lessened his worries. 

He pushed past the intoxicated groups of bodies and reached you. He stood in between your legs while his hands rested on either side of your thighs. Just like in your dream, you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your skin, you basked in it. He invaded your senses. His scent made you woozier along with the alcohol you consumed, he smelled of hints of beer and Bleu de Chanel. His body heat radiated off of him and onto you, engulfing you like a glove. His blue eyes were all that you could see as his half-lidded eyes looked down at you. If you were sober then you’d be questioning how he was able to tempt you like this. You’d do whatever he wanted of you if he asked. And, he liked it that way. 

“Hey, baby.” Baby? Did he know who he was talking to? “Hi, Rafe.” He fucking loved the way you said his name, he could feel his cock starting to stir in his pants. “My sister ditch you for that little bitch, John B. huh?” He was sweaty and breathing so heavily. It made you wonder what had him like this. But, you nodded and continued to look into his eyes. “You want me to take you upstairs to keep you company?” His fingers were caressing your thigh at this point. His touch burned you but you liked it. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Yeah,” you whispered to him. He helped you off of the counter and held your hand, pulling you upstairs to his bedroom. He absolutely had no intentions of talking, unless it was to talk you right out of this little dress you were wearing that made his dick jump in his shorts. 

Once you were in the quietness of his bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He sat closely next to you on his bed. He eyed your body, focusing on the plushness of your tits that spilled out of your dress. And, your thighs that looked so soft, it made him want to mark them up. Fuck, he had to have you. It made you nervous being under his gaze for this long and this closely. He usually never paid you any attention and now, suddenly, it was all on you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he started. He stared at you intently, practically moving you on top of him. You were hot all over. “Thank you,” you sounded more confused than pleased but Rafe could sense your nervousness and it was turning him on more than he thought was possible. 

His fingers played with your inner thighs, softly drawing circles on them. “You know it’s funny. Sarah would be so pissed if she saw us right now.” You were breathless. And drunk. And so fucking close to him. And, there’s a little voice in the back of your head that’s begging you to get ahold of yourself and go home! But, you had to see this out. Maybe, you’d been praying and pleading with God to allow something like this to happen. Maybe, you’d let Rafe do whatever he wanted to you tonight. Maybe, you were willing to be Eve and let Rafe be the serpent that tempts you. 

“Why?” He chuckled and shook his head. You were just a dumb little girl after all. He couldn’t wait until you were his. He’d teach you. And, mold you into his perfect woman. His pretty, pliant princess. “Because she wouldn’t want her brother and her best friend fucking each other. Not if it’s me and not if it’s you.” Everyone and their mother knew you were too good for anyone, especially Rafe. He may have been everyone’s favorite boy but they knew he had a temper on him. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Were you in heaven? Like actually? You knew what ‘fucking’ meant but not exactly how to do it. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you incredibly wet to know that it was what he wanted to do with you. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded before pressing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “I can’t stop thinking about how that pussy would feel wrapped around my cock, mama.” His fingers were now grazing the poor excuse for underwear that you were wearing. Sarah made you buy some thongs because something about panty lines not being attractive or whatever. 

You opened your legs wider for him, which made him groan into your neck. He pulled your panties to the side and was immediately met with your wetness. He softly rubbed your clit, your slick making it easy for his fingers to glide across it, quickly bringing you to orgasm. It happened too quickly for you to provide a proper warning but Rafe wasn’t complaining as he watched you come undone in his lap. Your thighs still shook around his wrist while you came down from your high. 

“That was so hot, baby.” He pecked your lips once, then twice. “I’ve never done that before,” you mumbled. You were beyond embarrassed to admit that. But, Rafe managed to calm you down by stroking your arm. “Not even on your own?” You shook your head. You heard Sarah and Kie talk about cumming and how it felt but you could only imagine. You almost did try pleasuring yourself once, but you were already so scared. Your parents were supposed to be out and all was good until you heard your mom calling for you and you never tried again. 

Rafe was having such a hard time trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond repair. So pretty and so untouched. He didn’t care if it was obsessive or predatory, you were going to be his. He was going to make sure of it. “Do you wanna do it again, babe?” After you gave him a yes, he wasted no time in getting both of your clothes off. Rafe couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. He didn’t believe in God and all of that shit but he was silently thanking whoever there was for this moment that he could only dream of. He thought with you being the pastor’s daughter, that you’d at least make him wait. But, you were just as wanting as he was. Or, you were proper drunk. But, that’s not what matters. 

Rafe paused before reattaching himself to your body, his eyes looked over it. Admiring it. Was he in love with you? He could picture his life with you. You’d give him a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. And, even after you’ve aged and had kids, you’d still be his beautiful, loyal fucking housewife. Oh, shit. He had to be in love with you. He hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet and he’s daydreaming about giving you his kids, what the fuck. He’d never felt this fucking giddy about a girl until you. You made him feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush or some shit. It was unnerving. But, right now he was going to make you see God on his cock, and feelings will come later. 

He leaned over, scattering kisses around your body. “You’re so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it this time. As his lips enclosed themselves around your nipple, teeth grazing them, he moaned. “So fucking beautiful, princess.” He was moaning like a slut above you and you were still a virgin in his bed. He was screwed. However, he didn’t see the effect all of this had on you. Your hips were twitching uncontrollably because of the proximity and of him and his words and his actions. You were begging for something, you didn’t know what. But, you were so fucking desperate for Rafe, you couldn’t bear it. You felt tears sliding down the sides of your face, Rafe noticed in his daze which made him stutter a bit. Were you crying?

“Are you…fucking crying? Baby?” His hands caressed your cheeks but his tone was mocking you. And, you liked it. You nodded shyly. He scoffed and smirked, kissing your head. “Why are you crying, hm?” You were too afraid to say that it was because you were inexperienced. And, your inability to do what you wanted was making you frustrated. Rafe looked at you expectantly, even nudging your cheek a bit. You sighed, “I can’t say what I want you to do to me because I can’t articulate it well enough. Rafe, I don’t know what any of this is or how I’m feeling and I need you to-” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t say it. Your one piece of dignity wouldn’t allow you to. “You need me to teach you, baby? You want Daddy to show you how to make yourself feel good when he can’t help you?” It felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of you as he spoke. 

“W-what?” Your eyes were wide. No one had ever spoken to you this way. And, you think you’d be quite disgusted if it were anyone else. But, Rafe was making you leave a puddle on his damn sheets. He situated himself between your legs so that his cock lay flat against your clit. He pushed his hips into you, which caused you to shiver. “I said, do you need me to show you what it feels like to lose your mind?” His hips never stopped moving. And, you never stopped moaning. What the hell was happening? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want it to stop. You were begging God to not let it stop, you didn’t care about any of it at this moment. Not what your family would think if they knew what a little whore you were being for this white boy. And, you didn’t care if you were going to hell, because as long as you had Rafe with you, no place would be as bad. As Rafe humped you into a senseless, babbling mess, your last comprehensive thought was that you now belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was yours as you were his and nothing would be able to change that. You didn’t know what voodoo magic Rafe had coursing through him but you knew you’d never be separated, till death do you part. 

His hips stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten a response. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You listening?” You whined at the loss of friction but answered. “Yes, baby. I need you to teach me. Please just fuckin teach me, Rafe.” You didn’t know that you just signed your deal with the devil. When Rafe said teach you, he really meant teach you. 

~Now, dearest reader, I beg you let your imagination run wild with that last one.~ 

That was enough of a confirmation for Rafe as his hips resumed their movement. You were feeling the same things as you did when you were alone but more intense. Your tummy twisted with pleasure as your legs clasped tightly around Rafe's slutty, little waist. Your nails raked across his back harshly, but he didn’t mind. Your legs began to shake and you were panting now. You couldn’t describe this feeling, but you trusted Rafe. If he felt nothing was wrong then you allowed yourself to truly embrace it. He looked down at you, kissing you all over your face. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Give me what I want, can you do that? You gonna make a mess of me?” 

You were blinded by white, hot pleasure. Rafe watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he could feel the wet spawning of your pussy against him. You were fucking majestic. He wanted to watch you cum over and over again, that was his goal tonight. You felt yourself grow tired as you came down from your high. Rafe planted kisses all over your face again, “you did so good, baby.” You hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to fall asleep. But, Rafe tapped your cheek rather harshly. “What are ya doing, huh? You thought we were done?” You whined. Your half-lidded eyes stared up at Rafe. “But, Rafey, I’m so tired.” He manhandled you onto your back again, hiking your leg around his waist as he began to line himself up with your entrance. 

“That’s not my problem, baby. I didn’t get to cum and you did twice. That’s not fair, princess. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good too?” You nodded, sleepily. “Good girl. Just let me fuck you, and then you can go to sleep, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed himself into you, bottoming out. He didn’t bother checking up on you as he was fucking for his pleasure now. He moaned at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, already trying to milk him for everything he’s got. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He hadn’t felt anyone as tight as you since he first fucked a girl. He began thrusting inside of you, causing the both of you to moan. You were half asleep while he pounded your shit. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and wet pussy, and heavy groans and soft moans. It was purely pornographic. If only God could see you now. If only your father and mother could see you now. 

The brutal fucking Rafe was giving you was fast and hard, but he was hitting that sweet spot so deliciously. You were clenching uncontrollably around him as you began squirting around him. When Rafe realized, he cursed under his breath. His hips stuttered as he watched the sight below him. When Rafe saw the tears streaming down your face again, it had him spilling inside of you. Mixtures of curses and groans left him as he came. 

His head was in the crop of your neck while you played with his hair. You began to fall asleep again, feeling content just like this. Despite the mess you were laying in. But, Rafe began to move his hips again. Slowly this time. “Rafe, you said-“ “sh shh, baby, just go to sleep. Don’t worry about this.”

[visforvengeance]

Downright Iconic

Requested by: No One :)

Notes: helllllo! ok so i lovelovelove rafe and i've been seeing you guys do like a southern gothic type thing so I wanted to try as a southern (Georgia and texas) woman myself. so let me just say I am an atheist that grew up with a highly Christian family. I became an atheist when I was like 14 so idk too many bible verses and I'm sorry if anything is in accurate. I'm just sacrilegious af, like this story oh man. ok this is very much xblack reader based so idk read it or don't. this is heavily HEAVILY ethel cain coded, specifically gibson girl and western nights. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Pairing: rafe cameron x black!southern reader

Warnings: oh man there's so many warnings omg ok. dacryphilia. hinted somnophilia, sexual religious themes, unprotected sex, graphic graphic graphic, degradation (slut, whore, etc), actual slut shaming, I was high while writing most of this and it went berserk. um it's 4k words of porn without plot. i didn't proofread. I don't remember all of the warnings so please read at your own risk!

You sat in the front row of your church, along with your family and others who were important to society. There was your family, the Pastor’s family, the Camerons (Ward Cameron is the mayor of your quaint little town). The Thorntons and the Carreras. Your father’s voice boomed throughout the small church as he recited Proverbs 3:5-6. Kiara’s father had asked him to speak on keeping up your faith after he learned of his daughter’s betrayal. 

She was caught dillydallying with that little blonde boy from the more southern parts of town. Her reputation took quite a hit when everyone found out. It nearly cost her family their business, if it weren’t for the closeness they shared with the Camerons, they’d have faced total ruin. 

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you looked over at your friend. She kept her head down and her hands in her lap while the grip her father held on her wrist visibly tightened. You wanted to go and comfort her, but you knew your mother would disapprove. When she found out about the news, she banned you from ever even looking at Kiara again. Which was hard because she was your greatest friend. Despite your mother’s wishes, you still hung around her. You were her rock whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, you defended her from those who called her foul names and turned on her. 

Your eyes trailed over to the Cameron family. They all sat in their crisp and brightly colored Sunday’s best. Your eyes looked over the eldest child in the family, Rafe. He was a wild child, a true force to be reckoned with. Star athlete at your university, the town’s sweetheart. The boy your mama would be proud to call her son-in-law. The golden child. There was no better American teen than Rafe Cameron. Until the sun goes down and he’s the devil that lurks in the streets. 

Rafe was a notorious party animal. He’s single-handedly why your town has a curfew in the first place. Despite his daddy being the mayor and constantly under public scrutiny, everyone under the age of 27 knew what Rafe Cameron got into. The parties, the drugs and alcohol, premarital sex, he did all of it. 

The two eldest Cameron children were very sneaky. Sarah, who was more like her brother than she’d like to admit, was just as wild. For starters, she was dating one of those pogues. There’s nothing worse than dating a pogue around these parts. She claimed that they were in love and planned on leaving when they got the chance. You’d just nod and pet her hair, bless her heart. You weren’t a fan of slutshaming but if you looked up the very definition of a slut, there’d be a picture of Sarah sitting prettily. You didn’t know how the purity necklace Ward had gotten her hadn’t broken and melted to the ground from her sinful ways. But, you loved her nonetheless. 

Since you were 13 and could no longer control the urges that came with being a growing girl, there had always been something about Rafe. You had a crush on the older boy for years. You didn’t partake in things like masturbation, but on days where you nearly gave in, thoughts of Rafe ran across your mind. His toned body hovered above yours while his breath fanned over your features. He was between your legs, grinding against you so slowly that you felt everything he had to offer. 

Mama and daddy hadn’t taught you about sex yet. They always said that it was something you’d learn about when the time came. So, you didn’t know how vaginas and penises worked and how babies were made or why sometimes when you were alone, if you thought for too long then your breathing would become heavier and there’s this feeling in your stomach. And, you can’t keep your legs from rubbing together and you’re so hot, god (you’ll repent later), you could die. This unknown feeling gets so intense, but you’re so scared. So, you stop. You say your prayers and go to bed. You don’t tell anyone about these moments of little death. 

Rafe was always indifferent towards you until you turned 16 and your body developed more. And, you were no longer just his annoying little sister’s best friend. Fuck, you were so much more. Your tits practically burst out of your sports bra when he sees you practicing for cheerleading. 17 and your ass was looking too good in your jeans. 18 and the sway of your hips had him on his knees. 

He fucked countless girls dreaming that they were you instead. He just knows your virgin pussy would have him going crazy. He knew about your crush on him from one of the times you were talking to Kie while Sarah was out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish you were in his arms too. But, something in him was holding him back. He never knew what and didn’t bother to try and figure it out. He wasn’t going to for a good long while. 

When you looked over at Rafe to discover he was already looking at you, your eyes widened and you immediately looked back at your father. Rafe felt his smirk grow. He spent his days in church daydreaming about bending you over and fucking you right in front of everyone and Jesus Christ himself. He laughed when he thought about the times he didn’t burst into flames. 

He tuned out the preaching as he imagined what your tits would like while he drenched your top in the holy water before him. He imagined it was you saying those prayers while you’re stupid crying on his cock, a girl like you should be praying to the correct god. Rafe wanted you so badly. He decided that he was done wasting time. He’d marry you and make you his pretty little housewife if he had to. He had to stop before the very thought of you being pregnant and swollen with his baby made him cum in his pants. 

After church, your father allowed you to hang out with Sarah at Tannyhill. The two of you lounged around by the pool while Rafe and his friends did the same on the opposite side. While you lay around, floating in the pool, you watched as Rafe watched you in the pool. The sunglasses helped tremendously at hiding your line of vision and allowed you to watch him without shame. His eyes trailed all over your body like he was in a trance and couldn’t choose where to look first. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows, tilting your sunglasses down to look at him. When he realized that you were looking at him, he gave you a small smile and a wink. He watched your doe eyes stare back up at him, your bottom lip being pulled in between your teeth while your eyes trailed down his torso. The heat combined with the brightness of the sun cast a light sheen on Rafe’s body. It was making you clench so deliciously around nothing and had you panting like a bitch in heat. 

Rafe chuckled as he inspected your behavior around him, but Sarah’s voice hid it well enough to go unnoticed. “Rafe, let’s have a party,” Sarah suggested. Rafe hardly ever said no to a party. Their parents left a lot so they had parties pretty often. But, you never attended them. Parties weren’t exactly your thing. You’d very much rather stay at home and watch a movie. Or the most adventurous you’d get is trespassing on public park grounds after hours. 

“I’m down. You spread the word and I’ll get the goods.” Sarah nodded as she began to gather her things, you began to make your way out of the water. Rafe eyed your backside while water cascaded down the smooth brown skin. He stood mesmerized with his tongue in his cheek as your ass jiggled behind you. His eyes never left your body while you walked inside the house. He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you. 

After you and Sarah had settled inside, the two of you chilled inside her room for a bit. “You should come to the party.” Her and Kie always tried to get you to attend one but you always declined their advances. But, Sarah was being very persistent. “Why do you want me to come to your stupid party so bad? I’d feel so out of place. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You tried every excuse you had but Sarah wasn’t budging. “Look. We’re grown-ups now and you can’t just live your life like some virgin loser. You ain’t even had your first kiss yet, darling,” she says as she grabs your face so you’re looking at her. 

She was right. You’ve never been more intimate than holding hands. Your parents put the fear of god in you and it’s buried so far down inside of you, that the only way to purify yourself of it is to die. It’s not like boys hadn’t tried, but you’d push them away faster than they could say ‘hallelujah’. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. These kinds of things never worried you before but this crippling fear of missing out has invaded your brain. 

You stared up at the pale, peachy-colored ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go,” you mumbled. Sarah began jumping around in excitement, “I still don’t have anything to wear, though. My clothes aren’t very party-like.” You frowned as you thought about your clothing options. They didn’t hug your body or show what you were working with. “Fuck it, we’re going shopping,” Sarah declares as she drags you out of bed. 

She convinced you to get this spicy little number that showed off the parts of your body you adored the most. The two of you rushed back to her house so you could get ready. Rafe had already started setting everything up. You were beyond nervous as you’d never done something like this before, definitely never wore anything like this either. Sarah helped you do your makeup, an hour she spent straddling your waist as she focused. You looked like a different person, you didn't even recognize yourself. It was strange. And, your parents would have a stroke if they saw you now. 

The house was filled before you knew it. Various stood all over with cups in their hands or they’re making out against the wall, to be honest, you were scared. You’d never seen so much vulgarity. You couldn’t believe you let Sarah talk you into this. Never again would you let it happen. She had the audacity to leave you alone and suck faces with John B. and you were pissed. You stood near the island of the kitchen with a solo cup in your hand. You were drinking the alcohol and it left you with an unrecognizable feeling. But it was a good one. The music calmed you, as did the LED lighting surrounding the place. You welcomed its embrace easier than you thought you would. 

You watched over the crowd, continuously drinking as you sat on the counter. It’s been an hour and Sarah still hasn't returned. You feared you looked like a drunken loser. And, you did. Meanwhile, Rafe stood on the other side of the house, directly across from you. His height and your sitting on the counter allowed him to watch you as the hour passed. He battled with whether he should approach you or not. The alcohol in his system lowered his inhibitions and lessened his worries. 

He pushed past the intoxicated groups of bodies and reached you. He stood in between your legs while his hands rested on either side of your thighs. Just like in your dream, you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your skin, you basked in it. He invaded your senses. His scent made you woozier along with the alcohol you consumed, he smelled of hints of beer and Bleu de Chanel. His body heat radiated off of him and onto you, engulfing you like a glove. His blue eyes were all that you could see as his half-lidded eyes looked down at you. If you were sober then you’d be questioning how he was able to tempt you like this. You’d do whatever he wanted of you if he asked. And, he liked it that way. 

“Hey, baby.” Baby? Did he know who he was talking to? “Hi, Rafe.” He fucking loved the way you said his name, he could feel his cock starting to stir in his pants. “My sister ditch you for that little bitch, John B. huh?” He was sweaty and breathing so heavily. It made you wonder what had him like this. But, you nodded and continued to look into his eyes. “You want me to take you upstairs to keep you company?” His fingers were caressing your thigh at this point. His touch burned you but you liked it. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Yeah,” you whispered to him. He helped you off of the counter and held your hand, pulling you upstairs to his bedroom. He absolutely had no intentions of talking, unless it was to talk you right out of this little dress you were wearing that made his dick jump in his shorts. 

Once you were in the quietness of his bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He sat closely next to you on his bed. He eyed your body, focusing on the plushness of your tits that spilled out of your dress. And, your thighs that looked so soft, it made him want to mark them up. Fuck, he had to have you. It made you nervous being under his gaze for this long and this closely. He usually never paid you any attention and now, suddenly, it was all on you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he started. He stared at you intently, practically moving you on top of him. You were hot all over. “Thank you,” you sounded more confused than pleased but Rafe could sense your nervousness and it was turning him on more than he thought was possible. 

His fingers played with your inner thighs, softly drawing circles on them. “You know it’s funny. Sarah would be so pissed if she saw us right now.” You were breathless. And drunk. And so fucking close to him. And, there’s a little voice in the back of your head that’s begging you to get ahold of yourself and go home! But, you had to see this out. Maybe, you’d been praying and pleading with God to allow something like this to happen. Maybe, you’d let Rafe do whatever he wanted to you tonight. Maybe, you were willing to be Eve and let Rafe be the serpent that tempts you. 

“Why?” He chuckled and shook his head. You were just a dumb little girl after all. He couldn’t wait until you were his. He’d teach you. And, mold you into his perfect woman. His pretty, pliant princess. “Because she wouldn’t want her brother and her best friend fucking each other. Not if it’s me and not if it’s you.” Everyone and their mother knew you were too good for anyone, especially Rafe. He may have been everyone’s favorite boy but they knew he had a temper on him. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Were you in heaven? Like actually? You knew what ‘fucking’ meant but not exactly how to do it. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you incredibly wet to know that it was what he wanted to do with you. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded before pressing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “I can’t stop thinking about how that pussy would feel wrapped around my cock, mama.” His fingers were now grazing the poor excuse for underwear that you were wearing. Sarah made you buy some thongs because something about panty lines not being attractive or whatever. 

You opened your legs wider for him, which made him groan into your neck. He pulled your panties to the side and was immediately met with your wetness. He softly rubbed your clit, your slick making it easy for his fingers to glide across it, quickly bringing you to orgasm. It happened too quickly for you to provide a proper warning but Rafe wasn’t complaining as he watched you come undone in his lap. Your thighs still shook around his wrist while you came down from your high. 

“That was so hot, baby.” He pecked your lips once, then twice. “I’ve never done that before,” you mumbled. You were beyond embarrassed to admit that. But, Rafe managed to calm you down by stroking your arm. “Not even on your own?” You shook your head. You heard Sarah and Kie talk about cumming and how it felt but you could only imagine. You almost did try pleasuring yourself once, but you were already so scared. Your parents were supposed to be out and all was good until you heard your mom calling for you and you never tried again. 

Rafe was having such a hard time trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond repair. So pretty and so untouched. He didn’t care if it was obsessive or predatory, you were going to be his. He was going to make sure of it. “Do you wanna do it again, babe?” After you gave him a yes, he wasted no time in getting both of your clothes off. Rafe couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. He didn’t believe in God and all of that shit but he was silently thanking whoever there was for this moment that he could only dream of. He thought with you being the pastor’s daughter, that you’d at least make him wait. But, you were just as wanting as he was. Or, you were proper drunk. But, that’s not what matters. 

Rafe paused before reattaching himself to your body, his eyes looked over it. Admiring it. Was he in love with you? He could picture his life with you. You’d give him a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. And, even after you’ve aged and had kids, you’d still be his beautiful, loyal fucking housewife. Oh, shit. He had to be in love with you. He hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet and he’s daydreaming about giving you his kids, what the fuck. He’d never felt this fucking giddy about a girl until you. You made him feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush or some shit. It was unnerving. But, right now he was going to make you see God on his cock, and feelings will come later. 

He leaned over, scattering kisses around your body. “You’re so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it this time. As his lips enclosed themselves around your nipple, teeth grazing them, he moaned. “So fucking beautiful, princess.” He was moaning like a slut above you and you were still a virgin in his bed. He was screwed. However, he didn’t see the effect all of this had on you. Your hips were twitching uncontrollably because of the proximity and of him and his words and his actions. You were begging for something, you didn’t know what. But, you were so fucking desperate for Rafe, you couldn’t bear it. You felt tears sliding down the sides of your face, Rafe noticed in his daze which made him stutter a bit. Were you crying?

“Are you…fucking crying? Baby?” His hands caressed your cheeks but his tone was mocking you. And, you liked it. You nodded shyly. He scoffed and smirked, kissing your head. “Why are you crying, hm?” You were too afraid to say that it was because you were inexperienced. And, your inability to do what you wanted was making you frustrated. Rafe looked at you expectantly, even nudging your cheek a bit. You sighed, “I can’t say what I want you to do to me because I can’t articulate it well enough. Rafe, I don’t know what any of this is or how I’m feeling and I need you to-” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t say it. Your one piece of dignity wouldn’t allow you to. “You need me to teach you, baby? You want Daddy to show you how to make yourself feel good when he can’t help you?” It felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of you as he spoke. 

“W-what?” Your eyes were wide. No one had ever spoken to you this way. And, you think you’d be quite disgusted if it were anyone else. But, Rafe was making you leave a puddle on his damn sheets. He situated himself between your legs so that his cock lay flat against your clit. He pushed his hips into you, which caused you to shiver. “I said, do you need me to show you what it feels like to lose your mind?” His hips never stopped moving. And, you never stopped moaning. What the hell was happening? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want it to stop. You were begging God to not let it stop, you didn’t care about any of it at this moment. Not what your family would think if they knew what a little whore you were being for this white boy. And, you didn’t care if you were going to hell, because as long as you had Rafe with you, no place would be as bad. As Rafe humped you into a senseless, babbling mess, your last comprehensive thought was that you now belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was yours as you were his and nothing would be able to change that. You didn’t know what voodoo magic Rafe had coursing through him but you knew you’d never be separated, till death do you part. 

His hips stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten a response. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You listening?” You whined at the loss of friction but answered. “Yes, baby. I need you to teach me. Please just fuckin teach me, Rafe.” You didn’t know that you just signed your deal with the devil. When Rafe said teach you, he really meant teach you. 

~Now, dearest reader, I beg you let your imagination run wild with that last one.~ 

That was enough of a confirmation for Rafe as his hips resumed their movement. You were feeling the same things as you did when you were alone but more intense. Your tummy twisted with pleasure as your legs clasped tightly around Rafe's slutty, little waist. Your nails raked across his back harshly, but he didn’t mind. Your legs began to shake and you were panting now. You couldn’t describe this feeling, but you trusted Rafe. If he felt nothing was wrong then you allowed yourself to truly embrace it. He looked down at you, kissing you all over your face. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Give me what I want, can you do that? You gonna make a mess of me?” 

You were blinded by white, hot pleasure. Rafe watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he could feel the wet spawning of your pussy against him. You were fucking majestic. He wanted to watch you cum over and over again, that was his goal tonight. You felt yourself grow tired as you came down from your high. Rafe planted kisses all over your face again, “you did so good, baby.” You hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to fall asleep. But, Rafe tapped your cheek rather harshly. “What are ya doing, huh? You thought we were done?” You whined. Your half-lidded eyes stared up at Rafe. “But, Rafey, I’m so tired.” He manhandled you onto your back again, hiking your leg around his waist as he began to line himself up with your entrance. 

“That’s not my problem, baby. I didn’t get to cum and you did twice. That’s not fair, princess. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good too?” You nodded, sleepily. “Good girl. Just let me fuck you, and then you can go to sleep, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed himself into you, bottoming out. He didn’t bother checking up on you as he was fucking for his pleasure now. He moaned at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, already trying to milk him for everything he’s got. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He hadn’t felt anyone as tight as you since he first fucked a girl. He began thrusting inside of you, causing the both of you to moan. You were half asleep while he pounded your shit. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and wet pussy, and heavy groans and soft moans. It was purely pornographic. If only God could see you now. If only your father and mother could see you now. 

The brutal fucking Rafe was giving you was fast and hard, but he was hitting that sweet spot so deliciously. You were clenching uncontrollably around him as you began squirting around him. When Rafe realized, he cursed under his breath. His hips stuttered as he watched the sight below him. When Rafe saw the tears streaming down your face again, it had him spilling inside of you. Mixtures of curses and groans left him as he came. 

His head was in the crop of your neck while you played with his hair. You began to fall asleep again, feeling content just like this. Despite the mess you were laying in. But, Rafe began to move his hips again. Slowly this time. “Rafe, you said-“ “sh shh, baby, just go to sleep. Don’t worry about this.”

[visforvengeance]

as it was (carmen berzatto x reader)

How do you let go of someone you once loved so dearly? Someone you spent every waking moment with, who loved you just as much as you loved them? Carmen never meant for this to happen. He hated himself for fucking up something that others could only dream of. If he ever regretted anything, it was not fighting for you harder. 

You weren’t just some girl he became close friends with, you were all of that and more. If he believed in god, he’d be praying for one more chance with you, to do things differently. He loved you. More than life, more than anything. 

He stands in this empty restaurant that he’s worked so hard for, his life is practically perfect. Except there’s no you. He should be happy but all he feels is emptiness. He’s gone and fucked it all. As cheesy as it may sound, you were the one that got away. 

Warnings: cursing ofc, angst, no happy ending, whatever the hell donna has done to her kids, grief, death of a family member (mentioned), claire slander, cheating, eventual smut (hell yeah). i believe that's it lmao. if I've missed anything, I'm so sorry. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

{in progress}

Chapter 1

Chapter 2, 2.5

if you'd like to be tagged comment on this post or send me a message<3

[visforvengeance]

heat lightning

Requested by: no one<3

Notes: Howdy! here's chapter twooooo. so i think i should add that it's italicized because all of this in these last two chapters are in the past, before carm becomes the owner of the beef. but the next chapter will be in the present starting from s1.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Warnings: cursing? she/her pronouns. donna is a warning on her own. all angst babey! please let me know if I missed anything and thanks for reading <;3.

masterpost

Y/N sat in the living room with Sugar and Mikey, chaos surrounded them as Donna zoomed around the kitchen. She had to physically restrain Natalie from asking Donna if she was ok. She could see the way her eyes darted between her and the kitchen door behind her. She couldn’t bear to see her friend suffering, so she offered to go with Natalie into the kitchen. Grateful, Natalie held her hand as they approached slowly. 

The mess that covered the kitchen hadn’t phased them one bit as they were used to these things. Y/N softly nudged Natalie forward, still holding her hand tightly as a way of showing support. Natalie looked at the girl beside her and nodded, letting go of her hand. She walked towards the counter, shifting her weight onto it as she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the consequences that could happen. “Hey, mom?” Natalie called out, nervously. “You okay?”

Donna whipped around to look at her daughter. The crazy look in her eyes sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Of course, I’m fucking okay, Sugar. Do you need to ask that every five fucking seconds?!” Y/N shook her head, dragging Natalie away as Donna began yelling about god knows what. She rubbed her friend’s shoulders as she cried into her sweater, softly patting her hair. “It’s ok, babe. Just take a deep breath.” The pair sat outside, Donna’s yelling crescendoed and decrescendoed as Mikey opened and closed the door. He looked tired as he stood over his crying sister. Mikey squeezed in beside the two girls, throwing his arm around Natalie and pulling her into his side. Y/N frowned and looked at Mikey while he began shaking his head. She began heading back inside, before squeezing Nat’s shoulder. “I’ll let you guys know when dinner is ready,” Mikey patted her hand in acknowledgment. 

When Y/N walked back inside, she heard his voice. It caused her to stagger her movements. She hadn’t fully prepared herself to see Carmen when she agreed to this dinner. When they last saw each other, so many things were happening that they didn’t have time for each other. Donna flew around the kitchen like a bat out of hell, Mikey was desperately trying to calm down his crying sister, they each had their respective problem to deal with. Or rather they were choosing to avoid each other like the plague, neither one of them wanted to admit that to themselves. 

Carmen knew that she’d be at the Christmas dinner. Sugar was his way into her life as she’d tell him how Y/N was doing so he didn’t have to ask himself. He really hadn’t meant to distance himself even more from the girl. He hadn’t realized how fucking difficult culinary school could be, or maybe his teacher was just that good at making him feel like shit. Add that on top of what exactly he was missing back home, and his self-doubt. Carmen was struggling with the crippling need to prove himself to his mother and Mikey and everyone ever. But, not himself. Never himself. 

He knew about how well she was doing in school, how her mother was sick, and some guy she was seeing that she liked. That caught his attention. What did he look like? Does he make her laugh? Does he- Natalie had to go. She and this mystery guy plagued his mind heavily, he could hardly focus. He had no one to blame but himself, though. Maybe if he called her more instead of less and remembered to send the gift for her birthday. And, maybe if he wasn’t such a pussy, he could be the one making her smile every morning. Like he used to. 

So, here he stood in his childhood kitchen staring at his childhood best friend/love. He could’ve sworn time moved by slowly, his focus was only on her. She looked a bit older but still the same as the day he left her. Her hair was longer and her body had filled out more. She swapped the colorful graphic hoodies for more neutral-toned clothes like the caramel-colored overcoat that wrapped around her frame loosely. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. For a moment there, he pictured what life would have been like with her if he hadn’t left.

He snapped back to reality when Donna screamed his name for the ninth time and Y/N had gone to help Richie with Tiffany. She didn’t say a word to him before she walked away. He watched as a frown crept onto her features upon discovering he was there. That hurt a bit, but he knew it was the least he deserved. 

She hurried to get away from him. She should’ve known better than to expect that he wouldn’t come but she hadn’t prepared herself for when she saw him. He looked like Carmy but tired. Like the years hadn’t been kind to him. But, his curls still lay wildly against his head. In all directions as if he’d been running his hand through them when he was stressed, something he always did that she adored. The red sweater both hugged his body but fit loosely in a way that only Carmen could pull off. He hadn’t changed one bit. He was still awkward, still looking like he’d been through the worst days of his life. 

She knew that there would be some kind of conversation to happen between them, that was unavoidable. Her mind raced as she thought of everything she felt about him these last two years. Unwavering love, hate, yearning, resentment. It was all too much. She feared that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. When it came to Carmen, she always indulged herself. She allowed herself to hang onto his every word. She couldn’t manage that this time. She feared that if she did so, she may lose herself in the end. 

When she came back into the kitchen, in desperate need of Sprite for Tiffany, she walked into a complete shitstorm. Unfazed, though, she walked over to the fridge. Only to find a severe lack of the fizzy drink. Though, she could’ve sworn she told Mikey to get some. She racked her brain figuring out how to remedy the situation, when she suddenly remembered there was an award-winning chef-to-be near. Surely, he’d know how to make something. 

“Carmen,” he wasn’t looking for it, but he heard it. Her soft voice overpowered all the yelling, clear as day, he heard it. He tuned out everything else, giving her his full attention, as always. “What?” What? How can I help? Please let me help. She knew him like the back of her hand, still. He’d do anything for her. “I need you to make some kind of seltzer-y beverage for Tiffany,” she held her hands up in prayer form, silently begging. 

This was the first time he’d spoken to her in years, he hadn’t meant to stare at her all wide-eyed. She snapped him out of his trance, “y-yeah, just give me a minute.” She smiled, grateful for him. Everyone else in the kitchen began spouting mess, taunting Caremn for his skills, She admired him and what he could do. Carmen was beyond talented, she didn’t know how he couldn’t see it. She watched as he moved gracefully around the kitchen, a shocking difference in comparison to Donna. She could watch him all day. He managed to dodge Donna as he handed her ice cold drink, garnished with a single mint leaf and a slice of lemon. She thanked him and handed the drink to Richie who paced around the kitchen, conversing with Donna. 

Mikey and Richie had caught Carmen in the hallway, happily mentioning Claire. Claire was a girl who had a crush on Carmen all throughout grade school and well into high school. During junior year, Claire and Carmen had a fling, which Y/N didn’t like so much. Carmen didn’t force her to third wheel, he always made sure to include her when it was time they hung out with friends. But, it had her wishing it was her instead.

The fucking love of his life, they called her. She listened more as they went on about how her body had changed and she looked more like a woman or whatever, she couldn’t bear to stand it. She thanked god as she heard Carmen protesting. “You fucking what? What the hell do you mean?

“Woah, woah, Carmen, calm down.”  Carmen failed to keep his cool as he listened to his brother. “Bro, no one asked you to fucking do that, what the fuck.” Mikey scoffed, “Hold up. I was just trying to help you out, Carm. Look, I mentioned the fucking Napa thing- I mean the fucking Copenhagen shit, alright?” Carmen contemplated blowing his brains out about this later, he couldn’t believe Mikey. “Why? Like, why are you like this? I’m not in love with her. I mean, we had a fling? In High school? Fuckin 5 years ago? Be serious, guys. Come on.” Their bickering began to grow louder only to be interrupted by Donna. Thank fucking christ.

Y/N roamed the halls aimlessly, for once shit had settled down. She had no one to tend to. She decided to have a seat outside and take a breath of fresh air. What she hadn’t expected was to find Carmen sitting on the stairs before her. She took a seat next to him, placing her hands between her thighs for warmth. “Hi, Carmy.” He jumped as he heard her voice, he really wasn’t expecting her to speak to him. Let alone sit beside him. But, he responded, nonetheless. “Hey,” he hoped she didn’t hear how his voice shook, “hanging in there?” Carmen knows firsthand just how crazy shit can get in his home. 

What the hell could she say to him after 2 years, though? ‘Hey, Carmen. It’s so good to see you. I still want you by the way!’ Fuck. “Barely. You?” Let’s see, his alcoholic mother invited him home for Christmas dinner, and then proceeded to terrorize the entire family. Oh! And, the girl he’s loved his whole life is here, too! The girl he fucking ignored for two years, his best friend. It was all a hot mess. 

“Fucking hardly,” she gave him a smirk. He smiled. Truly smiled for the first time in god knows how long. “After spending the day in this shithole? It gets the best of us, doesn’t it?” He looks out to the street, silently remembering their childhood, “sure does.”

She wanted to know what New York was like, his life there. Was it really so demanding that it cost them their friendship? Or..whatever they had between them. She wasn’t as delusional as Carmen. She stopped denying the fact that there was something more between them and anyone who looked at them could see it too. 

“Was it worth it in the end?” He hadn’t expected her to ask that, he was still processing the fact that she was speaking to him. “Was what worth it?” Carmen, the smartest guy she knew, could be a real dumbass sometimes. She used to think that he was just fucking with her, but he’s really just like that. “The leaving, the ghosting, everything that has happened in the last two years that pulled you away from me.”

She tried to keep her anger down. She hadn’t been able to express her feelings to him because he never answered the fucking phone. Not for her, anyway. She almost forgot what his voice sounded like. She almost forgot how he sounded when he yelled. How he sounded when he told her he loved her. How he cried. How he smelled. She almost forgot him. 

Carmen didn’t know how to answer that. Hell, he asked himself that every day and never came up with an answer. He thought about his time in New York. The new things he learned, his mentors. Was it worth it? “Yes,” he whispered. He looked up into her eyes, and her watery ones stared back at him. “But, if I could do it all over again, I’d take you with me.”

If he could go back to the night he left, he’d kiss her and beg her to come with him. They’d get an apartment together, and she’d attend Columbia University, and they’d be happy. Together. And, she’d go. 

“I loved you, Carmen.” Her voice was low. But it echoed in Carmen's head. Loved? His worst nightmare is in full effect. “I loved you from the moment I first met you. I played it off as just friends being friends but the things I’ve done and the words I said? Friends don’t do that.” He had to have known, right? They were each other’s first kiss. And second. And third. 

“During freshman year, I realized it. When I found out you were dating Claire, it was the worst day of my life. I felt so sick-“ “That’s why you missed school that day.” He thought back on that day. He was so excited to tell her he’d finally got a girlfriend and that it was Claire, the girl he had a crush on. The girl he used to get over her. He remembered how quickly her mood had changed as soon as he told her the news. She told him that she had to do something for her mother and he didn’t hear from her or see her until Monday and everything was fine again. 

Her voice trembled as she spoke, “Then college came and you were leaving and I hated myself for not saying something then. Then college happened and we were fading until there was nothing left.” She turned her head to look at him, sniffling. “How do you stop loving someone you’ve spent most of your life wanting?” How when your whole world is him? The people you hang around, the places you visit, it’s all him. 

“I love you,” he says to her. He shut down any girl that tried to get with him because they weren’t her. “Claire was a pawn. To try and get over you.” He realized how bad that sounded, but he didn’t care, at least he was being honest. “It didn’t work. I spent all my time looking for you in her. She wasn’t you.” You couldn’t even call it a relationship, whatever they had. It lasted 3 days and never got farther than holding hands. He was starting to feel bad for how much he wished Claire was Y/N. So he ended it. 

“I could blame being busy and culinary school for not talking to you but it was just me. I got too into my head, I let myself believe that you deserved better, that your life would be better without me in it.” His voice cracked as he spoke. For the first time in a long time, he was finally being honest. 

“So, you decided for me?” He sighed as he realized that he had decided for her. “I’d have chosen you again and again because, Carmen, you are so much more than you realize.” 

“So, what now?” He had to go back to New York soon. He only has a year left but who knows if he’ll even come back home after?

She starts teaching at her new school next year. Fresh out of college, everything will be crazy. “We’ll see, Carmen.”

[visforvengeance]

A little slice of heaven

sydney x fem! reader x carmen (they're all dating)

plot: syd and carm come home after a long day of work and find comfort in you. pure fluff!!

Warnings: Carmen is taller than the reader, reader wears a cropped top and panties. reader makes mac and cheese, but does not eat the mac and cheese herself! so ppl with dairy allergies don't feel left out

-

When Carmen gets home, all he can think about is sleeping.

Sydney is stood, at his side, hooking her puffer jacket onto the decorative coat stand that came with the apartment. It hadn’t been at the apartment on the initial viewing, but when they had moved in, there it was. Its brushed metallic paint shined gold in the sunlight. It wasn’t intended to be kept, but eventually, it felt like the apartment wouldn’t have been the same without it. 

Carmen felt like he had a lot in common with the coat rack. 

Sydney toed off her shoes in silence, pushing them neatly against the wall. He knew she was doing it for his sake. She did a lot of things she didn’t before, simply for his sake. 

They were both exhausted, too tired to talk. It was an established fact that talking with each other when they felt like this, still pent up from the day, could leave them more angry than not. So they stayed in comfortable silence. Sydney reflecting upon a fleeting day, Carmen brooding over what needs to be done on the next. 

Carmen goes to the kitchen, feeling like he would rather go anywhere but. He wants to shower, so he can scrub away the remains of the day. He wants to face plant into bed and sleep without setting an alarm. 

He knows he can’t though, while he would happily let himself go hungry, he wouldn’t let Syd. So he goes in with intentions to make a quick sandwich. A way to say thank you for not pushing him to talk even though he knows she so desperately wants to. He’s trying his best, but some days he still can’t handle it. 

Then he hears the sizzling of hot oil in a pan. 

He sees you, who should be long in bed, standing at the stove, spatula in hand. 

You’re barely wearing anything, a pair of panties and a cropped tank top. He and Sydney both have told you not to wear so little when cooking with hot oil. You never listen though. You’re wiggling your hips to a song that he can hear muffled, coming from your headphones. 

Carmen takes a moment to drink you, still getting used to the fact that this is real. That he isn’t alone anymore and he has two people to take care of, who in turn take care of him. 

Sydney wastes no time in making her way to you, arms wrapping around your waist, a kiss pressed to your cheek. Sydney has been used to your kindness far longer than Carmen. 

You squeal, at first from shock and then from affection. Giving Sydney two sticky kisses of her own. “Welcome home,” you greet, voice soft and silky. 

Not wanting your efforts to go to ruin, you squeeze Sydney tightly in one arm then use your other to stir a big pot, filled to the brim with Mac and Cheese. A simple meal, one you’re confident you can cook to edible standards. 

It’s still a little nerve-wracking, cooking for two people who are so talented. You feel like a child holding out a crayon drawing to Gustave Courbet. You’re not sure you’ll ever feel on equal footing with them in the kitchen, but you know, that your mac and cheese goes down well on nights like these.

Carmen is still awkward in his affections. “You didn’t need to do this,” He says timidly walking over to the stove. Carmen appreciates the tidiness of the kitchen, the pots already cleaned and drying on the rack. You’re stirring the mac and cheese around, waiting for the patties on the skillet to finish cooking. 

Syd’s head is resting against your shoulder, she’s completely lax against you. You have this magic about you that Carmen so clearly lacks, of making people feel calm. 

“I know,” You reply, a smug grin on your face as you lean up for a kiss. Carmen reciprocates, kissing you short and sweet.  Sydney pouts at being disrupted, half-asleep against you. You kiss her, to soothe her, but continue your doteing on Carmen. 

Your hand briefly leaves the wooden spoon, moving instead to run through Carmen's hair and scratch down the back of his neck. His shoulders relax a little, eyes closing at the brief feeling of bliss. 

He grimaces when your hand goes back to the spoon, in need of your tender touches.“Why don’t you go for a shower bear, it’ll be all ready when you’re done,” 

He nods, still not really up to talking if he doesn’t need to. He unhunches his back, going back to his full height but then hesitates, leaning down again to press a firm kiss to the side of your head. 

He leaves the room with pink staining his cheeks. You can’t help but grin, endeared by his little affections. 

Syd plays with your fingers, mumbling into your shoulder, now that Carmen has gone, about the stressors of the day. An asshole who kept sending food back, a delivery driver with no manors, a ruined pot of sauce. 

You nodd along, content to listen and let her burn off steam. 

“Is this ok?” You ask, holding out a spoon of pasta to her, hand cupped underneath. You know it is, but enjoy the act of feeding her too much to not ask for her opinions. 

She opens her mouth, letting you guide the spoon to her. You adore Sydney when she gets like this, like a tired baby, happy for you to dote on. Your tired baby. She likes to do things herself, used to being self-sufficient. You enjoy it when she lets do things for her.

She hums around the spoon, making no effort to open her eyes at any point. “Really good,”

You smile, unsure you can even feel more content. 

A few minutes later the shower cuts off, Carmen walks back into the kitchen, pyjamas resting low on his hips. Syd is almost asleep on your shoulder, drooling into your spaghetti straps. 

You couldn’t be more in love.

[visforvengeance]

You were his. You were all fucking his. Your gorgeous smile, your beautiful body, your kind heart- it was all fucking his. And here you were, using him to pleasure yourself. It was a fucking dream, it had to be.

That was the only thought running through Simon Riley’s mind in that moment, as his eyes locked onto your figure. You had a death grip on his shoulders, your pretty nails digging into his skin through his shirt, surely leaving little marks Simon always fucking adored.

He watched as you ground your wet heat on his thigh, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. You let out soft whines, as your sensitive clit rubbed up against the fabric of Simon’s jeans.

Simon pulled your face down, desperate to kiss you, desperate to feel his lips against yours, desperate to taste you. He slotted his lips against yours, relishing in the soft mewl you let escape in his mouth.

Your nails found solace in his hair, your fingers twisting at the soft brown strands before digging them into his scalp. Simon groaned, his own hands perched on your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to grind against his thigh.

It all became too much, the taste of your sweet tongue against his, the soft moans you let loose into his mouth, the wetness pooling on his jeans from your soaked core, the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp.

Simon ripped his mouth away from you as the coil in his belly snapped, his cock twitching in his pants causing a spot of wetness to form on the crotch of his jeans. “Oh my fuck, fucking hell.”

You stopped your movements, your wet heat laying still on top of your lieutenants thigh. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at Simon. “Si? Are you okay?”

Simon’s eyes landed on his crotch, his cheeks burning red upon realizing he just came in his pants. Untouched.

“I..uh.. ‘m fine.” Simon muttered, unable to look at you. He was mortified, he’d never once had this happen to him before and he hadn’t a clue of what to do. Surely, surely you’d judge him.

You bit your lip softly, fully realizing what had just happened, and it made your heart race. You never realized the effect you had on your lieutenant, on your lover.

You sank to your knees, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs as you slowly moved to unbutton Simon’s jeans. You nearly had his pants off before his hand stopped you, causing you to look at him.

“Please, don’t. I uh…” Simon’s words trailed off as you slowly dragged your tongue along the wetness on his boxers. He had to bite back a moan as he watched your eyes roll back, your tongue continuing to lap at his arousal. “W-what are you doing?”

Simon had to remember how to breathe when you looked back up at him, your pretty fuckin’ eyes blown with lust, a small devious smile dancing on your lips. You pulled his cock out, biting your lip at how soaked it was, before dragging your tongue across the tip.

“I’m cleaning up my mess, sir.”

Surely, this was a fucking dream- but Simon never wanted to wake up from it.

[visforvengeance]

944 miles

Requested by: no one<3

Notes: Hi! So sorry I took so long to post this lmao. Um this will be a series. I haven't worked out how many chapters there will be but I do know how I want at least the next two chapters to be. If you've seen my last post where I posted a snippet of it, then you know I had an OC named Rue Winston. That will be changed and the only thing that will remain is the last name and no character description will be involved but do know I had black!reader in mind. Thanks for reading <3

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Warnings: cursing? she/her pronouns. i think that's it. it's only the first chapter so nothing too crazy going on.

masterpost

Fatima rushed to the Berzatto Family Salon door with her young daughter by her side. Fatima wouldn’t have been late if it weren’t for her babysitter canceling at the last minute. The poor child was just too young to care for herself. 

As Fatima frantically searched around the building for Donna, her hairstylist, Y/N sat idly by. She played with the toys her mother had gotten her for her 5th birthday, which was just a few months before. When Fatima’s eyes landed on Donna’s, they reflected a range of emotions. 

Donna felt bad for the young mother, having three kids of her own, she knew what Fatima was suffering. Donna’s eyes traveled to the playing toddler on her floor, not a care for the outside world. She reminded her of her own child, Carmen, the youngest. 

“Donna! I’m so sorry I’m late. My babysitter bailed last minute and I had no one else to watch her,” Fatima was on the verge of tears. This wasn’t the future she imagined when she found out she was with child. 

Her husband, Ezra, had walked out on his family when their daughter was 2 years old. He had claimed he never wanted a child in the first place. 

“Ok ok ok, Hun. Just take a deep breath, it’s fine. I have a son who’s around the same age as her. He’s here with me today, they could play together!”

She rushed through the door, ignoring everyone except for Carmen. He sat on his bed watching his best friend bounce around in his bedroom. 

“It’s here! It’s here! It’s here!” She squealed while clutching the unopened envelope to her chest. 

Carmen was dreading the day when they received their acceptance letters. He hadn’t told her that his college of choice was in New York. He knew that she’d d be attending college in Chicago, but fucking Carmen. He always had to strive for the best. 

He felt like shit, but the pure excitement on her face was infectious. He couldn’t help his smile as they switched envelopes, now holding each other’s futures in their hands. 

“I’ll go first, you ready?” He watched as she bit at her nails anxiously, she nodded. 

Carmen opened the letter, he spared one glance at her before he began reading. 

“Dear Ms. Winston, I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as an official student of the English Literature and Arts Department…” Rue’s hearing had faded as she allowed the words to process. 

When it finally hit her, she rushed into Carmen’s arms. Her tears soaked into the cotton of his shirt but he didn’t let that deter him from telling her just how proud he was of her. When they pulled away, he held her face in his hands as she took deep breaths to calm herself down. He looked into her eyes, silently asking if she was okay. She nodded, looking back into his blue ones. 

Y/N carefully tore into the letter, her eyes scanning over the paper. The Institute of Culinary Education, 225 Liberty Street, 3rd Floor, New York, NY 10281. New York? No, this can’t be. He’d tell her if he was going to New York, right?

She cleared her throat and began reading, “Dear Mr. Berzatto, we are very pleased to offer you admission into The Institute of Culinary Arts.” Her throat ran dry as she read. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied for New York?”

“You’re the one who told me not to tell you,” he huffed, suddenly feeling defensive at his lack of mentioning. 

“It’s fucking New York, Carmen! I meant don’t fucking tell me if it was in the goddamn state. I thought that was obvious. Why there, anyway?”

He felt strings tugging at his heart as her voice cracked. Why did he choose New York? A 944-mile drive away from his home? His family? From the girl he loved? When making his decision, She was the last thing on his mind at the time. Mikey not allowing him to work at the family restaurant fucked with Carmen’s nerves. 

Lack of communication led to him believing that his brother thought he wasn’t good enough. So, Carmen figured “Maybe if I go to this prestigious school and become the world’s greatest chef, he’ll think I’m good enough then.” 15-year-old Carmen had made up his mind, everything else be damned. But, nothing would prepare him for the moment it came time to tell his best friend that he was leaving her. 

“It’s the best culinary school in the state,” her eyes began to water. She felt fucking elated that Carmen was getting into the school of his dreams, but it being 14 hours away was breaking her heart. She didn’t want to make him feel bad or ruin this moment, but the way she could feel herself start to sweat was overwhelming. 

She decided to drop it. She didn’t want Carmen to feel bad about his decision. Willing her tears to dry, she quickly smiled. “I’m so proud of you,” She was genuinely so proud of Carmen. She wanted nothing more than for him to succeed. If his succeeding meant she had to cheer him on from Chicago, she’d do it proudly. 

Carmen could feel the sadness radiating off of her. He knew what she was doing. The switch from being on the verge of tears to smiling brightly was a reaction he’d seen far more than he liked. Being the reason wasn’t something he liked too much, either. But, when she said that she was proud of him, he believed her. He always believed her. 

The last few days of school had been so tiring with graduation and Carmen leaving for NYC soon. She and Carmen spent as much time with each other as they could. Fatima worked a lot and Donna always had something that needed her attention. Everyone was busy. Summertime was approaching which meant Mikey had to prepare. He’s still not letting Carmen help, though. 

She sighed as she felt her back hit the mattress beneath her. She hadn’t had time to relax and take a deep breath until now. She was home alone, with no plans and a severe and excruciating lack of Carmen. She saw less of him after the pair read their acceptance letters together. She didn’t know whether it was because of the news he shared or he was just extremely busy. 

Regardless of whether they were fighting or not, Carmen never avoided her. There was no reason for him to be mad at her and she wasn’t particularly mad at him, but there was a dark cloud that hung over them. An unwavering force that bullied its way between them, you could practically see it. 

She wanted to be happy for him, but the negative feelings always crawled their way back up. Was she overreacting? This wasn’t the end of them. They could always call, visit each other, or text. It wasn’t like he was moving to another country. 

He was leaving her today. She began to panic at the thought but forced herself through it. She gathered all of the items she wanted to give to him before he left. His favorite shirt that he’s always searching for (she stole it), the matching bracelet that he’d leave on her dresser so he wouldn’t lose it, and a painting that she made for them. The painting was of them together. She spent the entire school year working on it, she made it for him after he practically begged her to do a painting for him. 

After she was done, she made her way next door. The constant ruckus could be heard outside of the door. Donna is yelling for Mikey to help his brother, Sugar and Richie are fighting over god knows what. She pushed herself through the door. It was warm inside, and it smelled like apple pie and cinnamon. It always smelled like something delicious at the Berzatto house. 

Donna noticed her first, rushing to her while calling for Mikey to come and grab the (not heavy) box from her. Donna pulled the younger girl into her warm embrace, bombarding her with questions as she always did. It never bothered her as she knew what Donna was like and loved her dearly. Donna always treated her as if she was her child, she’d look after her when Fatima was busy with work. She’d invite her on family trips, she was an unofficial family member like Richie. 

“How are you, sweetheart? You hungry? We made a little something for Bear before it’s time for him to go,” Donna held her face in her hands as she spoke. Her heart warmed at Donna’s actions. Despite her doing things like this since the moment they met, it always made her smile. She politely declined, though. She wanted to be alone with Carmen for a while. 

“I’m not hungry at the moment, Mama D, but I promise I’ll eat before I go,” Donna nodded and gave her cheeks a small pat. They spoke a little bit more before Donna left her to continue doing what she was doing. She had a habit of minimizing her emotions when something big happened. She kept a straight as she walked up the stairs to Carmen’s room, but her mind was racing. She didn’t want to think about the bad things that could happen while she and Carmen were apart. 

She pushed the door open, standing in the doorway as she watched the two brothers talk. “Dude, you’re doing it the wrong way-“

“I think I know how to properly tape up a box, Carmen.”

“You’re literally doing it wrong.”

She couldn't hold in her laughter as they bickered back and forth. Their heads snapped toward her, startled by her presence. “Jesus, fuck, bunny. You scared the shit out of me!” Mikey set down the box he was holding to rush over and hug her. She hugged him back, squeezing him a bit as she did so. “Sorry, Mikey. I wanted to see who’d get hit first,” Mikey chuckled. 

She and Mikey had a special kind of bond. She had a unique bond with each Berzatto child. But, the two of them were like siblings. Mikey was like the big brother she never had, always to her rescue if needed. When Carmen couldn’t be bothered, she had Mikey and Sugar. 

Before he could respond, Carmen cleared his throat. Mikey looked between the two, gears turning in his head. You see, Michael knew of his feelings for the girl. He was constantly trying to get Carmen to step up and admit his feelings for the girl but Carmy was always too nervous to do so, afraid he’d lose her. He couldn’t risk that. 

Mikey nodded, raising his arms in defense and he backed off, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She sat on Carmen’s bed, looking around his room. It looked nearly empty, aside from the furniture. “Did you get a chance to look at the things I brought?” Carmen looked over everything except for the painting. He’d seen her art before, he knew how talented she was. But he feared that if he looked at it now, his heart would break all over again. 

“Yeah, everything except for the painting.” She felt her body twitch as their eyes locked. His expression was unreadable as she wondered why he hadn’t taken a glance. “Promise you’ll take a peek when you get to your dorm?” She thought she sounded fucking pathetic. ‘Please look at this painting that means so fucking much to me, it’s the least you could do.’ She wanted to throw up. 

In reality, Carmen didn’t want to look. Not because he feared he’d hate it, but because then he’d be forced back to reality. The reality that he’s in love with his best friend whom he’s about to leave for four fucking years. The reality is that he’s loved her since middle school and now it’s too late because he’s a coward. “Promise.”

She and Carmen had spent their last few hours together in his bed. The sun had fallen, and everything was packed up and ready to go. Carmen said his goodbyes to everyone, except her. She lingered somewhere nearby, watching as he hugged and kissed his family. They were both trying to prolong their last few moments together. “I’m gonna miss you,” she could hardly speak. God, did she not want to cry right now. 

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Carmen’s facade was starting to crack. He allowed it to, he only allowed himself to feel in front of her. “And don’t forget about me, either.” Her tears were streaming down her face, heavy drops landing on her shirt. Carmen couldn’t handle it anymore as he pulled her into a tight hug. Their tears soaked into the other’s shirt as they cried together. They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Mikey called for Carmen. She watched as her best friend drove away. She’d never believe you if you told her that she wouldn’t hear from him for 2 years.

[visforvengeance]

Guilty

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: it didn't matter that she did everything for him. it didn't matter that she loved him. insecurities ruin a great thing, love can't fix these problems

Authors note: angsty angsty angsty, bad JJ

Song rec: grave by tate mccrae

Perfect.

Everything had to be perfect. 

The perfect dress. The perfect makeup. The perfect boy. 

The past several days were borderline catastrophic with JJ getting arrested for sinking Topper’s boat. I begged and pleaded with my parents to help me get him out, promising them anything they wanted. They asked for the one thing I couldn’t give them. JJ. 

And yet, I said yes. I said yes because the thought of him sitting in a cell all alone, stuck with nothing but his thoughts made my stomach turn. He’s always thought that nobody needed him. Maybe that was something his drunken father drilled into him but it was far from the truth. I needed him.

Everything had spun out of control and it all started the minute I met JJ Maybank. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Being with him was like walking for the first time. Nerve wracking yet exhilarating--freeing.  

My life before him was just that, a life. Everything revolved around being the perfect little daughter to my parents. Debutantes, charity dinners, polo matches, and country clubs filled my schedule to the brim but they were rarely there. My mother was running a successful fashion line, working on her latest release while my father was a shark in the courtroom. While I loved every second of splurging on clothes, lavish trips to Europe, brunch at my favorite restaurant, I was missing something. I always felt like something was missing in a world where I had everything. 

That’s not to say I’m ungrateful for every opportunity my position and family has afforded me. But when you spend enough time with people you realize are only conversing with you for money or to step on you to increase their social capital, nothing seems genuine. 

Everything interaction was superficial and it became isolating. But with JJ, each and every moment we shared was intimate and unfeigned. 

He taught me how to surf the swells he spent hours in daily. I learned the slight touch of hand in the art of being a mild kleptomaniac. After several failed attempts and many loud complaints, I could finally balance on his dirt bike. 

None of these moments could be bought with money and maybe that’s why I cherished them so much. I cherished them so greatly that I refused to let them go.

And in turn, I couldn’t let him go. Despite the ever growing distance that's wedged itself between us the moment he was released from jail. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe it could have been the condescending jabs my dad threw his way, but JJ had pulled away. 

My father's threats to revoke the bail money hung heavy above our heads. So tonight, I was going to try and change that. I needed to bridge the gap that had us so far apart. Midsummers was how I was going to achieve that.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for several seconds to calm my racing heart. I open them slowly, dragging my gaze along my reflection on the floor length mirror at the entrance to the club. A silky number drapes my dainty figure in the softest brush of yellow with threaded pearls as straps. Ivory satin Jimmy Choo heels from their latest collection decorated my feet. 

The familiar rumble of a truck had a grin pulling at the corners of my lips. My parents were somewhere in the building, having been on the board and needed to sign off on some last minute details. 

I didn’t mind the constant abandonment. The loneliness that once clung to me had slowly evaporated the moment JJ entered my world. 

Grabbing my Chrsitian Dior clutch, I headed for the entrance of the Island Club. A familiar mass of shaggy blonde hair had my feet moving quicker. The minute his face came into view I knew something was wrong. 

His lips were tight in a grim line as he continuously shook his head. I quickened my steps, apologizing swiftly to several people who were trying to get my attention. 

“I’m sorry, sir. Are you a member here?”

“Well, no, but my girlfriend-.” 

“Then I’m afraid you're going to have to turn back around. This is a private club.”

“Listen dude, my girlfriend invited me and-”

“Sir, you need to get back into your vehicle before I call security.” The coordinator, who went by Ryan, dismissed JJ without a second glance.

JJ’s eyes narrowed. “If you’d let me speak-”

“This is private property.”

“Bro, calm down. You’re not protecting the president.” JJ huffed, shoving his hands into his pocket. His cheeks tinted a slight red which had my blood boiling. 

He was person. Period. One that didn't deserve to be treated like that especially in such a public setting. I was livid at the thought of Ryan managing to make JJ feel embarrassed. 

“You’re not a member-”

“No, but I am.” I snapped coming to a stop beside him, causing the event coordinator to rear his head back in surprise.

“Hey, baby. ” The familiar pull of his voice coated me like the warmest honey. A smirk tugged at his lips at the obvious irritation on my face. 

Pausing to give JJ my attention, I placed a soft kiss on his lips and pushed back a wild strand of blonde hair. “Hi.”

The smile he gave me was like a sudden beam of light that hit me square in the chest. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t realize he was with you-”

“Add JJ Maybank to my member account,” My words were sharp and left little room for argument, though they were dripping with the sickeningly sweet tone I mastered at the young age of twelve. “Consider yourself up to date.”

“I’ll get it done.” With that, Ryan tipped his head and left quickly. 

I bristled once more, muttering under my breath, ”Dick.” My chest was heavy with guilt at his treatment, wondering if this was actually a good idea. I gnawed at my bottom lip nervously.  

This was not how I wanted our night to start. 

“I’ve never been a member before.”

Not bothering to conceal my giggle, I turned around and allowed my eyes to drift over every inch of JJ. The black suit I bought him was fitted and hugged every muscle in a way that had my stomach clenching. 

Sun kissed hands reached for me the moment I was within his reach. My arms wrap around the mass of lean muscles, my nose buried in his neck. Taking a deep breath, salt and sex wax filled my senses and I let myself relax. 

Home. He felt like home.

“You look very handsome.”

A rumble left his chest. “My sugar mama bought it for me.”

Hiding my face in his chest, a loud laugh slipped past my lips. JJ shushed me almost immediately, “People are looking. We can’t have them thinking we’re together.”

I pulled away, trying to keep a straight face at his antics. “We are together.”

“Shit, we are?” He held out his hand, amusement and mischief dancing in his eyes. “My sugar mama can’t find out or she’ll cut me off.”

How could I not love him when he made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt?

I hit his arm with my purse in mock outrage before taking his hand while his other touched my bare back. The feel of his rough calloused hands from all his hard work has me suck in a breath. Those rough hard hands knew my body intimately, inside and out. 

“Do that again and I’m finding the nearest bathroom.” JJ leaned down, his lips brushing against the top of my ear. 

A clearing of the throat had us both turning our heads. My father stood there with a stoic face, his eyes promising retribution later. 

Looking at my father directly in the eye, I place my arm in the crook of his, lacing us together. 

“I see you brought a friend.” The last word is spoken with clear disdain. 

My grip on JJ’s arm tightened. “I brought my boyfriend.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” 

As if they’d actually be home, I thought but decided to keep that to myself.

Deciding that this entire conversation was pointless, I was dragging JJ away from the pair when my father grabbed JJ, whispering something in his ear.

My stomach shrunk and apprehension filled me as the light look of JJ’s face fell, replaced with a flat look and hardened eyes. 

“Duly noted, sir.” His mouth curled in a sarcastic snark. 

I shot my father a disappointed look. Curling myself into JJ’s side, my arm wrapped around his waist and I tugged us into the party. “Ignore him, please.”

“Already forgotten, princess.”

My eyes watch his face for any sign of distress, but find nothing. Guilt ebbed aways at my walls.

“Let’s go find Mr. Adams. He owns a chain of surf shops. I’m sure if we schmooze him, we can get you a solid job or maybe even a board.” I tossed him a wink that had him grinning. 

“I like the way you think. Lead the way, gorgeous.”

Despite his hand on my back, all the warmth we had a mere moments ago was gone. I couldn’t help but notice the small distance he kept between us. One that didn’t exist until my father opened his mouth. 

Several hours later, the sun had begun to set and a cool breeze now caressed my bare back. I embraced the cool breeze due to the several glasses of champagne I had. 

Despite my love for the warm buzz it gave me, it did little for my bladder. “I’ll be right back.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t leave me here with these people.”

I smothered my laugh with my hand. “Did you want to come with me?”

“To the bathroom? Kinky, I’m in.” JJ responded, clutching my hand in his before expertly pulling us through the crowd. 

Nothing could peel off the cheesy smile that bore my face. Despite the slight hiccup at the beginning of the night, JJ charmed most of the members with his charm and humor. I was hoping with some networking, I could help JJ get some security. I believed he was capable of doing just about anything. He had such determination and never let failure keep him down. 

JJ knew how to hussle and I wanted everyone to see his potential, even if at times he didn’t see it himself. 

My heels clicked along the granite floor, our hands swinging in the air. A shriek escaped my lips as JJ twirls me around, my dress swishing around my ankles. “Gorgeous.” He puffed out his cheeks, his gaze boring into mine.

Our matching grins were nothing short of radiant. Being with him was easy in a world filled with difficult people. 

“Well this is disgusting.”

JJ went rigid. That wouldn’t have concerned me if he hadn’t muttered panicked curses under his breath. “If someone says one more thing to me..”

JJ never let Rafe intimidate him before but for some reason JJ seemed a little more hesitant with this exchange. Realization dawned on me. The boat. Fuck. 

I let my hands fall while rolling my eyes and turning to face Rafe. There he stood in all his stuck up glory, not a hair out of place and his suit neatly pressed. He looked every bit of a country member as one could possibly be with the light blue suit paired with a white undershirt and blue bow tie, brown dress shoes on his feet. 

“Don’t you have another line to snort?” I asked.

Sure, Rafe was conventionally attractive, if you didn’t pay attention to the blown pupils and the constant brush of his nose or the foggy look in his eyes. 

JJ snickered beside me, his hand softly tapping my ass twice in support. 

“JJ, go get me a drink.” Rafe cocked his head.

“I’m actually a member here now.” JJ responded, his hand caressed my cheek softly.

Shocked painted Rafe’s face. “That’s not poss-”

Kelce and Topper stood beside him, both in colored pressed suits as well. They kind of looked like the-”You powerpuff girls have fun.” JJ said with a crooked smile and a tip of the hat.

He seized me by the wrist and strode over to the exit. Relief at his plan to avoid a fight was fleeting at Rafe’s next words.

“If I knew a trailer home and food stamps was all it took for you to open your legs, I would have tried a long time ago.”

JJ jerked around in seconds, ripping out of my grip. He stalked towards Rafe, drawing his arm back before connecting with his jaw. 

A shout passed my lips, my hands covering my mouth in horror as JJ struck Rafe twice more, one blow hitting him directly on the nose. Blood began to gush out of Rafe’s nose, staining his dress shirt a deep crimson. “Say that shit again. Say it.”

Rafe let out a mirthless laugh, his lips pulled at the sides revealing his red stained teeth. “Once a pogue, always a pogue. Isn’t that right, JJ?”

Kelce jumped into action, his arm wrapping around JJ’s neck, pulling him off a Rafe into an effective headlock. That’s when I noticed two more hulking figures and suddenly we were surrounded. 

“Five on one, Rafe? Really?” JJ choked out, tugging at Kelce’s arm. 

Without thinking, I walked behind Kelce and slammed the metal clasp of the bag against the side of his head. Once. Twice. Three times. “Let go of him!” 

Kelce let out a yelp and jerked back, causing his grip on JJ to loosen just enough for him to get free. I went towards him in an instant, but he pushed me behind him as he surveyed the remaining men in front of us. 

Whispers dragged my attention from the scene in front of me as I locked eyes with several members who had poked their heads into the locker area. Shit, this really wasn’t good. I needed to get JJ out of here as soon as possible. I didn’t want to give my father any more ammunition against him. 

Clutching his arm, I tugged him once more towards the exit. I could hear more activity outside the locker room which had me pulling at him harder. I wasn’t going to let Rafe make him look bad in front of all these influential people. Over my dead body. 

“People are coming. We have to go.”

His chest rose and fell with quick breaths, his steele blue gaze not leaving Rafe’s.

“I’m serious. For me, JJ, please?” My final plea seemed to have pulled him out of his angry haze. Without wasting a second, he let me pull him further and further away from the group. Lacing his hand in mine, I made quick work of fixing his suit and his hair, pressing soft kisses as I went. 

“Whenever you’re done slumming it, you know where I am.” Rafe called out from behind us, earning us enough leers from fellow members. 

He tore his hand from mine. “Fuck this.” 

Apprehension coursed through me.

I could feel the storm brewing with each step he took. I trailed behind, my small steps nothing to his long strides. Rafe hit a nerve. One that JJ refused to acknowledge and let fester for months now. It was the elephant in the room any time I offered to pay anything at all. It bothered him, all the money my family had.

“Ignore him, Jayj.” I called out from behind him but his steps never faltered. “Rafe was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”

I could hear the soft melody of the music drifting over the wind from the party that was supposed to fix all our problems. Perhaps I was sticking a bandaid on a gaping wound. 

His shoulders were tense as he stopped a couple feet in front of me, shaking his head. Nerves had my stomach in knots. I only had one shot at trying to fix this. Feelings were never JJ’s thing. He spent months fighting our attraction before he finally gave in. Dating a Kook was never something JJ considered. 

Unfortunately, it was something others thought as well because they never failed to remind him. My father included. 

So here we are. JJ was backed into a corner and like any wounded animal, he had two choices. He could concede or attack and I knew JJ like the back of my hand. He would never give up, so instead he’d go for the throat. 

Too bad it was my throat he went for. 

“I understand-” I stopped speaking the moment JJ whipped around, his eyes cutting me deeply.

“You don’t.” I didn’t respond. My eyes lingered on his busted lip and bruised chiseled face. “You don’t understand so please don’t try to make me feel better by pretending that you do.” 

I pursed my lips. JJ was right, I didn’t understand what it was like to be in his position, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to take away every ounce of pain if it meant he would be happy. 

“You’re right. But Jayj, it’s Rafe.” I argued softly, not wanting to draw attention to us. “He always says shit like that to rile you up but you’ve never let it bother you before. Why now?”

JJ’s face flushed. “Because he’s fucking right. That’s why it bothers me.”

My lips wobbled and I pressed them together. I had gone out of my way to ensure he’d never feel this way. I guess I failed. 

I moved closer, my steps unsure and clumsy. “You never said anything.”

My hand rested against his chest, and I could feel the familiar pounding of his heart. 

“That’s nothing new.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

That did little to ease the emotional storm brewing within me. Every interaction since he was little was nothing short of violent and negligent. 

He wasn’t used to softness and kindness. We were trying to navigate in uncharted waters but we’re thrown off the boat every time the water got choppy. 

“We can go. Let’s just go, baby. Let me just say bye to my parents-“

“Stop.” He demanded, his tone serve. So unlike JJ. 

I dropped my hand and instead chose to focus on the sound of our breathing. I had to keep my head on straight, because I could tell he was already building up his wall so high, making his fortress impenetrable. 

JJ had never had a consistent thing in his life and I’ll be damned if I let that happen to us. 

Squaring my shoulders back, I faced his heated gaze head on. If he wanted an argument, he’d get one, but we’d both be leaving together. 

I had no intention of going anywhere. 

“Stop?” I echoed, raising my brow.

His eyes were as cold and hard as obsidian. “Yes, stop. How is leaving going to solve any of this?” 

“You’re picking a fight with me for no reason. I’m not the one you’re mad at.”

JJ raked his fingers through the sun bleached golden strands causing them to fall along his forehead. “Maybe I am.”

My eyes widened at his words. What had I done? He’d shared every bit of his world with me and I only wanted to do the same. 

Was that not what people do when they’re in love? Aren’t you supposed to share your interests with your partner and aren’t they supposed to want to know them? 

“For what?” 

He tugged at his shirt collar. “Why am I here?”

My brows furrowed in confusion. Why would he even ask that? 

“Why am I here, at this Midsummer's bullshit?” 

“Because I wanted you to be.” I smoothed out my hair to give my trembling hands something to do. “It’s something that matters to me, it’s not bullshit.”

I had spent months planning this party since my parents were on the board. I wanted everything to be perfect for them and for him. It all seemed silly now. A part of that stung deep in my soul. Bullshit was never a word I used to describe any of the interests he showed me, yet he so easily spouted it at me.

JJ stayed quiet but continued to fidget with the silver ring on his finger. I wanted to close the distance between us but didn’t know how. 

“Don’t let Rafe of all people ruin this. His opinion means nothing.” 

He lifted his chin. “It matters to your dad.”

I barely held back my wince. “He doesn’t get a say in who I date, JJ.”

“Oh, are we lying to each other now?”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Are we going to pretend that you don’t care about what your parents think?”

I took a step back as though he hit me. “Stop talking before you say something you’ll regret.”

“Everything you do is to get their attention. You’d die without their approval.”

In a manner of speaking, he was right. My parents barely paid me an ounce of attention and it was hard not to think it had to do with me. There must have been something wrong with me for my parents to not want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my life trying to live up to their expectations hoping to be the daughter they always wanted, but nothing worked. I couldn’t get them to love me.

And he threw it all in my face.

I stared at him with tears in my eyes, hurt and stricken. 

At the sight of my tears, he looked away with his jaw clenched. 

“Why are you with me?” He hissed, holding out his arms. “It’s not like I can take you to dinner in Paris or buy you the clothes you like so much.”

Insecurity was a cruel thing. It had the power to turn someone as confident and sure as JJ into a puddle of irate nerves. And as his insecurity continued to dig its hooks further into his skin, he continued to rip into me, piece by piece.

“Because I love you. Because you make me laugh.” My voice raised, my hands clenched into fists by my sides. “Where is this coming from?”

Anxiety wound its way up my throat clocking off my air. 

“You’re fucking shoes are four grand. Do you know what I could do with four grand? I could get the power turned on in my house, or better yet, pay for the house.” The look he shot me had me wanting to be six feet under. He’d never looked at me like that before. He made me sound vapid and superficial. Like I didn’t spend most of my time on his side of the island. 

The guilt I felt early came back tenfold. Guilt for my position. Guilt for the money my family had. Guilt for the things I enjoyed buying, both for him and myself. 

Maybe I was just as bad as Rafe. 

Pain sliced my chest as his gaze continued to penetrate me like bullets.

“The other side of the island is starving and everyone here is drinking champagne and gambling a mortgage for fun. It’s disgusting.” JJ began to pace, shaking his head in disbelief. “You had me kissing ass to all these people, and for what? A job? Stop trying to turn me into something that I’m not.”

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “That wasn’t what I was doing. I was trying to open doors for you so you had options. All I wanted was to help give you a fighting chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” The words continued to pelt at me, hitting my heart every time. The pressure in my chest only tightened further.

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the person you love?” My voice shook, matching the trembling of my body. “It never mattered before.”

I'd never been in love before him. I didn't have anything to compare it too since the most affection I get from my parents is a card on my birthday. I thought by doing everything they didn't do for me, supporting and comforting and physical touch, would somehow translate into love.

“Of course it mattered. You’re a fucking Kook.” The raw and angry words seeped into my veins, the audible crack of my heart echoing for all to hear.

My throat constricted. Enough, I couldn’t hear anymore. No, no, no. But JJ seemed to have other plans.

“I mean, I’m standing here in a custom Tom Ford whatever that could have fed me for months. I’m out of my element and it makes my skin fucking crawl. John B is getting sent to CPS and Pope is getting jumped and I’m here at some stupid dinner with the people that did it to him. What does that make me?”

My chest cracked open and my heart caved in. I finally saw the broken boy in front of me. Bruised and broken, completely uncomfortable and unsure of himself. 

“Kiara’s a kook.”

“Kiara’s different and you know that.” It remained unsaid but I knew what he was referring to. Kie was a hippie rich chick who didn’t enjoy all the things I did: designer clothes, luxury dinners, expensive food. In other words, I was a self absorbed kook princess that didn’t care for those around me. 

It didn’t matter that I spent most of the summer with JJ helping him fix homes in the cut. It didn’t matter that I donated to charities or helped send care kits to those on the cut after the hurricane. It didn’t matter that I spent almost all my free time with him and the pogues just as Kiara did. 

To him, I represented everything he hated. It didn’t matter that I loved him so deeply I defied my parents. It didn’t matter that I upended my life and chose to be with him. He could never see past the money, something I had no control over.  

I may have been standing in custom Christian Dior and Jimmy Choo, but I’ve never felt more cheap as JJ continued to cut me down with each word. 

“Do you want me to apologize?” My pulse spiked as a burst of adrenaline had me spouting the truth. “I had just as much a choice of being born on figure eight than you did on the cut.”

He looked at me like he hated me. “I don’t know how we deluded ourselves into thinking this could ever work.”

“You don’t get to stand there and make me feel guilty for who I am. Just because I have money and like nice things, doesn’t make me an asshole. I’ve treated everyone in my life with kindness. Don't group me with them.” 

JJ scoffs, pointing at the crowd on the dance floor. “Them? Them--means your parents, baby”.

“I’ve never treated you less than me.” It was a last ditch effort.

“At least I know what Kook pussy tastes like.” He went for the kill. “Money and daddy issues.”

I stilled. The world stilled. Vicious hurt curled its way into my soul, etching every bit of it until I no longer existed. 

Like I said before, I had no intention of going anywhere. But, I guess to JJ, he always had one foot out the door.

I think I stopped breathing. I blinked at him, hoping cameras would pop out and the whole thing came out as a prank. But, no cameras appeared. 

Just him and I stood, in a field, an arms length apart but a universe away. 

“You don’t mean that.” The words came out strangled. “Take it back.” 

He said nothing. I had to bring a fist to my mouth to try and block out the harsh sob that threatened to escape.

“JJ, please.” I begged, my hands catching his arm. “Let’s just go.”

His normal vibrant eyes regard me coldly, a muscle jumping his jaw. I was drowning in my emotions. Everything had escalated to a level I couldn’t fix, because he wouldn’t let me. The bathroom seemed forever ago in the scheme of things. I can see the battle in his eyes of whether to give into his self destructive behavior or to come back to me. 

Any hope I had of him coming back to me dissolved in a matter of seconds. A security guard came up behind him, gripping JJ by the forearm and tugging us towards the front of the party. My eyes widened in horror as I realized they were going to parade him around in front of everyone which would just humiliate him more.

“Jeez Daryl, could you loosen up your grip,” JJ complained, attempting to jerk out of the large man’s grip. He didn’t so much as flinch at each of JJ’s gripes either.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, "Let him go, Darryl."

Darryl shook his head and gave me an apologetic look. "No can do. Mr. Cameron complained."

JJ Scoffed. “I can let myself out. I have two legs.”

“JJ, please stop.”

“I appreciate the discretion, Daryl.”

He self-destructed right in front of me. JJ grabbed a drink off an unsuspecting member and chugged it down before tossing the glass on the floor.

In the end, JJ was always going to be JJ. I saw the moment he decided to destroy everything we had. It was a slight shift in his body and that penetrating gaze of his hardened into a cruel amusement. JJ shrugged my hand off his, before his eyes flitter across the crowd as though he's looking for someone. Then I watched as they landed on a familiar brunette. 

“Hey, let him go. I’m a member of this club and I invited him.” Kie shouted at Darryl who paused for a brief moment. I could see her parents trying to discreetly get her to stop but Kiara refused. At the sound of her words, an appreciative grin tugged at JJ’s lips.

It didn’t matter that I had said the same thing hours ago. It didn’t matter that I not only defended him but made him a member. I liked shiny flashy things and she didn’t. Apparently, that made her better than me.

“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” He shouted, pointing at where she stood in front of her parent’s. “Pope, you as well, alright?”

I had a disposition for loving people too much, no matter how they treated me. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that I wasn’t presentable. I didn’t care that tears were falling down my face or that my hair was a mess. I didn’t want to be left behind. He promised.

“Let me come-”

Exasperation filled his features. "Take a fucking hint. You can go be with someone like Rafe now. You two belong together."

“Alright, Kie c’mon.” He didn’t spare me a second glance. I had to watch as Kie took off running towards him with Pope in tow. JJ held out his arms to catch her, arms she happily jumped into. John B lets out a humored shout while JJ spins Kiara around and they take off.

Leaving me all by myself. My parents nowhere in sight. 

And suddenly everything hit me at once. My dress was too tight, my heels were pinching at the skin on my feet, the music was too loud, my hair was a mess. Nothing I did was right. Once again, I was left alone. Abandoned by the one person I thought would never leave. All because I loved him too much and he hated everything I couldn’t control.

I stood there, feeling like a silly little girl in a silly little dress I spent hours looking for, urging him to look back. He never did. 

Authors note: I hope I hurt your feelings because I hurt my own writing this :) pls let me know what u think!!! I love hearing from you guys

Tagging my favs: @maybankslover @sipsthecoffee @alyisdead

[visforvengeance]

Hey!

It’s been a minute😭.

However, I have been watching The Bear and loving it. Jeremy is actually the love of my life. But I wrote something for Carmen and I’m feeling iffy about it:

Rue rushed through the door, ignoring everyone except for Carmen. He sat on his bed as he watched his best friend bounce around in his bedroom.

“It’s here! It’s here! It’s here!” She squealed while clutching the unopened envelope to her chest.

Carmen was dreading the day when they received their acceptance letters. He hadn’t told Rue that his college of choice was in New York. He knew that Rue would be attending college in Chicago, but fucking Carmen. He always did have to strive for the best.

He felt like shit, but the pure excitement on Rue’s face was infectious. He couldn’t help his smile as they switched envelopes, now holding each other’s futures in their hands.

“I’ll go first, you ready?” He watched as Rue bit at her nails anxiously, she nodded. Carmen opened the letter, he spared one glance at Rue before he began reading.

“Dear Ms. Winston, I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as an official student of the English Literature and Arts Department…” Rue’s hearing had faded as she allowed the words to process.

When it finally hit her, she rushed into Carmen’s arms. Her tears soaked into the cotton of his shirt but he didn’t let that deter him from telling Rue just how proud he was of her. When they pulled away, he held her face in his hands as she took deep breaths to calm herself down. He looked into her eyes, silently asking if she’s okay. She nodded, looking back into his blue ones.

Rue carefully tore into the letter, her eyes scanned over the paper. The Institute of Culinary Education, 225 Liberty Street, 3rd Floor, New York, NY 10281. New York? No, this can’t be. He’d tell her if he was going to New York, right?

She cleared her throat and began reading, “Dear Mr. Berzatto, we are very pleased to offer you admission into The Institute of Culinary Arts.” Her throat ran dry as she read. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied for New York?”

“You’re the one who told me not to tell you,” he huffed, suddenly feeling defensive at his lack of mentioning.

“It’s fucking New York, Carmen! I meant don’t fucking tell me if it was in the goddamn state. I thought that was obvious. Why there, anyway?”

He felt strings tugging at his heart as her voice cracked. Why did he choose New York? A 944 mile drive away from his home? His family? From Rue? When making his decision, Rue was the last thing on his mind at the time. Mikey not allowing him to work at the family restaurant really fucked with Carmen’s nerves.

Lack of communication led to him believing that his brother thought he wasn’t good enough. So, Carmen figured “maybe if I go to this prestigious school and become the world’s greatest chef, he’ll think I’m good enough then.” 15 year old Carmen had made up his mind, everything else be damned. But, nothing would prepare him for the moment it came time to tell his best friend that he was leaving her.

“It’s the best culinary school in the state,” Rue felt sad. She felt fucking elated that Carmen was getting into the school of his dreams, but it being 14 hours away was breaking her heart. She didn’t want to make him feel bad or ruin this moment, but the way she could feel herself start to sweat was overwhelming.

Rue decided to drop it. She feared he would think she was clingy and she’d anger him. Rue willed her tears to dry and quickly smiled. “I’m so proud of you,” Rue was genuinely so proud of Carmen. She wanted nothing more than for him to succeed. If him succeeding meant she had to cheer him on from Chicago, then she’d do it proudly.

Carmen could feel the sadness radiating from Rue. He knew what she was doing. The switch from being on the verge of tears to smiling brightly, that was a reaction he’d seen far more than he liked. Being the reason wasn’t something he liked too much, either. But, when she said that she was proud of him, he believed her. He always believed her.

How are we feeling about it? Are the vibes impeccable? I’ve been wanting to make this a series also. And if this doesn’t get the kind of response I want and you actually do want to read it, then it will be posted on my Ao3 soon.

Here’s the link to my Ao3 profile!

[visforvengeance]

Pretty on your Knees (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jordan adores how submissive, pliant, and beautiful you are when your knees are bruised and your mouth is stretched wide around them.

Tags: smut, mature, Jordan is a bit possessive and toxic (but its sexy as tho), masculine Jordan Li

Word Count: ~300 (?)

Jordan Li standing up, your lips wrapped around their cock while their hand combs through your hair. They’re fucking your mouth, slowly and tauntingly. Both to edge themselves and you. You now you can’t get off until they’re done. You’re obedient. Such a good girl, letting them use you like this after a hard day of school. They know the floor is hurting your knees, but you like that, don’t you? You love pretending that you’re innocent. You walk around in short skirts and even shorter dresses and expect them not to want to fuck you senseless the moment they get you alone? They start to fuck your throat harder, now. You’re making the prettiest of gagging noises and your eyes are spewing tears as you swallow their cock down your greedy throat.

“You like this?” They ask. It’s a rhetorical question. You both know you love it.

They’re so close. They want to finish with their load all over your pretty skin. You want it just as much as they do.

With two harsh thrusts, they’re pulling out of your mouth and jerking their cock over your face. Thick spurts of cum land on your cheeks, lips, and chin. Your bare chest is heaving from the sudden exposure to more oxygen. Your breasts get covered, too. Jordan couldn’t leave those out of the mix.

They’re pulling you off your knees and kissing you deeply.

“You did so well for me, pretty,” they’d mumble against your glossy, cum-coated lips, “It’s your turn now, yeah?”