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#but i never manage to get there it always feels like too much to ask for and too much to take.. ah. well its okay really
silent-stories · 3 days
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𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓
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Pairing: JJ x Reader
Summary: lying in bed with jj, you see the bruises on his stomach.
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"You know that you snore?" You ask the boy lying in your bed, next to you, one arm under the pillow and the other thrown lazily around your waist.
That morning, it's hot in your room, but it's not the unbearable hot of the days that makes you want to rip off your skin and find a place with free air conditioning, but the heat that makes you want to stay in bed late before having a cold coffee and go for a walk by the sea with your favorite person.
The sun's rays filter through the open window and in the distance you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the reef.
A soft chuckle escapes JJ's parted lips as a pair of ocean-colored eyes meet yours. "Good morning to you too." His voice is husky but his tone is clearly amused, his hair messy.
It is indeed, a good day, when you wake up in your bed with him next to you but that would be too cheesy to say so early in the morning.
You can't help but smile and before you know it he has you pushed against him and his lips are on yours.
He always tastes like weed, alcohol and the sea.
As he wrap his arm around your waist, the sheet slides off his body, revealing his bare chest and your gaze falls on the bruises on his rib cage, like it did the night before. This time, however, you can't help but observe the dark blue and purple marks on his skin for more than a few seconds.
He looks at you for a moment after breaking the kiss, noticing what caught your attention and with a huff, he drops onto the bed next to you. The matress springs make a slight creak.
"Don't." He says.
"What?"
"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." His eyes are fixed on the ceiling.
You slowly reach out, your fingertips grazing his stomach, delicately tracing the soft outlines of the bruises there.
"I fell, I-"
"Yeah. I know" You want to be mad because he persists in not opening up to you but the look into his eyes lost in the void stops you every time.
You both know you're lying and you both know the other is doing the same.
"You know you can stay here right? Whenever you want."
Your tone is soft as you ask that, turning towards him, resting your elbow on the mattress and settling your head on your hand, looking at his profile: the shape of his lips, the blue of his eyes in the sunlight streaming through the window, a few strands of blonde hair falling on his forehead.
"If... you have any kind of problem, you're welcome here. Any time of the day or night, Jay. You know that, right?"
You only realize you're still tracing imaginary patterns on his skin when you feel his fingers meet yours, his hand on his stomach to find yours and lace your fingers together.
When he finally turns his head towards you, there's a slight smile on his lips and it's not his usual sarcastic smirk or the grin he shows to John B when he is talking about Sarah or when he manages to escape from a cop. It's softer, more sincere.
"I know."
You stare into his clear eyes for a moment and decide to believe him.
You sigh, “okay.”
You don't know how much your offer means to him, you don't know that every other girl he's laid in bed with in the past never cared about a busted lip or a scratch on an arm unless it was ruining his pretty face.
You don't know that if he had been any other girl that morning he wouldn't have stayed in your bed but would have left before the sun even rose.
With you it was different. You cared. And for the first time, he cared too.
Your room wasn't like his house or even like the chateau. It was becoming his favorite place so quickly that it almost amazed him.
And you were becoming his favorite person, but that didn't surprise him that much.
It was getting impossible not to love the sound of your laughter and the way you could reassure him with a simple touch.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You smile and reach out to brush the blonde hair out of his eyes.
His hand was still holding yours.
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i-yap · 3 days
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Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)
( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)
Dick grayson -
opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .
Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.
You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.
But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.
It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.
When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline
Jason todd
he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange
till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.
Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.
He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.
When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely
Tim drake
he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?
He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.
If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.
Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.
" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"
He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.
AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more
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weird-is-life · 3 days
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hello! how’s your day?i hope it’s great
can i request something like childhood friend!reader x spencer reid to lover? i love that trope and i always imagine spencer reid in it
perhaps they’ve met again on the case and reader was the victim?
it’s totally fine if you can’t wrote that, have a great day!<3
Hiii lovely🥰, ty so much for this request! I loooved writing this trope. Warnings: like one swear word, little angsty, fluff, pet names, use of y/n, mentions of food, mentions of crime (1.5k)
Spencer and you met by accident after so many years. Spencer couldn't believe his eyes as he saw you walk out of the interrogation room at the Bau.
He didn't understand what his childhood best friend was doing at his workplace office.
Seeing your sorrow expression he didn't need anything else to know that you were one of the many witnesses of the latest series of violent bank robberies.
And it made his heart stop for a second. Wanting to meet you...-wanting to see you again after so many years was always somewhere deep at the back of his mind, but he didn't exactly want to see you walk out out of the interrogation room.
He freezed for a moment. He wasn't expecting to see you there, and it definitely caught him off guard.
You, on the other hand, hoped you'd run into Spencer that day. You knew he worked for the FBI. You maybe even secretly hoped that he'd be the one you'd have to explain what exactly had happened at the bank.
He didn't. So finally seeing him managed to bring a smile to your upset face.
You ignored his lovely colleague Emily as she instructed you on something, and headed straight towards Spencer.
"Spencer, hi, I can't believe it's you," you said breathlessly as you neared him, his eyes scanning you intensively.
Spencer swallowed hard. You two were just some kids the last time you saw each other, but right now....Right now, Spencer couldn't believe his eyes. You might have just been the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.
His shock was even bigger when you threw your arms around his neck, and hugged him sincerely. Spencer, for once, managed to handle the shock, and hugged you back.
It was an effort for you not to end up on the floor from the way your legs almost turned into a jello. When the fuck did Spencer get so hot? That was the only thing on your mind, even the horrors of the roberry gone.
"Hi, it's been so long, too long," Spencer beamed at you, giving you one-over one more time.
"I know," you gave him a small smile," I wanted to reach out to you since I'd moved here a few months ago, but I didn't want to intrude into your life."
"Intrude? You could never," Spencer immediately reassured you, and you didn't look too convinced," seriously, I mean it."
You just nodded, and Spencer asked you, "How have you been? Were-were you a part of some roberry?"
"Y-yeah, it...it wasn't very pretty, I-" you tried to find the right words, but you realised that there were multiple sets of eyes on you and Spencer. He realised it, too.
With his quick thinking, he said, "I'm sorry, my friends can be really nosy," he glared at somebody (Derek) as he said it," would you..- are you hungry?"
"There's a cafeteria a few floors down.....We could talk there? Catch up on everything?" Spencer proposed with a little hope.
"Yeah, I think, I'd like that," you told him, and you let him guide you towards the elevator with his hand on your lower back.
It definitely did not send butterflies down to your belly with every step you took. The old, forgotten feelings flickering inside you both.
-
That happened a few months ago now, and you couldn't help but to smile as you remembered the meeting while waiting in a small caffè for Spencer to come.
He is running late. You don't mind the wait because you know it's not his fault. His job isn't easy. So waiting the few minutes is worth it.
You and Spencer have been going on these coffee......runs since you've reunited the few months ago. But you keep hoping, wishing that they will turn into coffee dates rather just some friendly coffee runs.
It's save to say that seeing Spencer after so many years made some new feelings surface. Feelings that weren't there before, and you don't know what to do with them.
Well, you do, but you're terrified of the idea of Spencer's rejection. You don't think you'd be able to live in the same city as him if he indeed did reject you.
But you can't keep going out with him, and have him smiling at you like like you're the only person on this earth for him. You just can't keep up with it anymore.
You've decided that today is the day you tell him how you feel. No matter what. Even if it's most likely going to leave you heartbroken.
Spencer pulls you out of your thoughts when he rounds the table you sit at, and leans down to give you a quick hug and a kiss......a kiss on a cheek.
It leaves you breathless, and it's exactly why you need to tell him about your feelings because this is just cruel, sweet torture you can't endure any longer.
"Hi, I'm so sorry I'm late. Hotch had us hand in all of the reports, so I needed to finish a few things," he tells you as he settles in the seat opposite of you.
His coffee is already waiting on the table in front of him, and he gives you a thankful nod.
"It's okay, Spence. I don't mind," you give him a tight smile, the nerves rushing through your body.
Spencer, damn his profiling skills, immediately senses that something is off. "What's wrong?" He reaches across the table for your hand, but you pull it away quickly. You could swear that there was a hurt in his eyes just as you did.
"I-....I need to tell you something," you quickly blurt out.
"You can tell me anything, yeah?" He assures you. This time without trying to touch your hand. You don't look into his eyes while he tries to catch your gaze.
"I can't keep going for a coffee with you anymore."
Spencer now definitely looks hurt after your first sentence, and you cringe. You didn't mean to start like that.
"Shit," you curse quietly," what I mean to tell you is that.......is that-." You can't find the right words.
"I like you, Spencer," you blurt out," mo-more than just a friend." Spencer just looks at you. Completely baffled, and he doesn't utter a single word.
You think he's just a little shocked, but as the minutes go by, and he still doesn't say anything, you understand. He doesn't feel the same, and then there's horror in your eyes.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Spencer," you scramble quickly to take all your stuff," I'm really sorry." And with that, you are out of there faster than a lightning.
You swiftly run out of the caffè as the tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You don't even know where you are going, but you don't care you just want to get as far away from Spencer as possible.
Of course, you don't even take 30 steps before a hand gently catches you by your elbow. You, even just by the touch of his hand, know that it's Spencer.
"Wait," he pleads," please, y/n." You stop, and slowly you turn around. Spencer scans your upset face, the tears on your cheeks, and his own heart breaks.
He didn't mean to stay quiet like that. It just...-It caught him off guard. He wasn't, even in his wildest dreams, thinking of you actually liking him back. Like there wasn't a single reality where he saw that happening. And yet.... And yet, you like him, and he can't believe it.
"It's okay, Spence," you start.
"But it's not, I'm sorry-"
You interrupt him, "I understand that you don't feel the same."
"No, no, sweetheart. I do. I feel exactly the same way you do," he confesses softly, hoping you believe his words after the initial mess up of his.
"Spencer, you don't have to lie....-"
Spencer almost looses it when you say that, because he could never be that cruel to you. Never. And he doesn't get why you don't believe him, so he does something that hopefully will finally let you see the truth.
Spencer kisses you.
Spencer kisses you?
What?
You don't really realise it, until he's pulling away, sorry eyed, his soft, warm lips immediately something you miss. You don't let him get far away from your lips as you crash them again against his. Your one hand goes into his hair, and his hair is just as soft to the touch as it looks like.
Spencer's kiss is intense and gentle at the same time, and it makes your knees buckle, maybe just from the sheer joy of your feelings being reciprocated. You tighten your grip on his shoulder.
Spencer notices it, smiling into the kiss, before he pulls away. There's a happy glint in his eyes, and you are sure yours look the same.
Spencer beams at you. "I'd never lie to you. Ever."
"I know."
You smile sheepishly at him, "I just got too into my head to listen to you. I'm sorry."
"I'm not," Spencer looks at you amused. Right. Of course, he's not sorry about the kiss. And neither are you, you could never be.
Spencer offers you his hand," how about I'll tell you all about how crazy I feel about you while we go for a walk?"
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot, Spencer." The bright smile doesn't leave your or even Spencer's face as you begin to walk.
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itneverendshere · 3 days
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school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)
warnings: smart!reader (doesn't take shit) x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; mentions of sex but no actual p in v okay; this shit is football and y'all can argue with a wall <3 IT PAINS ME TO WRITE SOCCER Y'ALL BETTER APPRECIATE IT !!!
ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)
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you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.
what’s the point? okay, your school as incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?
the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.
up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him. the veridic? total pain in your fucking ass.
ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him. outrageous, never done before. for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.
wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.
not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“
“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”
“just soccer?”
you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”
"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"
you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.
“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."
you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”
pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.
“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.
“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."
you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.
“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"
“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“
you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”
“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”
you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”
your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."
you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"
pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”
your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”
rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.
“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”
“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”
you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.
pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”
you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”
pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”
your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.
"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"
he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”
“seriously?”
pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”
your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.
“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”
he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”
you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”
he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."
you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."
he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."
you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."
it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?
“the ball’s in your court.”
yeah it is.
truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.
at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.
so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.
but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.
you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.
you had pope for that.
which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.
a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.
taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.
the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.
you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.
there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.
“hey?”
“you look like shit, cameron.”
rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”
you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”
rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”
you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.
there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.
"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”
rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."
he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”
"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."
“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”
rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"
"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”
you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.
and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.
“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”
rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.
“why are you mad at me?”
you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.
"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"
he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”
rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
that’s it.
you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.
“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”
for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.
“and you want to fuck me?”
you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.
“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”
"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”
rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”
“yes or no.”
rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”
“okay. so win your next match and you will.”
he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”
“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”
"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”
you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."
rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."
“i figured.”
he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”
you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”
rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."
you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.
rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.
“just win the fucking match, cameron."
rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
"consider it done."
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poppy-metal · 2 days
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patrick has young gf! reader watch his old games with him. pulls her close to him and traces her skin. his hand on her thigh as he prods her about what she's thinking. it starts out innocently enough, asking her how she thought his playing. how he looked during the match. slowly the questions start to lean more towards art - did you like him? did he play better? did you notice how he looked? the questions slowly turn into stories of their past. talks about how big art is, how he taught him how to use it, how to touch himself - just like he did you - and more. gets you all wound up because he needs to see it. needs to see that you'll easily accept art into your orbit once patrick manages to snag him again. he needs to see that you want art as much as he does. 
it's the opposite with divorced dilf! art and his girlfriend though. he sees you one day rewatching his old games and is excited to talk about them. usually, he wouldn't want to relive that part of him. losing excitement for tennis over the years due to all the stress but with you it's different. you look at him so earnestly and seem in awe of all his games, even the ones where he can still hear tashi in his head telling him what he did wrong. but it doesn't feel the same when he finds you watching one of patrick and him. jealousy quickly bubbles up inside him as worried thoughts start to come through. what if you think patrick is better? what if you enjoy watching him? what if patrick somehow takes this from him too? so when he sinks beside you on the couch you can see and feel the difference. he's not wearing his usual excited smile, his hand grips your thigh more firmly than usual, and there's a certain look in his eye. he tells you he doesn't want you watching patrick or any of his past games with them. it doesn't take much for you to agree. 
-☕(also i am honored to have inspired the post and i do remember the dark days where we had a text limit lol)
its so different because patrick its a turn on - he wants you to tell him how hot you find his friend while your pussy bounces on his dick. "you're so fucking greedy. this pussy just wants dick, huh -" he doesn't consider it a threat at all, knows by the squeeze of your cunt and the way you'd rather drink his cum down than water, you're not going anywhere, so if you want to fantasize about his good ol' buddy back in the day, go ahead. you just have to warm his big cock while you do it.
and art.... well his inadequacy issues are never leaving. though you can't help the way you like the way art fucks you when hes jealous. especially where patrick is concerned - he makes you turn the match off and then he turns you over, bends you over the armrest and pushes in - hard and hot - fucks you like he's punishing you, with thunderous slams of his hips against your ass. hand fisted in your hair, "tell me how much you love this -" there's a hint of desperation behind it, a plead more than a command. its easy to reassure him, moaning your assent, yes you love this, you love him, you love it so much art, you love his fat cock in your little pussy - where patrick is concerned, against his better judgment, art always rises to the competition.
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mrm0rgansw0man · 2 days
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hi !! can i have a more angsty arthur fic of the reader admiring him from afar and wanting to give him all the love he’s deserving of but feels she doesn’t have the chance to ? :)))) happy ending would be nice maybe arthur reads a note of hers !
god i love writing angst. LETS DO THISSS
hope you enjoy!! Xx @risingtripletaurus
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I can let you down, I can make you Hurt.
Bitter, freezing cold. That was all you felt. Just the cold and the ache in your heart. Your whole chest ached, from the cold or from the emotions you were feeling you didn't know.
This whole Blackwater fucked up mess was just what you needed. You had already been struggling, being new to the gang and trying to help out and earn your keep. And, not only that, but Arthur Morgan hated you. You were sure of it, you had no clue what you did to offend him but just until right before this mess he started pulling away from you.
He was always friendlier with all the women of the camp, but you and him had taken a liking to each other. But one day, it just stopped. The hellos. The cups of coffee he'd bring you every morning. The shared cigarettes. The random talks, it was so nice. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. You though he could be falling for you too, but looks like you were wrong. You knew it was too good to be true.
"You're so down." Charles said simply. You looked up at him, not even having noticed he came into the cabin you had been sitting in.
"I can practically feel it in the air around you." He continued. Your eyes flit away from him and back to the floor. You watched a few snowflakes melt into your boots.
"Why do you care?" You asked quietly. "I'm sure you've got much better things to worry about than my problems."
Charles shrugged. "Just wanted you to know I'm here if you want to talk. I'm not doing much lately, cause of this hand. So I've noticed more."
Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away before you thought Charles could notice. But he still did.
"I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you, (Name)." Charles said. His voice more stern now. "Ask anyone, it feels like and looks like, no offense, that the life has been drained out of you."
"It's jus' the cold..." You mumbled. "I'm fine Charles.."
"You know, I was sitting in this cabin with you for hours. You didn't move once. You didn't even know I was here, did you? And Abigail came in to try and talk to you, but it was like you were in a whole different world."
Uh oh. Fuck. He's got you there. You didn't even know Charles had come in, let alone Abigail.
"Have you ever had to love someone from a distance Charles?" You asked weakly. You finally lifted your head enough to meet his eyes.
"No." Charles said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine it's a great feeling."
"It's not." You said with a sniffle. "Not at all."
"Can I ask who it is?" Charles asked you cautiously.
You let out a choked cry. You took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself together. It was getting harder and harder by the second. God dammit Charles why do you have to care?
"Arthur." You whispered, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. "It's Arthur."
Charles didn't say anything, he only nodded. So you kept talking.
"He was so kind to me when I first started riding with you. We got on real well too." You said, finally starting to weep. Who cares anyways? "I started falling for him. Quick and hard, and could you blame me?"
"No, I was convinced he was sweet on you." Charles admitted. Though all it did was send more tears floding out of your eyes.
"He'd bring me coffee in the mornings. We'd talk. He always said Hi to me at the very least when we crossed paths." You said softly. "And he made sure I was eatin'- I mean you know how I was when I first got here."
"Always sick and thin as paper." Charles said grimly, having been on of the few people that helped take care of you during that hard time.
"Neither of us sleep very well, he'd come find me or I'd go find him. We had such nice talks on those nights, he opened up to me. Like really, really opened up to me. And I opened up to him too." You continued, your cries becoming harder and your voice rising.
"I don't know what I did!" You cried. "But one day it all just stopped! He wouldn't talk to me, he hasn't even looked me in the eyes Charles! I don't know what's wrong with me! I just want to love him!"
"Oh (Name)..." Charles started, but you cut him off.
"He deserves so much Charles!" You sobbed. "He is such a good man, no matter what he says when he looks in the mirror! I just want to love him, he doesn't even need to love me back! Do you know how pathetic that is? How disgustingly pathetic I am to love him like this!?"
You inhaled and exhaled at a frantic pace, running your hands over your tear soaked face. It was too much. You couldn't breathe. You wrapped your arms around yout face and buried yourself in your knees. Charles rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and just stayed there, giving you something to hang onto. Keeping you grounded.
You finally lifted your head and met Charles's eyes, only to find them already locked on you.
"I just want to love him. T-that is all I w-want." You managed to get out between sobs. "And now I've lost m-my chance! I can't keep going like this Charles! He's- he's been through so much. That poor man has suffered and s-suffered and I just want t-to make him feel like he deserves something!"
"Arthur-"
"Needs me! And I need him to need me because look how badly I need him! If he doesn't love me the-then what am I supposed to do?!"
You broke apart, sobbing harder than you were before. Probably harder than you have ever cried in your life. Charles caught you, and he wrapped his arms around you. He let you sob and scream into his chest until you couldn't breathe.
"I just want a chance I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!" Was all you could say, over and over again. Charles rocked you back and fourth, letting you cry yourself out. It took at least an hour, but eventually your cries had lulled to a stop.
Once your breath had returned to normal, Charles spoke.
"I'm going to go get Miss Roberts and Miss Gaskill. They'll take care of you. I'm going to talk to Arthur, don't you worry about this for another second." Charles said soothingly. It was all you could do to nod a yes at him. He pulled away from you, but right as he was about to reach the door you called out for him.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" You asked horsely. Charles looked back at you and gave you a small smile.
"First of all, I like you. Quite a bit, your a good person (Name)." He said simply. "And secondly, you haven't moved from that spot for over a day and you haven't even noticed. Someone needed to do something."
And with that, he left. You sat in silence until Abigail and Mary-Beth showed up. They tried to talk with you but you didn't have the strength to even reply to them. They accepted this, and helped you to your room and laid you down in your cot.
You laid there for what felt like hours, completely lost in thought.
"Glad to see your feelin' better, Miss." Arthur said, handing you a tin cup filled with scalding hot coffee. You took it gratefully.
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." You said with a smile. "I've got to say I'm liking your company more and more each morning you visit me."
"Oh don't be too flattered, your jus' the only one up as early as me." Arthur said with a smirk, playfully elbowing you in the side. You chucked and hoped Arthur didn't see the blush spreading across your face.
"Well a girl can dream!" You said, that same flirty smirk crossing your face.
"Arthur! I need to talk to you!" Dutch called.
Arthur groaned in annoyance. He turned to leave, but at the last moment he turned back. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.
"Meet me at the campfire tonight. We never get t' talk without gettin' bothered." Arthur said. You nodded your head happily as he turned to leave, running of to do whatever the hell Dutch wanted him for.
You felt yourself smiling at the memory, even if it was just a weak one.
That night at the campfire was the first of many, you two met every night you could. And that was when you truly began to fall for Arthur, those nights by the burnt out campfire. The last night it happened, you told him about your life before joining the gang, and why you were so sick when you first arrived.
"No one in my family was right." You said with a deep sigh. "My daddy hung himself in our living room right before my mama had me. And since then she just never had any happy in her head."
"Jesus.." Arthur mumbled. "Was your Mama good t'you, at least?"
"Pfft, no!" You said with a laugh. You took another swig of whiskey from the bottle Arthur stole from Pearson for you. "Beat me halfway to hell every other day. I think she had some disease. Think I might have it too, honest to god."
"D'ya really think that?" Arthur asked, taking a swig of his own whiskey bottle.
"I jus' get so low sometimes.. Not enough happy in my own head." You said sadly. "Not something I can really help, but it happens. Part of the reason I was so sick when I first got here, that and being out in the elements."
"What a woman you are, Miss. (Name)!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Survivin' yer' Mama, survivin' runnin' away into the wild, and survivn' yourself!"
Arthur and you spent a lot of time talking about your past life that night, so much time you had finished that whole bottle of whiskey. Bittersweet tears filled your eyes as you remembered what happened next.
You stood up from the ground, and wobbled your way over Arthur and poked him in the chest.
"Tell me, Mr. Morgan!" You slurred. "What have you survivedddd?"
"Oh sweetheart, we ain't got time for that tonight." He said, shaking his head at your drunken boldness.
"Pleaseeee Arthurr??" You whined, a wrong step sending you tumbling down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, and you smiled happily. It was a giddy childlike smile that Arthur would never forget.
Arthur had no idea what possessed him to do so, but he gulped down the last of his whiskey and started talking.
"My mama died when I was real young..." Arthur said, his voice going quiet. "My daddy was a thief, a petty one at that.. Wasn't even a real father. He wasn't good t'me at all. The lawmen got him when I was jus' eleven."
" 'M so sorry Arthur..." You said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tight. He rested his chin on your head and returned the hug, god it was so nice to be held like this. To be able to feel freely.
Arthur had no clue why he was so drawn to you from the very start, but ever since he first laid his eyes on you he couldn't get enough. He knew he was a goner, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him. Hell, sitting here like this with you terrified him! But even with the fear in the back of his mind, he could feel the whiskey clouding his thoughts and what little remained of the walls he so constantly put up crumbling.
Arthur went on about his family for a bit, and then told you all about getting taken on by Dutch and Hosea. He told you about what a deliquent he was, told you about when they brought John in. And Miss. Tilly. Then he told you all about a girl named Mary Linton, and about the love they used to share. You listened intently to every word, even in your drunken state. You prayed to whatever god above that you remembered this all tomorrow.
"I had a boy once." Arthur said, after a long stretch of silence. "His name was Issac. He passed on, though."
"Oh Arthur." You whispered, finding his hand and holding it tight. "I'm so sorry!"
"Some bastards killed him 'nd his Mama. Eliza." Arthur said, his voice breaking. "Shot 'em. All for a measly ten dollars."
"What is wrong with this world.." You murmred. Arthur just shook his head.
"I wasn't there f'him much. I shoulda been a better father to my little boy..." Arthur mumbled, his words starting to slur. "I was good to them when I was 'round, but that doesn't make up for nothin'. I'm a horrible person, (Name)."
You sat up, moving your legs around Arthur so you were straddling him. You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
"Did you love his Mama? Did you treat her well?" You asked fiercely.
Arthur nodded his head frantically. The change in you startled him.
"Did you play with your boy? Did you hold him? Did you tell him stories, or sing him to sleep?" You pressed on, even with the tears forming in Arthur's eyes.
"Y-Yes!" Arthur said, stumbling over his words. "He was small, but he still liked to run. He liked being held-"
Arthur stopped, a strangled cry escaping his throat. You took your hands off of Arthur's face and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms back around you, burying his face in your hair and neck. Arthur thought that he should want to leave, but he realized he'd rather be buried alive then leave your arms right now.
"His favorite was 'Hush Little Baby'" Arthur said softly, you could feel the tears falling from his eyes now. "I was so happy to sing it to him the last time I...."
You sat up- which scared the wits out of Abigail and Mary-Beth-and covered your eyes. Trying to block out the image of what came soon after that.
The comfort you brought Arthur. The way he held your face in his hands. The kiss, so passionate. You both tasted of lust, whiskey, and pain. It was a fiery mix of emotions that sent you both stumbling into his cot and ripping off each other's clothes.
And then he wanted nothing to do with you.
"Honey? What's wrong?!" Abigail said, she wrapped her arm around you and Mary-Beth took your hands off of your face and held them.
Charles had given them a brief explanation of what had happened, but they were anxious for him to get back. They wanted to know what Arthur had to do with you being in an absolute state. They sent each other worried glances.
"When will Charles be back?" You asked with a sniffle. You leaned into Abigail and held Mary-Beth's hands tighter.
"Shouldn't be much longer, I promise honey." Abigail said.
"Want to tell us what's wrong?" Mary-Beth asked softly, she was testing the waters.
You looked between your two friends, and smiled weakly. God, you loved them so much.
"Okay."
»»———-  ———-««
"Arthur? Are you here?" Charles called out before going right into Arthur's room.
Charles found Arthur sitting on the edge of his cot. He was reading a letter.
"What is it, Charles?" Arthur said, still not looking up from the paper in his hands. Arthur didn't even seem like he was listening to Charles.
"Put that down. I need to talk to you." Charles said, his voice becoming more serious.
Arthur re-read the words written on the paper one last time before looking up at Charles.
'Arthur, please tell me whatever I did. I just want to talk to you again. Please, just talk to me whenever you read this. Your true friend, (Name)'
"You know, (Name) isn't doing good. She's been sitting in the corner of her room, curled up. Not moving, not talking. Nothing." Charles said simply.
Arthur's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Charles continued.
"I sat there with her for hours, and she didn't move a muscle. I watched Abigail come in and try and talk to her, but it was like she was talking to a wall." Charles said. "And that was after Molly had tried to talk to her for hours the night before. She's the one who came and got me."
"Is..is she alright?" Arthur asked, his nerves evident in his voice. He knew this was his fault. He could feel it in his bones. Oh god, he was a fucking idiot,
"No! She's not alright!" Charles snapped. "She barely even looks human! When I finally got through to her all she could do was cry! And she was crying about you!"
"No.." Arthur said softly. "Where is she now? I need to go see her-"
"You can go see her when we're done here." Charles said sternly. "Arthur, did you know she was in love with you?"
Arthur ran a hand over his face. Oh great, now he'd really done it.
'I'm such a piece of shit..' Arthur thought to himself. 'God.. Oh my god..'
"No." Arthur said. "I jus' thought... I don't know what I thought! I jus' didn't think she loved me."
"I just want to love him. He doesn't even need to love me back." Charles said with a sigh. "That's what she said to me, while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. And then 'I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!'"
"I get yer' point!" Arthur shouted. "Jesus christ..."
"She's broken. Between having to be here, the whole mess in Blackwater and you completely disregarding her, she is broken." Charles said.
"I KNOW GOD DAMMIT I GET IT!" Arthur shouted, standing up from his cot. Charles stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. He had said his part, now it was Arthur's turn to speak.
"Does.. Does she really love me?" Arthur asked weakly, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Charles nodded. " I thought she was just' sweet on me a little bit, I thought I was jus' sweet on her.."
"Do you feel different now?" Charles asked. When he joined this gang, he never expected this would be the role he took on. Oh well.
Arthur stilled for a moment. He knew how he felt about you. But how could he even say it out loud, knowing how love had turned out for him in the past?
Mary had to leave him. Her father hated him because of his life as an outlaw.
His love for Eliza and his child only got them shot.
How could he condemn you, someone who has suffered and suffered, to a life with him? He wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved, protected, and cared for. He wanted to hold you like he did that night, to keep you close. To kiss away all your pain and never let you feel like you don't deserve it. Because you deserved the world, Arthur just didn't think he could give it to you.
And he was scared. He was so scared, so instead of being a decent fucking human he ran. And now look at what he did to you. Sent you right back to that dark part of your mind where you never wanted to be stuck in again.
"Yes." Arthur said finally. "But, how could I even try anythin' with her? I don't want nothin' happening to her cause of me! She deserves so much more than I can give her!"
"Arthur, I don't think you understand." Charles said with a deep sigh. "She doesn't want more! She isn't expecting anything of you! All she wants is. you."
"Why does this matter to you anyways! Who are you, t'come in here and talk t'me about this!" Arthur spat. "You have no right-"
"Yes I do!" Charles said, his voice rising. "I took care of (Name) when she first joined us, so I'll continue to take care of her now! She can't function! She needs you, Arthur! And I have a feeling you need her too."
Arthur stood there, glaring at Charles. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream foul things at him, for getting into his head like that. But he also wanted to thank him. For being there for you while he failed miserably.
"Figure it out. And then you go see her." Charles said coolly. "Don't go see her like this, she's not strong enough."
Charles left, Arthur's cold stare practically ushering them out the door. Arthur stood there for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do with himself. Charles had sent his mind reeling.
He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how sorry he is. Tell you that he loved you so much but he got scared, and instead of facing it like a man he ran like a boy. He never wanted to hurt you, but look how bad you were hurting now!
You loved him. And he loved you, but Arthur ran away and now would you ever be able to forgive him? He hadn't even told you he loved you! Arthur was sure he had already ruined everything. Not to mention the two of you slept together, which Arthur didn't even know if you knew it happned or not you were both so god damn drunk!
Arthur sat down and sighed. He took out the letter you left for him to find. He read it again, only this time he stopped over a certain line.
"Just talk to me."
It echoed in his mind. Arthur could practically hear your voice, begging him to talk to you. And he knew what he had to do. Arthur folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his pocket, before placing his hat back on his head. He made a beeline for the hut you were staying in with Molly.
»»———-  ———-««
You had just finished telling your sob story to Abigail and Mary-Beth when Charles returned, not even giving them a moment to react.
You didn't even look up at him when he came back, feeling so weak having to relive what happened with Arthur yet again.
"He's coming. I don't know when, he needed to collect himself. But he'll be here to see you, (Name)." Charles said softly. You nodded, reminding yourself to go and thank him properly when you were better.
"Miss Roberts, Miss Gaskill, please stay with her until Arthur gets here." Charles asked them. Of course they agreed. And then Charles left, god he needed a drink.
Abigail and Mary-Beth stay there with you, wrapped up in blankets in your cot. It was a comforting couple of minutes of silence before Arthur practically broke the door down and rushed into your room. Abigial and Mary-Beth said some hurried goodbyes to you before rushing out of the room.
You knew Arthur was there, but you couldn't look at him. You continued to lay down on your cot, wrapped up in blankets and facing the wall.
Arthur looked at you for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and starting to speak.
"(Name)" Arthur said softly. "Can I uh.. May I sit with you?"
You rolled over slowly, and forced yourself to meet Arthur's eyes. They looked just as broken as yours did when you looked in the mirror. You nodded yes weakly, and Arthur sat down on your cot next to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes. Arthur saw the tears flowing from them.
"I'm so sorry honey." Arthur said with a shaky sigh. "I should never have pushed you away like that."
"You fucked me." You spat, opening your eyes to look at him. "You fucked me! And then you wouldn't even look me in the eyes!"
"You know!?" Arthur gasped, completely shocked. He didn't think you were sober enough to remember what happened that night.
"I OPENED UP TO YOU ARTHUR!" You yelled, finding the strength in your anger to sit up in your bed. "I GOT CLOSE TO YOU- I LET YOU IN! YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME KNOW ONE ELSE DOES!"
Before you even knew what you were doing, you got up and started pounding your fists against Arthur's back. He was caught off guard, so you got a couple solid punches in before he turned around and grabbed you by the wrists.
"You FUCKED ME! AND THEN YOU THREW ME TO THE SIDE LIKE SOME WHORE! YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! AND ALL FOR WHAT!? ALL FOR WHAT ARTHUR MORGAN!? IS THAT ALL YOU WANTED FROM ME FROM THE START!?" You cried, not knowing when the shouting stopped and your tears began.
You fought to get your wrists out of Arthur's grasp. But he wouldn't let you go. In fact he held on to you tighter, pulling you firm against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tight and without even knowing what he was doing started peppering your head with kisses.
You punched, you sobbed, you screamed, you fought like a bat outta hell trying to get out of his grasp. But Arthur wouldn't let you go. He took every hit, every foul name and every insult.
Eventually, your thrashing stopped. Your sobs turned into small shaky breathes, and instead of punching him your arms were wrapped around his neck and you crawled into his lap. Arthur started rocking you back and fourth, and was whispering comforting things in your ear.
"I didn't know you remembered.." Arthur said softly. "Honey.. I thought I took advantage of you. I didn't think you'd wanna sleep with me if you were sober."
Arthur felt you softly shaking your head, but you didn't speak. So Arthur kept talking.
"I never woulda' acted how I did if I had known you remembered that night." Arthur whispered. "And, I can't lie to ya' honey. I was afraid. I didn't feel worthy of somthin' like what we had going on. I wasn't thinkin' right- actually I don't think I was thinkin' at all."
"Do you love me?" You asked, your voice a broken whisper. "Arthur I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. You know just as well as I do that there is some type of connection between us that we didn't even spark ourselves. Everyone saw it happen before their very eyes."
Arthur looked down at you, and you were looking up at him already. You looked like a scared little girl, and it broke Arthur's heart. How could he have done this to you?
Arthur swallowed thickly. It was now or never. He was afraid, but his fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered when it came to you. Arthur couldn't bare to lose you, especially not like this.
"Yes." Arthur breathed out, a small chuckle leaving him. "God, I love you so much. Please forgive me f'being such a goddamn moron-"
Before Arthur could continue, you grabbed Arthur by his coat collar and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Arthur moved his hands to cup your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that fell from your closed eyes.
You kissed until the both of you needed to pull away for air, and then Arthur kissed you again. He never thought he'd be able to feel your soft and loving lips against his own ever again, so he made sure to savor every moment.
Once you had both caught your breath, Arthur sat there. He held your face in his hands. The love in his eyes sent a blush to your cold and tear stained face.
"I love you (Name) (Last-name)." Arthur said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "S'much. More than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to show ya' sweetheart."
You let out an airy laugh, and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breathe. Your chest wasn't heavy anymore and it felt like your heart was actually beating.
"But I sure as hell will try. Like you said, there is somethin' between us that's not even we could control." Arthur said softly. The smile on his face sent butterflies to your stomach. " 'M so sorry I made you feel so horrible. I'll do everythin' I can to make this right. To make us right, honey."
"It's okay.." You whispered. "It's not entirely your fault, y'know I'm sick anyway-"
"Which is another reason why I shoulda' been smarter!" Arthur said, his voice soft still but also firm. He pulled you into another hug. "I need to keep the happy inside your head."
"You remember that?" You gasped. You were deeply touched that he had remembered something so small.
"I'd have to be dead to forget any of the talks I've had with you sweetheart." Arthur said, his tone nothing but truthful. You smiled into his chest, his words made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.
You both sat there in a comfortable silence, Arthur gently rubbing your back and rocking you back and fourth. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Arthur noticed a shift in your breathing, and he knew you had fallen asleep.
As quietly and comfortably as he could, Arthur shifted so that you were both laying down again. Arthur wrapped you up in a blanket and let out a content sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. He was still scared, but he couldn't let it keep him from you. It was better to be afraid with you, so you could learn and grow together, instead of pushing himself away and hurting the both of you.
"I'm gonna give you the world, my sweet girl. Jus' you wait and see.." Arthur whispered. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, before drifting off himself.
»»———-  ———-««
a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! ive literally spent all my free time on it the past few days lol i got wayyy to invested into this, but are we suprised at this point??? Xx
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aragaki · 2 days
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Darlin/Pack Members
Because my self-control is zero and I just think Darlin' is the most interesting listener character who also deserves the entire world and William Solaire's wallet.
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Milo
Already wrote some about them here but they're my non-canon otp so ofc I wanna talk about them more
The pack's most photogenic couple. Milo puts in the effort to look good and dress well but Darlin' is just the most effortlessly good-looking. They can roll out of bed in yesterday's clothes and unbrushed hair and any candid shot looks like it belongs on an influencer's curated social media. It drives poor Milo crazy.
Before they moved in together, Milo would send messages to Darlin' throughout the day to let them know what he was up to and where he was going. They never asked but he knows it makes them more comfortable and he's always happy to do it.
Christian can't make his jokes about Milo's wolf size for nearly as long when he's mates with Darlin'. Darlin' isn't a brute, they're a protector, so of course they notice the way Milo's smile tightens when Christian piggybacks onto Ash's jokes. They give him three chances to knock it off and after he doesn't listen to them on strike three, they start swinging. Darlin' doesn't ask Milo to talk to David about how he's feeling but he has to anyway when David interrogates him about what caused Darlin' to break Christian's nose.
Darlin' has always been Marie's favorite and she has no problem saying as much. She's wanted them as her kid for as long as she's known them, little spitfire that they are, and is beyond happy when Milo finally makes it official.
This also means that Marie is Darlin's primary healer and gives them twice the ration of shit that she gives anyone else - including Milo! She loves them so much but will not hesitate to kick their ass for being reckless.
Milo is without a doubt Darlin's lifeline during pack meetings. It's a lot, being home and surrounded by people you thought would be fine without you - who are upset with you for thinking so - and Milo knows all the best places to escape with them. They never admit to needing a breather but he always knows.
Milo and Darlin train together!! They absolutely do!! Darlin' knows they can rock Milo's shit and he does too, and he loves it. When they spar or box together it's always going to end in a makeout session. He can't help it, they look so damn fine all fired up and sweaty. They've absolutely gotten caught but no amount of teasing will get them to stop.
Darlin' doesn't mind dressing up for Milo. It's not their thing usually, simple and maneuverable works best for them but every now and again they can be persuaded with plenty of kisses. Fancy restaurants make them feel out of place but Milo always seems so happy to see them under the light of glittery chandeliers and that makes them happy too.
One time he did manage to piss off Darlin' during a fancy dinner so they pretended to propose to him in front of the entire restaurant and it nearly gave him a heart attack. The cake and champagne they were given more than made up for it though.
When Darlin' sits down, Milo has the habit of coming up behind them and massaging their shoulders and neck. He has a hard time keeping his hands off of them at the best of times but he wants to help get rid of some of their stress so small random massages are his way of helping with that.
Darlin' likes things that are simple and physical, they're a tactile person so they've absolutely got a photo album of them and Milo. Marie even gave them some old pictures of them together from their teens for it. Milo finds it one day by accident and if it had him crying on their bedroom floor for 15 minutes that's between him and Aggro.
Speaking of Aggro, he has a love-hate relationship with Darlin'. They're convinced the cat hates them, the way he swats at them and hisses. They say Milo is Aggro's person and he's jealous that Darlin' takes up so much of his attention. But every night, he tries to climb up and sleep on Darlin's chest, head resting under their chin. And if Milo tries to move him to cuddle with Darlin' he gets a full-force bapping to the face until he gives up and lets Aggro do what he wants.
Darlin' has absolutely shifted and laid down so Aggro could climb up onto their back and nap there. They'll never tell a soul.
I talked about it in my other Milo post but Milo kissing Darlin's scars!! They've been through so much and it's affected their self-image so much. Milo can't stand that. So he kisses each and every one, even the ones that make Darlin' lip curl in disgust at themselves, and say something about them that he loves. Physical, emotional, about their personality. Anything. This praise king could go on forever. And he means it and that's what makes Darlin's heart ache the most.
And when they start to believe it, Milo couldn't be more proud. The crease between their brows when they see themselves smoothes out. They don't sneer at the bite marks that are dotted around their skin nearly as much. They get confidence in how they look, and in how desirable Milo finds them. He can't wait until it turns into true self-love.
Milo has no problem being the in-between for Darlin' and David. Both have strong personalities. Both can word things that, while meant to be loving, can be harsh and wound the one who hears them. Milo doesn't have a lot of patience, but he is fluent in Grumpy Wolf at this point. His interventions have honestly brought the unintentional hostility between them down and made it easier for them to talk about their thoughts, feelings, and opinions on their own.
When they're shifted, they're almost always stuck together. Doesn't matter if it's a hunt, a run during the Solstice, anything. They will not be separated. They're both ready to throw themselves headfirst into whatever danger might happen to protect the other, much to the exhaustion of the rest of the pack who really wish they would just stop throwing themselves into danger.
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Asher
"Well mark me down as scared AND horny!" Has been Ash's response to basically everything Darlin' has done since they were teens.
Seriously, there would be no denying that Darlin' intimidated Asher when they joined the pack. A new wolf from outside of Dahlia joins the pack with a chip on their shoulder a mile wide and so fearless they'll jump in first into any problem??? They're intimidating but also!! They aren't mean to him!!
He was without a doubt one of the members of the pack who tried to help Darlin' integrate the most. He'd include them in anything he could, even if it made his other friends side-eye him. He was shameless about it too!! If they wouldn't spend time with him, he'd be following them around like a lost puppy. It was like they had a second shadow.
Some members of the pack scoff and roll their eyes at Asher but not Darlin'. Even if they don't seem interested in his rambling they're always paying attention. They've always listened. And he didn't realize how important that was to him until it was gone.
Becoming pack beta and David's second in command was a huge shift and he's well aware that plenty of people don't think he's up for it. But Darlin' was never one of them. They had their own quiet belief in Ash and what he could do, never questioned his fit for the role. Even as they withdrew from the pack they knew that David could handle it if he had Asher's support.
After Darlin' fell into the wrong crowd, Ash was the most vocal about getting them back and bringing them home. No argument mattered to him, Darlin' was a member of the pack and they needed to be there. He wasn't above saying it was just because he missed them. That didn't change when they stopped being teenagers. He still feels like a dumb kid with a huge crush who missed his chance.
Then, all at once, it all falls apart. Darlin's unempowered friend is almost killed, by Darln's own mate, and the Shaw pack is rallying behind them to try and push the department to act. Then it goes quiet. They leave, saying they're heading up to be with their family and Ash feels like someone hollowed out his chest. It's how he imagined it feels like when someone's mate dies - a constant ache in his chest. Which he knows he shouldn't feel because regardless of his feelings Darlin' isn't his mate. Hell, they just had to leave theirs because he was a shitty person!!
He's confused and it only gets worse when he finds out Darlin' had been lying to them. That Quinn was still at large, that they put the pack at risk, that they were putting themselves at risk trying to handle it alone. They didn't rely on the pack. On their friends. On him. And his impostor syndrome kicks him off on a spiral. But it doesn't take much to pull him out of it, not when Darlin' is finally back in his life.
As mates, Ash is the Will Smith red carpet meme. He wants everyone to look at his mate, to know that he's their mate and they're soooo in love!! It drives poor Darlin' insane.
And he can get away with it!! And damn near anything because Darlin' is so weak to Ash's puppy dog eyes. They have been since they were teens. If Asher wants a grilled cheese at 3 AM all he has to do is flash those eyes and Darlin' is hauling themselves out of bed, but grumbling about it the entire way.
Asher and Darlin' spend a lot of downtime gaming together. They trade recommendations back and forth, play each other's favorites, and terrorize everyone else who ends up in their lobbies. Darlin' can get a little heated and toxic during PVP but it's always defused by Asher doing an uwu voice and making Darlin' choke on their laughter.
David and Milo are happier than Asher when they finally get together, they've been listening to his lovesick pining for years and they're TIRED.
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David
aka the character that got me into shipping Darlin' with their pack members
David and Darlin have such an interesting dynamic!! The devoted pack alpha and the wayward lone wolf. They both have strong personalities and we've seen them come into conflict with each other
But there's love there. There always has been.
I fully believe that in a David/Darlin' relationship, it'd be a case of he fell first and fell harder. It wasn't love at first sight, David's a bit too cynical for that even before his dad died. But there was a pull to the newcomer that drew him in and helping them settle in wasn't just because of his role as beta.
They were always there, in the background of David, Milo, and Asher's teenage years but never front and center. Always on the fringes, like they never found their footing. Something he wouldn't notice until it was too late.
Then Gabriel dies and Darlin' got together with Quinn. Instead of being distant, they're absent entirely. David knows that Quinn is their mate but something about that burns at his core, makes him feel queasy and unsettled. Like it's wrong. But htere's nothing he can do, he has a pack to run and protect.
The anger and hurt he feels when he finds out that they've been lying to him for so long. That they're trying to hunt down Quinn on their own, so stubborn and self-destructive. The fact that they consider themselves expendable and would risk breaking themselves to avenge their friend and protect the pack. He wants to shake them by the shoulders and tell them they're loved but he knows it'll be better to show them instead.
The pack meeting goes better than he hoped, with members both scolding and reassuring Darlin' of their place and their value. He watches them the whole time out of the corner of his eye and he says it's because he wants to make sure they don't bolt but he knows deep down he's just happy to see them back where they belong
The road to becoming mates is even more bumpy with Darlin' than it would be with Angel. He has to balance being their alpha and their partner and he already feels like he's failed them as a leader, they couldn't even trust him about Quinn.
The shift to being mates came with no small amount of arguing. Darlin' likes to fight with David on just about everything and it drives him crazy. It doesn't matter what it is, big or small it's always some kind of fight or contest and it makes his blood boil but at the same time he loves that little sparkle they get in their eye whenever they challenge him.
When there's a pack run and they're all shifted there's a 100% chance that Darlin' is gonna slam into David's flank and snap at him. Doesn't matter how many times he tells them to stop over the link, they're always going to start shit in a way even Asher wouldn't try.
Honestly, it's like David has two betas the way Darlin' and Asher flank him. And Darlin' isn't above mean-mugging clients if they think they aren't being taken seriously. (again, David tells them to stop. They don't.)
Scary movie nights are even more fun when David and Darlin' are sat next to each other, the contrast makes Darlin's abject terror even more hilarious.
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iplaywithstring · 3 days
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Part of chronic illness that healthy, able bodied people really can't grasp is the tenuous relationship we have with medical professionals.
My current Dr is wonderful. Lovely woman. Very open, has never had any push back over any concern I've brought up. We met when I was teaching a knitting class. I feel comfortable with her, both personally and as a doctor.
I still have a ton of anxiety every time I make an appointment.
I worry that it's something serious. I worry it's something minor and I'm wasting her time. I worry that she's going to brush me off - even though she never has.
Today, I had a sebaceous cyst drained - I was pretty sure that's what it was when I went in, but she confirmed it and offered to drain it an no big deal. I felt so awkward getting it taken care of. She also warned me it would be a little painful - didn't hurt at all. I updated her on my frozen shoulder (it's improved so much! Almost full range of motion and very little pain!). Told her my mom had been diagnosed with celiacs - she offered to run my tests again (it's been 10 years) but expected they'd be inconclusive/negative again as I've been avoiding wheat for over a decade at this point, but I needed my yearly bloodwork done anyway so why not (and she reminded me a negative test doesn't mean I don't have it, just that they can't detect it, and it's not worth it to go back on wheat to confirm at this point). I asked about a repeat ultrasound of a cyst on my ovary (it was 3.6 cm in 2018 and I've been having pain in that area again) and she agreed it was a good idea to take a look at.
There was nothing negative in the appointment at all, and I still feel like I want to cry about it.
And I understand everyone has a certain amount of medical anxiety - I remember what it was like before I was sick - but this is different. So much of my quality of life and my day-to-day functioning is dependant on this woman. What if she thinks I don't need one of my medications anymore? What if she disagrees about my level of pain and sees no need for pain management or further testing (like the ultrasound)?
My relationship with my body is messed up - in some ways I am too aware of things, and in other ways, I don't notice/acknowledge problems because it's just always been like that. If she hadn't believed me about my wrists aching I wouldn't know about my hypermobility in my hands. If she didn't take my word for it how drained and worn out I am, I wouldn't have meds that allow me to function with ME/CFS (stimulants in the past, cymbalta currently). I didn't realize how bad my pain was until it was managed better. I never know day to day what I am going to be capable of or how limited I will be.
I have had Drs in the past who did not take me seriously. I lived with debilitating pain for years because a Dr took a clear MRI as "no signs of endometriosis". I've been dismissed as fat and lazy and accused of drug seeking (when I was specifically asking about pain management that did not include opioids). I am so thankful I was able to access a new doctor - not everyone has that opportunity!
but even with these ideal circumstances, it's still hard, and exhausting, and emotional. and that's something that most people in my life will just not understand.
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milk-tea-sakura · 3 days
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~~~~~~~~~~
𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓮𝓶! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓷𝓸 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨/𝓷 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 '𝔂𝓸𝓾'. 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯!
𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 754
𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 2 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓼 58 𝓼𝓮𝓬
~~~~~~~~~~
Changbin was known for his rapping skills, fiery passion, and sharp wit. He helped Chan carry the weight of Stray kids on his shoulders, but his heart had remained partially hidden from the world.
That was until he met you. You were a vibrant soul with an infectious smile, you had unwittingly captured Changbin’s heart. You had been friends for months, but Changbin had held back his true feelings for you, unsure of how to approach the situation. However, fate had other plans.
“Hey Changbin! What’s up, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You ask with a bit of excitement in your voice.
Changbin’s heart fluttered at the sound of your voice. He turned around to see your radiant smile. “Hey, I’ve been great. Just prepping for our next comeback. You know how chaotic things get.”
“Yeah, it gets chaotic. My group goes through the same thing.” You reply
Changbin nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Ah, that’s right. You’re an Idol too. I forget about that sometimes. It must be really tough for you though. Juggling promotions, performances, and just keeping up with all the chaos. Especially since people expect more from female groups.”
“You should know just as well as I do by now, we just go with the flow.” You answer
Changbin lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the hallway. “You’re right. We’ve seen our fair share of ups and downs in this industry. Sometimes I wonder how we keep our sanctity intact.”
“Friends and sleep are how I manage to do everything.”
“Ah, sleep. The precious thing we never get enough of,” Changbin replied with a weary yet playful tone. “I rely on it just as much as our fandom relies on our songs. And friends? Well, they’re the real MVPs. They keep us grounded.”
You nod “Hey, how have you been doing with all the chaos? I know sometimes you forget to check in on yourself.” You ask.
Changbin's expression softened at your concern. “Honestly? It’s been a rollercoaster ride, but I try to not let it get to me much. I’ve realized that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of the group. It’s a constant battle, balancing being the strong one everyone depends on and also remembering that I’m human too.” You nod your head in agreement “It’s very important to remember that… Do you have this afternoon off?” 
Changbin looked at his phone to check his schedule. “As a matter of fact, I do have this afternoon off. Why do you ask?”
“I just wanted to go somewhere that’s not our place of work to talk with each other, to catch up.” You reply
Changbin’s face lights up with a warm smile. “Sounds perfect! I could use some time away from all the hustle and bustle. So, where would you like to go? Somewhere quiet or someplace with a bit more action?”
“Somewhere quiet, for sure.” You answer.
“Alright then, how about we head to my favorite cafe? It’s a small, cozy place tucked away in a quiet alley. They have the best coffee, and it's perfect for some peaceful conversation.” Changbin suggested with a contented smile.
“Alright, I’m down. I’ll pay unless you want to.” You state feverishly
“I’ll pay! It’ll be my treat, dear.” Changbin replied with a chuckle, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “After all, I wouldn’t dare make such a captivating woman pay for her own refreshments.”
“Dear? Captivating?” You repeat back with a bit of shock.
Changbin chuckled, a hint of bashfulness creeping onto his cheeks. “Ah, you know me. I’ve always had a tendency to say things without filtering them properly. But yeah, you’re captivating, and I mean it. Your energy, your passion, everything about you captivates me.”
“So, you like me?” You ask teasingly
Changbin blushed even more, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. “Don’t tease me. You already know I do. But just to reaffirm, yes, I like you. A lot.”
You pause for a second, “I like you too.” You mumble slightly.
Changbin’s heart skipped a beat as he processed your words. A bashful smile spread across his face, and a light blush dusted on his cheeks. “You do?” He asks softly, a mix of surprise and joy in his voice.
“Mhm, how could I not? You’re a very easy person to fall in love with.” You reply. “Now, can we go get that coffee?”
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kcrabb88 · 2 days
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In the Spill of the Dawn
It was a wildly busy May and I've spent the first part of June sick, but! I couldn't let Barricade Day(s) pass without marking the occasion, so here is a little drabble I wrote (which will eventually be added to Ao3). I hope you enjoy!
Against the fall of the velvet night, Enjolras considers the dawn.  
In the depths of the black sky, he feels it coming. The dawn. The sleeping sun, somewhere below the horizon, has awoken. The fractured blue of morning twilight starts peeking out beyond the barricade. The breeze blows cool around him, and he tugs his tattered coat tighter around his shoulders.  
The sun woke.  
But despite the ever-burning hope in his chest, he knows the city won’t.  
It has before. It will again.  
But not today.  
So, he watches the slow spill of the dawn. For how long he couldn’t say. However long it takes.  
The golden glow slowly dissolves the darkness. It shows him pieces of the barricade that were swallowed by the night. The chipped and battered wood. The black smear of gunpowder. Like their forebears, the things they used to make it are things they could find. Chairs. Tables. Nailed together planks and torn-up paving stones. He spies a carriage wheel.  
As that glow spreads, it lights up the faces of his friends. Joly and Bossuet asleep in a tucked-away corner—the only ones to actually follow his order to rest. Combeferre and Feuilly talking quietly together. Feuilly has lost his coat. Combeferre is cleaning his pistol so he has something to do with his hands.  Courfeyrac stands with Marius near the main door to the Corinthe with his arm around Marius’ shoulders. Somehow, some way, a smile plays at his lips. Grantaire is ... well he’s lost sight of Grantaire. He must still be in the cafe.  
Prouvaire and Bahorel are ...  
Enjolras stomach sinks.  
That’s right.  
That’s right. 
They’re gone.  
He allows the grief to gut him for a moment.  
But only a moment.  
From his place at the top of the barricade with the coming dawn, Enjolras chooses to imagine Bahorel and Prouvaire alive. He chooses to see them at the edge of this temporary safe place laughing together. He hears Bahorel’s deep-belly laugher in his ear. The flutter of Prouvaire’s medieval sleeves catch in the morning breeze.  
While he breathes, they are alive.  
While people hope, they are alive.  
While the sun rises and the stars spin silver against the heavens, they are alive.  
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. As long as the tomorrows keeping coming, they are alive.  
He doesn’t need a god, a religion, to know that.  
That faith is enough.  
The breath in his own lungs is but a temporary thing. He knows that. They are, according to his reconnaissance, one of the last—if not the last—barricade standing.  
They are not getting out.  
Taking that truth unto himself is one thing.  
Telling the others is something else.  
He has never much considered the million tiny things that keep his body going—that has always been Combeferre and Joly’s line of work. Now, in the pause before the plunge into their final stand, he feels every pulse and prick. The beat of his heart. The scratch of his sweaty shirt. The hang of his hair that’s fallen loose from its tie. The exertion-ache in his legs. The warmth of his hands and feet. The way his chest rises and falls without him having to spare a thought. 
All of it.  
The fall of boot heels on the rickety makeshift walkway alerts him to a familiar presence. He knows the step. The feel of his friend behind him.  
“I’m guessing we’re not getting what we hoped for this morning, huh?” Courfeyrac asks. “It’s quiet.”  
Before he turns around, Enjolras manages the sudden tears in his eyes. They’re not even grief, exactly—that's too simple. They’re the too-much of it all. His body, this vessel, has never felt enough to contain the everything of him. They will die for something, all of them, but oh, how he longed for his friends to see the future. To be the future.  
Even in the grave, they will shine.  
He knows that.  
Enjolras tucks a strand of hair behind his ear as he turns around. There’s no use in lying, and that would be disrespectful regardless. His friends know what they’re doing here, want to be here, as much as he does.  
“I’m afraid not.”  
“Hmm.” Courfeyrac’s face tightens, but the gleam of courage in his eyes remains. “I thought so.”  
Enjolras puts an arm around Courfeyrac’s shoulders. As the minutes slip past, Courfeyrac’s arm finds its way around Enjolras’ waist, and together, they watch night give way to day.  
Night always, always gives way to day.  
As the sun bursts red-gold into the sky, Enjolras studies his dear, dear friend. The curl of his mahogany-brown hair. The impossible jade-green of his eyes and the life still in them even as death nips at their heels. Their fellows stir in the dew-damp morning. So, too, does the National Guard.  
“Onward together,” Courfeyrac says, and if he wipes away a tear as he smiles, Enjolras doesn’t mention it. “As always.”  
I love you.  
“As always,” Enjolras murmurs with great affection.  
I love you too.  
In the spill of the dawn, their friends greet them. Watercolor images splatter against Enjolras’ memory like he was a part of them—’89 and ‘30. And in some ways, he was. All of them here are a part of the great chain of change. One link breaks. Another rises to take its place.  
Never let go.  
Never give up.  
Onward.  
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dearweirdme · 3 days
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I was just curious about you and other followers and supporters of Taekook, how we’ve all felt about their relationship the further in we’ve gotten from the beginning of their enlistment. To put into context: despite Paris and T*ennie and everything, 2023 really did come close to convincing me 100% of Taekook, though most days I still tried to retain a healthy sense of skepticism about them.
These days though, we haven’t seen them in a while, so now I feel probably closer to 60-70% that they are SOMETHING more than friends. Like I almost ask myself each day, could they really be that? Isn’t that a little impossible? And if they are… can they manage to make it through this difficult period of extended separation? What would they even be like when they come out of the military?
It’s not like I’m having doubts, but it does just seem too good to be true the further away we get from seeing them in the present time.
I wonder if you or your other followers are feeling this way…
Hi anon!
My feelings and ideas about them haven’t changed. My expectations about seeing them together or hearing about them together during enlistment were very low even before they left last december. To me this is a period of time in which we will most likely get nothing to base our understanding of the current state of their relationship on. My state of mind going through this period is basically that I believe they were probably together before they enlisted, I am aware of the possibility of them not making it through this, but I have high hopes that they will. I think a possible breakup will be noticeable when BTS reunites.. and in the meantime all we can do is base our thoughts on whatever we might get to see.
I’ve seen comments about them having broken up because Tae hasn’t posted Jk yet and on them having not seen each other yet. To me those things mean nothing. Would it surprise me if Tae posted Jk at one point.. no, but at the same time I’m never expecting him to. Even last year, though it was a great Tkk year, we probably saw them together way less than they actually were. Just like all members probably saw each other more than we were aware of. They choose when to post about each other, they do not only post about each other when they actually meet. People will call me an idiot for this probably, but Jk doesn’t seem to want to be seen at the moment.. and I think all members would probably be aware of how the others want to be present in fandom right now.
It’s a hard time for those who like to have reassurances every now and then. Selfdoubt is a thing and it very often occurs when looking back at things. It does not surprise me that Tkk fandom has become a bit.. quiet lately. It is something we have to deal with though, because I truly think we won’t get much realtime Tkk for another year. Personally I’m not bothered much, because I always deal well with not knowing everything. I did not become a Tkkr without looking into things extensively first, and my ideas about everything I’ve seen have not changed. To me all the Tkkry from the past is still as valid as it was before enlistment.
I always kinda wonder about the ‘good to be true’ aspect I see sometimes (and I’m not wanting to be critical here, I just truly wonder), because to me that seems like people think Tae and Jk are this magical fairytale come to life. If we are correct about them I do feel we are seeing something unique, but to me it does not carry much of the magical fairytale. I think what we have spotted is the very cruel treatment of two boys/men in love. Sure, they are rich and famous and handsome and their love ia of the greatest kind, but a lot of the things we have spotted is actually signs of closeting, of two sensitive boys having to hide their feelings. While I do get the romantic side of seeing Tae and Jk together (obviously I do 🥰🥰🥰), I have at times thought that maybe if I were wrong about them it wouldn’t be a bad thing.. because that would mean that they didn’t go through some of the hard stuff I think they went through.
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hanni-bae44 · 13 hours
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[ 7:22 PM ]
Just a short timestamp where your husband— Wooyoung— spoils your daughter too much. Oh, and he wants more kids (fluff + suggestive)
“You’re going to get hurt if you stand behind the door, baby,” you warned your daughter from the living room as you finished setting up the diner table. 
Your daughter pouted then stomped to the area beside the door. She leaned her back against the wall, still evidently upset that her dad was stuck in traffic. 
Without fail, your daughter would stand near the front door of your apartment like clockwork with a teddy bear in her hand to wait for her dad every day. She was 5 years old and had no concept of time yet she always knew the time her dad would come home from work.
“I miss daddy,” Hyerin whined insistently. 
You approached her then bent down to her level to cup her cheek. “I know baby, mommy misses him too but just wait a little longer okay? Daddy’s almost home.” 
Your thumb swiped over her cheek gently as you admired your baby girl. She was starting to look more and more like her dad every day. She had his brown eyes and pouted exactly like him too when he didn’t get his way. It was all too adorable. 
Another minute would pass before the front door swung open. You were holding your daughter’s hand, urging her to put away her toys when she let go of your hand and ran towards the door with wide arms. “Daddy!” she squealed.
Your husband’s face lit up at the sight of his daughter. He kneeled down to wrap his arms around Hyerin before attacking her with kisses.
She giggled in response.
Your heart melted as you watched the interaction between the man you loved and the baby girl you both created together. You could tell Wooyoung was exhausted from work too, yet every time he saw his daughter, it was like her smile and presence healed him. He adored his little girl and that much was evident. 
“Daddy’s missed you,” he cooed towards his daughter. He then peered up at you and smirked. “Daddy’s missed you too,” he directed at you while standing up to press a kiss to your cheek. You rolled your eyes in response but you didn’t think he caught it. 
Hyerin’s little hand tugged on Wooyoung’s fingers, pulling his attention back to her.
“Daddy, can we go get ice cream after dinner? Please?” She jumped in one spot while she put on her puppy dog eyes and made her bottom lip stick out. 
Although your daughter was cute, you didn’t let it deter your decision. It would be way too late for sugar by the time you guys finished dinner. “Hyerin,” you warned softly but she ignored you, only caring to appeal to her dad because 9 times out of 10, he’d say yes.
Wooyoung smiled widely at Hyerin then patted her head. He could never say no to his little girl. “Sure princess, but we have to eat dinner first, okay?”
Hyerin nodded vigorously with a wide smile on her face before running away. She was always spoiled by Wooyoung and while it was cute at first, it wasn’t always a good idea to let her have her way so often. 
“She’s had so much sugar this week already and it’s going to be late after dinner,” you explained. “Do you really think ice cream is a good idea?”
“Oh come on babe, a little more sugar won’t hurt, she’s just a kid. She just wants to eat ice cream with us.”
“You spoil her too much.”
“Are you jealous?” He raised a brow as he pulled you in by your waist. “I can spoil you too if you want, my beautiful wife.”
Your arms instinctively went around his shoulders. Years of marriage went strong as he still managed to make you feel butterflies. You bit back a smile as you stood your ground. “I’m just saying, if you spoil her too much, she’s going to be a handful when she asks for something in the future and you have to say no.”
“Kind of like you?” he joked. 
“I'm serious, babe.” 
“Okay, fine. No ice cream next time. But just today because I kind of want ice cream too.”
“Fine,” you sighed. 
You were about to sulk over the fact that your daughter asked him for ice cream instead of you too when Wooyoung captured your lips in his, taking your breath away. Your fingers went up to his hair as you drowned in his scent. You’ve made out with him more than a thousand times at this point yet every time it still felt like the first, his warm and soft lips making you feel all lightheaded and giddy on the inside. 
Wooyoung pulled back first then tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were full of admiration and love. "You're beautiful, you know that?"
"You've said that before, yes," you teased him and he responded with a playful scoff.
He then looked over at Hyerin who was cleaning up the mess of toys he had bought for her. His face was solemn for a second before he glanced back at you. “It’s kind of sad how Hyerin plays alone all the time don’t you think? Maybe it’s about time we give her another sibling?” he suggested with a hopeful look on his face, brows raised. 
It wasn’t a secret that Wooyoung always wanted a big family. And while that was what you had initially both wanted, the moment you had your first baby, you were over it. But then you glanced over at Hyerin who was playing all by herself and she did indeed look so lonely. So maybe Wooyoung had a point… After a couple seconds, you made your decision saying, “if you’re the one carrying the baby then sure.” 
Wooyoung let out a breathy laugh, giving your waist a squeeze. “Ha ha. You’re funny, babe. But I’m serious. I really want to grow our family and I think it’s about time we should have another baby. For Hyerin’s sake too.”
Perhaps you shouldn’t have looked straight into his pretty brown eyes because they were basically seducing you into giving him another baby right now. Truthfully, you’d been thinking about another baby for some time now too but the thought of actually being pregnant always threw you off. Now that your husband was asking again with his pouted lips, you gave it another thought. He was practically begging too at this point so you gave in. “Another baby it is,” you beamed. 
“I knew you'd say yes.” He gave you a soft peck on your lips. “I love you.” Then another peck. “We should get started tonight, what do you think? I’ll make it worth your while.” He raised a brow.
You let out an airy scoff. “Sure.”
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alicedash2 · 2 days
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Hey! I hope you are doing alright. I’m here with another ask as always takes your time! This time I’m in the mood for a Luffy x reader fic super fluffy as always because I’m not into really sad stuff so I was thinking that it could be based around Luffy and her just sitting together having a conversation about past adventures together.
Hey sweetie, here's your order, sorry for take a very long time and be too short :( (again) not reviewed
Moments. Luffy x Reader
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Just a fluffy thing, a short one
----°°°°°°•°•°•°•°•°••°••°•°•°••^°^
It was another day on the ship, as always, Y/N had the habit of sitting on the deck in the morning, enjoying the sun and seeing the sun shining on the water from time to time, using it, leaning on the edges of the ship, it was cold but the sun was comfortable.
Luffy arrives, he wasn't used to waking up early, he sees YN sitting and decides to go to bed
-yo! What is she doing alone?
-just enjoying...you woke up early, Luffy, normally you wake up later-
- I don't know either, I think it was the smell of Sanji's cooking-
-so you would eat in your sleep...-
-aah! It doesn't matter, so, are you alone here? Why don't you go with Nami or Robin?
- ... I like to be alone for a while-
YN rested her chin in her hands, sighing a little.
-I...I remembered something...very funny
-hm?-
-Remember...when we were hidden in a barrel...and we ended up arriving on that ship...we were still new, I didn't know what to do, because you called me to be part of your gang, even though I was just a civilian... incredible how I didn't die-
Luffy laughed, happy to remember his first memories as pirates, unprepared, without a ship, without a band, without anything.
-remember when we arrived in Skypea?-
-aah, I remember!-
-you tried to eat that fruit on top of that tree, and even threw it at Ussop's head! I've never laughed as much as I did that day-
YN laughed a little, it was something so simple that she managed to get a good laugh
A few minutes passed, the happy memories turned sad when the two started talking about when Luffy had to fight Ussop to get possession of the ship.
When Robin surrendered to CP9 so he could save the gang
When they had to say goodbye to the Going Merry
When Sanji "abandoned" the gang and still fought against Luffy and others
-we had some difficult times...it hurts to remember, but I feel good, knowing that everything is ok-
YN said, looking at the captain, who was lying on the floor with his hands behind his head
-Yes...-
- but... I feel nostalgic remembering, we made the most of every moment...-
-...me too...a little-
They were silent for a moment, until they both heard Sanji calling to eat, they got up and walked to the kitchen, to continue the conversation and remember more moments from the past.
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thefixations-ofmine · 12 hours
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In which Tommy has a thing for Evan's birthmark (18+)
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Pairing: Tommy Kinard x Evan Buckley (911) Word count: 1.2k Warnings: sexual content, blowjob, cum play, facials, Tommy has a dirty mouth, daddy kink if you squint
A/N: This is my first work in... years!?! And I already have like 5 wip ideas in store. I wanna thank my dear friend Amanda @flannelplanet for a) getting me into the 911 fandom, and b) riling me up to start writing again!! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Hope this isn't half bad.
Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist
The first time it happened was an accident. Or so Tommy told Evan.
“Shit baby, couldn’t control that,” he had lied, panting, leaning onto the kitchen counter with his other hand. As if he couldn’t aim his perfectly thick, straight-shooting cum onto any part of his boyfriend’s body that he wished to paint. As if he wasn’t perfectly crowding over Evan’s head that was caged between his body and the island cabinet. He stood straight and helped Evan to his feet.
“Yeah, yeah,” Evan chuckled. “Good thing I have good reflexes old man.”
Tommy had laughed at the joke, a bit dismissive, and simply washed off most of what had landed on Evan’s eyelid with his thumb, before bringing it to his lips. He allowed the few spurts that had stuck to Evan’s birthmark to dry, the poor boy too cock-drunk to realize he still had something warm on his face. They had proceeded to dinner, and eventually it was washed off in their nightly shower - where Tommy paid Evan back.
Tommy was gifted with the best partner he could have asked for; eager, good with orders, and the only cumslut he had stumbled upon in his years of practice. He made sure to put that to good use as much as possible, and relished in the bliss on Evan’s face whenever his offering touched his plush tongue. He would never have guessed that those little red dots would become his favourite playground.
“That’s good, Evan,” Tommy gasped, “right down that throat. Fuck just like that!” Evan had taken pride in getting his beefy boyfriend to lose all sense of control. From the moment he had felt him literally fold in half when the tip of his cock had hit the constricting ring of his throat, Evan knew he had found his secret weapon. Did he get a dildo to practice that when they had opposing shifts? That’s yet to be clarified.
“Working so well for that cum, huh?” Tommy had both hands on the mattress next to Evan’s shoulders, and was holding an unforgiving thrusting rhythm. He watched as inch by inch his cock expanded Evan’s throat, bobbing his Adam’s apple on its way in from how Evan had his head hanging off the edge of the bed.
“Pathetic little dick over there is drooling for my attention. But it’s about me tonight, right? It’s about what daddy wants.” Tommy managed a dozen more strokes before he pulled out and grabbed Evan’s hair to level up his head. Once more, he proceeded to drench the left side of his face with cum, enough to have it dripping down to his scalp and ear. His grunts mixed deliciously with Evan’s deep gargling breaths.
“Gooood boy,” Tommy praised. “Look at you!” This time, the cum was washed off rather quickly with a warm cloth, Evan’s face being a little too sticky from his efforts to go on doing anything else.
By the third or fourth time, Evan had caught up to what Tommy was really on about. For him, as far as he was concerned, it had simply been a huge kink for the both of them. Feeling Tommy’s cum on any part of his body was reassurance that this was real - warm and comforting, like their hugs. But it had been a while since Tommy had aimed to get every drop in Evan’s mouth and he was getting a bit whiny about it.
“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, babe,” Evan had finally brought up, mid makeout.
“What’s that?” Tommy waited for the answer with his lips on Evan’s throat, sucking purple patches on his sensitive spots.
“I remember you saying I was a good boy for never wasting a single drop, and that you love when I share my snacks.” Evan moaned at the sensations happening all over him, and regretted starting a conversation. He pulled back and looked his boyfriend in the eyes.
“I’m serious, Tommy,” he added.
“Oh, sweet boy. You miss the taste of my cum?” Tommy had a devilish smile across his face, and Evan knew he was in trouble. Good. “Daddy’s got a new… fixation, if you will.”
Evan was pushed from Tommy’s lap to kneel on the floor between his legs. Instinct kicked in and Evan found himself waiting for instructions, his hands lingering patiently on his own thighs with his bottom lip between his teeth. We’re getting there.
“Let me demonstrate”, Tommy said before taking his cock out of his sweatpants, letting the band slip under his balls. He gave Evan a headnod and the boy practically leaped onto him, setting his forearms over his thighs for support.
Hungry for a good filling, Evan pulled onto the laces of the sweatpants and meticulously tied them around Tommy’s balls as a makeshift cockring. Right away, the veins on Tommy’s cock bulged deliciously, and Evan started working on the head.
Evan had come up with a good list of gameplans when it came to sucking Tommy off. He kept them secret, deep in his subconscious and rotated between them, keeping score of every little reaction he pulled out of him. He especially loved running his pointed tongue on the underside of Tommy’s tip, right through his glistening slit. He closed his lips around it, before taking everything he could before gagging.
When Evan was given the task to give Tommy a blowjob with nothing expected in return, he loved to stretch this out for a while; his record, he edged Tommy for over two hours. Ironically, Evan came in his boxers twice that day.
Today though, he had a mission, and that meant he had to be efficient. Soon enough, the legs under his arms were shaking and he had to hold Tommy’s hips down just a bit - he loved when the tip bruised the roof of his mouth because Tommy would make the most elicit sounds. 
Tommy nudged Evan’s cheek for him to pull off, and he guided his head so it was laying on his thigh, left side up. He tugged at himself a few more times before rubbing his tip along Evan’s brow bone. Tommy brought his index to his tip - smart bastard - to make sure none of the cum would spray off onto the ground.
“Evan,” he groaned with a shiver and let himself fall into the wave of pleasure, filling the faint cup of Evan’s temple, expertly painting over the precious red spots. “Oh, baby,” he moaned, pulling on the word baby.
He looked down at Evan as he was shivering through his own orgasm, one of his palms rubbing onto the front of his shorts. His chuckle rumbled down his chest and reached his lower stomach, where another urgency was slowly building. That’s not something he wanted to explore with Evan for now.
“Follow me baby,” Tommy whispered as he helped Evan up and guided him to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Evan didn’t argue, feeling his limbs weaken by the second, but he was not going to let go of his reward again.
As they were walking towards the shower, he tilted his head forward, letting the cum run down the bridge of his nose and onto his lips. Tommy paused at the sight, his mouth agape as Evan licked away the thick white liquid. Tommy grabbed his head and licked up the side of his face for the last few drops.
“Fuck, I love you.”
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toastsnaffler · 1 month
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wheres the "why is it so saaaad" image with the cat with big sopping watering eyes ouauauuugh how I feel is the embodiment of that
#ow....... my heart 🥹#im not even really sad about anything specific its just been such a long week. and probably the comedown is enhancing it#i just want to cry snottily into someones shirt for like half an hour and maybe ill be okay#its just so haaaard. and i think the meds do help a bit but it still takes effort on my part too. and it sucks a ljttle bit that theyll-#take a while to get used to and maybe therell still be some side effects anyway. and also they could be stopped by shortages at any time#i guess it just scares me a bit the idea of depending on smth like medication just to get a little closer to being a functional human#i wish that came with existing already.. but no point lamenting abt it. the cards have been dealt and its not all that bad really#i just want to be happy.... not all the time but maybe a solid 60-70% of the time. if thats not too much. dont we all girl!!#ah my life is pretty good as it is though and i have a lot to be grateful for. but im allowed to want a little more... right 🥹#im going to go to beddddd. hopefully ill sleep better tonight and tomorrow will be a nice day. at least i dont have to work yayy#ahhh. also its my birthday soon and it always makes me sad coming up to and having a birthday i dont know why..#i dont mind getting older but i guess it makes me feel quite reflective and sometimes its hard to think about the past/future#i want to be able to celebrate birthdays and let people be nice to me and have fun about it! and i say every year ill try better at it#but i never manage to get there it always feels like too much to ask for and too much to take.. ah. well its okay really#ill make myself a cake and do smth fun. and have a good cry at some point but thats just part of the day#not for another few weeks anyway.. okay 10pm lights out zzzz#.diaries
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katya-goncharov · 1 year
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can't wait till i quit my job can't wait till i quit my job can't wait till i quit my job can't wait till i quit my job -
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