ava

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[rcwhore]

I would do anything for curtain bang Rafe... anything. 😮‍💨

[dollyfiles]

finding out ex!bf!rafe has a new girlfriend

cw: inspired by the song “traitor” by olivia rodrigo, angst, emotional betrayal, guilt, ex!gf!reader

“y/n, you’re glowing,” stacy giggled, clinking her glass against yours. but you knew she was lying. still, you tried to let the music and laughter drown out the ache in your chest, but no amount of joking around or sweet talk could wash away the pain. not today.

the country club was busy, and you were doing your best to pretend you were fine. that you were whole again. you even forced yourself to laugh from time to time.

you were about to order another drink when the big glass doors opened and rafe stepped in and your breath caught. rafe looked annoyingly perfect in his open collar shirt, that confident, lazy grin you knew far too well etched on his face. it made you sick how easily he could wear it, like he hadn’t shattered you just two weeks ago.

and then you saw her. her arm was hooked through his, delicate fingers wrapped around his biceps like they’d belonged there forever. your stomach twisted. you knew her. and worse? you had trusted her.

that girl, the one who’d smiled in your face, who’d hugged you after a few games of golf and told you how lucky you were to have him. the girl who’d always been “just a friend.” fucking traitor.

it felt like the world ended. your mind spun like crazy, remembering every time she’d laughed a little too brightly at his jokes, every time you’d caught them sharing a glance that lasted a second too long.

you should’ve known. god, maybe deep down you did know. but you had told yourself not to be crazy, not to be that kind of girlfriend. yet here she was, his plus-one, standing beside him like she’d been dreaming of it all along.

meanwhile rafe’s eyes scanned the room, feeling confident, until they landed on you. and it hit him like a punch to the gut. something was breaking inside him as he took in the sight of you, still standing even after everything he had done to you.

all while he felt her tighten her hold on him. her perfume was clinging to him, a scent that wasn’t yours. and if he was being honest, he couldn’t stand it, even though he said that she smelled pretty just minutes ago.

rafe just tried to smile, tried to hold it together. he had to, for her. he’d chosen this. he’d made this choice. he’d told himself he could move on, that you deserved better than his mess, that she was easy and simple, a safe option to forget himself in.

but the second he saw you, he knew he’d been lying to himself. your face, god, the look on your face, it made him want to throw up. you weren’t even crying, you were just looking at him like he was a stranger, like every shared moment meant nothing now. he broke you. and knowing that was worse than anything he’d ever done.

“breathe,” you reminded yourself, fingers digging into your empty glass so hard you worried it might crack. your girls went quiet beside you, picking up on the tension in an instant. you felt their concerned eyes on you, but you still couldn’t look away.

“she’s with him,” you whispered, so soft only stacy could hear. “who?” she followed your gaze. “her.” you nodded toward the girl on his arm, the one who was busy tucking her silky hair behind her ear.

rafe tried to smile at you then, tried to pretend this wasn’t super messed up, like he wasn’t still wearing the cologne you’d picked for him months ago. he didn’t cheat, he swore that the night you broke up. it wasn’t like that.

but only two weeks passed. two weeks and she was beside him. that wasn’t enough time to move on. no, that was enough time to make it official. you felt your heart break into pieces all over again, the betrayal hitting deeper than any lie he ever told you.

he did love you, right? at least you thought he did. he’d promised you forever, promised no one would come between you, promised you were it for him. his girl.

yet there he was, proving that everything he’d said was worthless, that all the late-night confessions and soft kisses had been nothing but a practice round for her.

but rafe was drowning in guilt. he didn’t meant to bring her here, didn’t mean for you to see. he thought maybe you wouldn’t be here today, and he could avoid this. avoid you. but there was no escaping you, you still owned a piece of him no matter how far you went.

he hated himself for the way his pulse stuttered when he saw you, hated himself for wanting to go to you, to tell you he was wrong, to tell you she meant nothing, to beg you to take him back. but he couldn’t, because he made this choice.

“you okay?” stacy whispered, fingers brushing your elbow gently. you swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “i’m fine.” a lie. you were anything but fine. you were broken.

rafe took a step closer, the new girl still attached to his arm, oblivious to the quiet moment you two were sharing. “hey,” he called out softly, and the sound of his voice nearly made your knees give in.

but you refused to break in front of him. “hi,” you replied bluntly. the girl smiled at you politely, like you were strangers, like she hadn’t once looked at you before. and you wanted to scream.

“you look good,” rafe said, and you wished you could punch him for it, because how dare he notice? how dare he stand there with her and pretend to care? “thanks,” your nails were burying themselves into your palms.

the silence after that was unbearable. you wondered if he felt the same. then he opened his mouth, but nothing came, and you couldn’t take it anymore. without another word you turned away, refusing to let him see you cry.

behind you, you heard him sigh, heard her giggle at something he mumbled, and felt your chest cave in. he didn’t cheat. he didn’t. but he he betrayed you. he was still a traitor.

tags: @deerlaned @maverist @sugaredbambi @rafessecret @inspiredangel @et6rnalsun @st6ined @nemesyaaa @rafekisser @littlelamy @inbred-eater @lacyydollette @barrysluv

[chrishogwarts]

just realized he’s shirtless too

[delilahsturniolo]

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡ kook!reader and pogue!chris secretly meeting up at the beach…except it doesn’t go the way you expect.

recommended that you read this first!!!!

the sand is cold under your bare feet, but you don’t care. you pull your sweater tighter around you as the ocean roars, wind whipping at your hair. the world feels empty this late. except for him.

he’s already there when you arrive. sitting on a washed-up log, a cigarette tucked between his fingers, staring at the horizon like it holds every answer he’s looking for.

chris doesn’t even look up when he says, “took you long enough, princess.” you roll your eyes, though your heart skips anyway. “sorry i don’t live on pogue time.” that earns you a grin. lazy. crooked. dangerous. you haven’t seen him since you agreed to help him, since his friends shut you down.

but when he finally looks at you, it drops. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“you asked me to come.”

“yeah. but you shouldn’t have said yes.”

you cross your arms, defensive. “then why’d you ask?” his jaw flexes, no answer. the silence sits heavy. you sit beside him anyway, staring at the waves. after a while, you break it. “your friends hate me.”

“yeah.” he flicks ash into the sand. “they do.” that stings, though you don’t let it show. “then why keep talking to me?”

“because i don’t.” he exhales smoke. “i don’t hate you.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “that’s not enough.”

his eyes snap to you, sharp. “it’s more than enough. you think i tell anyone else the shit i tell you? you think i let anyone else in? i trust you, and they don’t get it. they think i’m being reckless. maybe i am.” your breath catches. “why me?”

“you keep showing up.” he shakes his head like it doesn’t make sense. “you’re this spoiled kook princess with everything handed to you, but you still keep showing up here, in the dirt, in the dark, for me. tell me why.” you don’t answer. because you don’t know how. because the real answer terrifies you.

he leans in, closer than he should. his voice low. “tell me i’m wrong, and i’ll walk away right now.” your pulse hammers. you should tell him he’s wrong. that you don’t feel this, don’t want this, don’t crave this like oxygen. but you don’t.

instead, your mouth finds his. the kiss is fast, desperate, like both of you are afraid it’s the last time. his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. your fingers grip the front of his hoodie, dragging him into you until there’s no space left.

he tastes like smoke and saltwater and something you know you’ll never forget. when you break apart, you’re both breathing hard. his forehead rests against yours, eyes shut. “this is a bad idea,” you whisper.

“the worst,” he mutters. and then he kisses you again. slower this time. softer. like he’s memorizing you. when he pulls back again, his voice is raw. “you know this doesn’t end well, right? you, me. we’re not supposed to…” he trails off, shaking his head.

“then why can’t i stop?” your voice cracks. “why can’t i stay away from you?” his eyes meet yours, and for once there’s no cocky grin, no teasing smirk. just honesty. “because maybe you’re not who they think you are. and maybe i’m not either.”

you swallow hard, chest aching. and that’s when your phone buzzes in your pocket. you pull it out, and your stomach drops.

CALEB: where are you?

your hands go cold. chris sees your face, sees the name lit up on the screen. his jaw tightens. “you should go.”

“chris—”

“seriously. before you dig yourself deeper.”

you hesitate, torn in two. then you shove your phone back in your pocket and press your lips to his one last time, short, sharp, like a promise and a goodbye all at once. when you finally pull away, his eyes are dark. unreadable.

you turn and walk away, sand shifting under your feet. your phone buzzes again and again, but you don’t look at it. because your heart is still on that log with him.

your house is glowing against the dark when you get back, porch lights sharp against the night sky. the second you step inside, you know something’s wrong. caleb is there. leaning against the pillar like he owns the place. arms crossed, jaw set, eyes burning holes through you.

your stomach twists. “where were you?” he asks, voice low but edged like a knife. you try to brush past him. “out.” he grabs your wrist, tight. “don’t play games with me. you weren’t with your friends. i called them.” you freeze. caleb’s smile isn’t kind. it’s bitter, ugly. “so go ahead. tell me where you really were. or should i guess?” you yank your arm back. “let go.”

“it’s him, isn’t it?” caleb’s voice rises. “that pogue. that dirtbag who thinks he can talk to you like he’s anywhere near your level.” heat flashes through you. “don’t talk about him like that.”

his eyes narrow, triumphant. “so i’m right.” the silence is enough of an answer. his laugh is sharp, cruel. “unbelievable. sneaking around with him, behind my back? you’re pathetic.”

“shut up.” your voice cracks, but the words are steel. “you don’t own me, caleb. and you sure as hell don’t get to decide who i talk to.”

“then maybe your dad should.”

your blood runs cold. “don’t you dare—”

but he’s already moving, storming down the hall. you chase after him, panic clawing up your throat. “caleb, stop!” the office door slams open. your father looks up from his desk, glasses low on his nose. “what’s going on?” caleb doesn’t even hesitate. “ask your daughter where she was tonight. ask her who she was with.”

your father’s gaze sharpens. “well?” you stand frozen in the doorway, chest heaving, every excuse dying on your tongue. caleb crosses his arms, smug. “she’s been sneaking around with that pogue. chris. the one who picked a fight with me at the bonfire.”

the room goes silent. your father pushes up from his chair, his voice like thunder. “is that true?” your lip trembles. “dad, please—”

“answer me.”

you force the words out. “yes.” the air seems to shatter. “do you have any idea how humiliating this is?” he roars. “after everything i’ve done for you, after the name you carry, you throw it away for some…pogue?”

“he’s not—”

“you will not see him again.” his voice cuts like glass. “do you understand me? you’re forbidden from ever speaking to that boy.” your chest aches, fury burning hot under your ribs. “you don’t get to decide who i am, or who i care about!”

his face hardens. “as long as you live under this roof, i do.” the words slam into you, suffocating. behind you, caleb mutters, “he’s right. you’re better than that trash.” you spin on him, shaking. “i can’t believe you!”

“i saved you,” he sneers. “one day you’ll thank me.” something inside you snaps. “we’re done.” your voice is ice. “don’t call me, don’t look at me, don’t even breathe near me again.” caleb’s smirk falters, but you don’t wait to see his reaction. you shove past him, storming up the stairs two at a time, hot tears already burning your eyes.

because in one night, you lost your boyfriend, your father’s trust, and the thin veil that had been hiding how much you already wanted chris, even if it meant burning every bridge behind you.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: well!!! at least caleb’s gone…? (for now) um..*clears throat awkwardly* anyway i have most of the future storyline planned out and i’m SO excited :3

[pepsipoet]

Bring back Chratt streams…please…

They’re so sexy

And why does it look like he’s looking down at you giving him head 😵‍💫

[delilahsturniolo]

‎ . ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁ ravenclaw!reader accidentally showing up to class with slytherin!matt’s tie on

from the hogwarts universe requested here by @spookysturnz

you really should have known better.

you really should’ve left matt’s common room ten minutes ago instead of letting him pin you against the wall and kiss you like the world was ending. “five more minutes,” he had muttered against your lips, voice low and taunting, hands dragging up your waist until your knees felt weak.

and five minutes had turned into ten. now, you’re stumbling out of the slytherin dungeons with your hair slightly messy, your uniform rumpled, and your bag barely slung over your shoulder. matt had already sauntered off ahead of you, cool and collected as ever. of course he would make it to class on time after being the reason you’re late.

you hurry through the corridors, muttering under your breath, tugging at your shirt to make yourself look halfway decent. in the chaos, you had grabbed a tie from the bed, the first one you saw, knotting it hastily around your neck as you push open the classroom door to astronomy.

the room goes quiet. professor sinistra looks up from the board with narrowed eyes. “late again?” she snaps, disapproval sharp in her voice. “sorry, professor, it won’t happen again.” you mumble, cheeks hot, slipping into the first empty seat you can find. you can feel the weight of eyes on you, half the class is staring, and you can’t figure out why.

“five points from ravenclaw,” she adds briskly, chalk squeaking against the blackboard as she turns back. you wince, setting down your books and trying to ignore the flush in your cheeks. you tug your tie to adjust it, only for a murmur of laughter to ripple through the classroom.

and then the professor says it. her voice is sharp, confused. “tell me, when exactly did you become a slytherin?” your head snaps down, your blood runs cold. the tie around your neck isn’t blue. it isn’t yours. it’s dark green, lined with silver. matt’s.

oh no.

you close your eyes for half a second, internally cursing yourself, and when you finally dare to look up, the first thing you see is chris two rows away, eyebrows raised in disbelief, staring between you and the green fabric at your throat. nick, beside him, looks like he’s fighting to keep from laughing out loud.

and then, from behind you, you hear the faintest chuckle. you don’t even need to turn around to know it’s matt. slowly, you drag the tie off and twist in your seat just enough to hand it back to him under the desk. his fingers brush yours deliberately as he takes it, slow and smug. when you finally look at him, his expression is infuriating. a sharp smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, his dark eyes glittering with mischief.

you roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts, snapping your head back around and focusing on your parchment like it’s the most important thing in the world. but the heat in your cheeks doesn’t fade. you can still feel his gaze on the back of your neck, searing and impossible to ignore.

the entire class feels like torture. every time you try to concentrate on the professor’s lecture, matt shifts in his seat behind you, stretching, tapping his quill, leaning forward just enough that his presence is pressed against you. once, you feel the tip of his quill brush against your hair, the faintest tease, and you stiffen instantly.

“stop it,” you hiss under your breath, not daring to look back. he doesn’t reply. but you just know he’s smirking. when the bell finally rings, you all but slam your quill into your bag and stand, determined to escape before matt can make a comment. but as you squeeze through the rows of desks, he falls into step beside you with that maddening ease.

“nice look back there,” he murmurs, voice low so only you can hear. “green suits you, ravenclaw.” you shoot him a glare, shoving your books tighter to your chest. “shut up.”

he tilts his head, grin widening, clearly enjoying every ounce of your mortification. “don’t worry, your little secret’s safe with me.” your eyes narrow. “it wasn’t a secret. it was a mistake.” he leans just close enough for his breath to ghost against your ear as he passes you, voice smooth and cutting.

“funny. feels like a lot of your mistakes involve me.” and then he’s gone, melting into the corridor crowd, leaving you standing there with your heart hammering in your chest, half from frustration, half from something else you really don’t want to name.

behind you, chris and nick catch up, chris glancing back where matt disappeared, his jaw set, his expression unreadable. nick, on the other hand, just bursts out laughing. “it was an accident,” you mutter, glaring at him.

chris doesn’t say a word. he just looks at you for a long moment, his eyes flickering down to your neck where the tie had been, before he shakes his head and keeps walking. and somehow, that silence feels even heavier than matt’s smirk.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: i’ll start writing more for gryffindor!chris i promise 🫩

[serenitysturn]

i’m still here btw

[loveharlow]

↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ BURN (NOTHING BREAKS LIKE A HEART)

JJ Maybank x Fem!Carrera!Reader [ more jj content ]

SYNOPSIS & WC─•❥ [2.9k] Six months after the wedding that broke your heart, the one thing you needed to never happen...happened, and you don't know whether you should feel guilty or grateful.

WARNING(S) & A/N─•❥ part 2 to satisfied, based on first burn (not burn, but it still works) from the hamilton musical but i'd recommend listening to nothing breaks like heart by miley or reflections by the nbhd, swearing, emotional infidelity, deception, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, sibling discourse

THE MAYBANK HOME WAS WARM, a stark contrast to the biting February wind howling outside. You and your friends were gathered in the living room of Kiara and JJ's somewhat newlywed house, a rare night of relative peace. John B was strumming a guitar on the loveseat as Pope and Cleo made more hot chocolate in the kitchen while Sarah attempted to teach JJ a card game at the kitchen island. 

“I’m so glad you could make it.” Kiara smiled at you from her place on the couch, next to you. The group of you were wearing matching pajamas, embracing the approaching winter spirit. “I was so upset when mom told me you were moving to the Mainland. I knew you'd been thinking about it but...I don't know, I thought I’d never see you again.” She pouted, a mug of marshmallow-flooded hot chocolate clasped between both of her hands.

You scoffed, shaking your head and unwrapping a piece of chocolate. “Oh, please. I’ll always come to visit.” You assured, shrugging and tossing the sweet candy into your mouth, pushing it against the inside of your cheek so you could speak. “I just…I don’t know, I think I just need to be somewhere else for a bit. You know? Change in scenery...” You said, peering at your sister through your eyelashes. 

The truth wasn’t that you needed to be away necessarily, you just couldn’t stay here. Staying in Kildare, driving by Kiara and JJ’s house everyday on your way to work or catching them at the local grocery store was starting to wear on your heart. It was starting to become too much. 

Every day you wondered if your decisions and the predicament they landed you in made you a better or worse person. An amazing or terrible sister. Or maybe it was something in between, you didn’t know.

“No, I get it. I mean, I get it now.” She corrected, sipping her beverage. “I was just hoping you’d live down the street from me forever. When JJ and I have kids, I wanted to be able to drive five minutes down the road and drop them off to you without warning.” She joked with a bright smile and a light laugh, one which you struggled to match. Her words were like a shot to your gut. They physically hurt. Hearing them, picturing them…

It’d been almost six months since you stood up in front of a crowd and lied to their faces. Six months since you lost complete control of yourself outside of that reception tent, finally telling the truth to JJ when it was all too late.

Swallowing your pride, you spoke. “How’s that going by the way? You and JJ? Enjoying the married life?” You hated yourself for asking.

“Umm..” Kiara stalled, tucking her curls behind her ear and staring down at her lap. “It’s different.” She said, cringing to herself. “I’m happy, I am.” She assured, eyes going wide at the thought of you potentially taking her hesitation the wrong way as she glanced at the blonde across the living room. “But..he just always seems like he’s somewhere else. Like he’s here, but I don’t feel like he’s here with me, you know?” She said, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “I asked mom about it and she said to give it time but…Y/N, it’s been six months and nothing’s changed. He’s the best. He takes care of me and tells me everything I want to hear but...something is just off. I can feel it.”

You just nodded at your sister’s words, briefly glancing at the blonde as he spoke enthusiastically with Sarah. There was nothing you could tell her, that wouldn’t be a lie anyway, to ease her worries. Just as slowly as your resolve was crumbling, you wondered if JJ’s was doing the same.

“...But, that’s marriage, I guess.” Kiara gained your attention once again, her lips drawn into a thin line as she took a long sip from her decorative mug. “I’ll just keep trying to get through to him.”

“I mean, it is JJ you’re married to.” You said softly, setting a hand on her knee. “He usually needs more time than most people do for most things.” You smiled pitifully. 

“You have a point.” Kiara agreed, dismissing the argument as her eyes found the christmas cards on the living room table. “Oh! We have to sign the Christmas cards for mom and dad.” She remembered, standing from the sofa and setting her mug down. “She hasn’t let us live down forgetting last year.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and nodding in agreement. “I think there’s some pens in JJ’s office. He always asks me not to touch anything in there but he’ll live.” She rolled her brown eyes, pursuing her lips. “I’ll be right back.” She excused herself, skipping down the hall of their home to enter her husband’s office. 

You made idle conversation with John B, who was seated on the loveseat across from you as you waited for Kiara to return. As time passed and still no sign of her, you got up and approached the four people in the kitchen, walking into the middle of Cleo and Pope bickering.

“No one likes peppermint hot chocolate, man!” Cleo protested, a look of disgust on her features. “That’s crazy.”

Pope smiled at her repulsion, dropping a candy cane into his mug. “What’s crazy is the amount of whipped cream on top of yours.” He pointed, sipping his beverage. “Would you like some hot chocolate with that-ouch!”

“Shut up.” Cleo mumbled, lightly swatting Pope’s arm. You laughed at their antics, turning at the sound of Sarah calling your name.

“Hm?” You answered, raising your eyebrows, trying to ignore JJ’s burning gaze from his place next to Sarah.

“Where’d your sister go? She was begging us to start Secret Santa and now she’s nowhere to be found.” She sassed playfully.

“Hey, don’t blame me for her attention span.” You threw a hand up in mock surrender. “She’s getting some pens from the office for us to sign our parent’s cards-”

“What?” JJ interrupted, you looking to him just in time to see his shoulders go square, face flushing red.

“...She went into your office to-” You started more slowly, not understanding his sudden terror before he was moving like a man gone mad — pushing his barstool out from underneath the counter so fast it screeched, almost tipping over as he rounded the island.

“Hey! What is wrong with you?” Sarah protested, half of the cards from the game they were playing being knocked on the floor just as Kie emerged from down the hall, stopping JJ in his tracks — the blonde looking disheveled as they stood in front of one another.

Kiara stood silent. In her hands were what looked to be a handful of envelopes, suffocated in her fist as she looked at JJ like he was the devil himself. JJ’s eyes fleeted between Kiara’s face and the papers in her hands, suddenly coming to a realization. The rest of you went silent, wondering what was happening.

“...Guys?” Pope spoke up, breaking the tense silence that entered the room out of nowhere as John B entered the kitchen from where he was secluded in the living room. “What’s goin’ on?”

Kiara’s solemn gaze slowly scanned the room until her sad, brown eyes landed on you in the middle of the kitchen, holding up the papers in her hand.

“Did you know about this?” She hissed, eyes squinting in your direction.

Your eyebrows pinched in on themselves slightly, eyes darting around to all of the other people in the room before speaking, suddenly feeling anxious and confused as you hugged yourself. “Did I know about what?”

“These letters.” She snapped, feet carrying her swiftly to you as your friends crowded in between the two of you, sound of protests from them not knowing exactly what was happening still. “The letters in my fucking hand-!”

“She didn’t know, Kie.” JJ spoke from where he hadn’t moved an inch, a hand in his hair and the most forlorn look on his face you’d ever seen. 

“Bullshit.” Kiara spat, turning around to face him and unballing the papers in her hand. “They’re written to her-”

“I never sent any of them.” He asserted, his annoyance growing with no one but himself. The rest of you stood watching, wanting to know what Kiara was seething about but not wanting to get in the middle of whatever this was. “Okay? She didn’t know….” JJ trailed off, his blue eyes drifting over everyone else in the room to look at you. His eyes were glossed over, sending you a pleading gaze. He looked sorry. But for what?

The kitchen suddenly felt suffocating. The warmth of the house, once comforting, now felt overwhelming. The lightheartedly, familial setting of the evening had evaporated. 

“Kie,” Sarah started, approaching her friend and putting a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Kiara asked as if the question burned her, stepping away from Sarah’s touch. “What’s wrong is I just found a stack of love letters-”

“Kiara...” JJ tried, dragging his hands down his face.

“Written from JJ to my fucking sister.” She ignored him.

You were fairly certain your heart dropped at her words. This was the first you’d heard of these letters. How could letters be written to you that you'd never received? More importantly, why did Kiara of all people have to be the one to find them?

Clutched in her grasp were letters that detailed JJ’s love for a woman other than herself. Letters that outlined his love, a love so profound, for not only another woman, but a woman she’d grown up with. A woman she shared a life, a home, a family with — her own sister. He’d wrote of your laugh, your smile, your spirit, the life he’d dreamed of with you. The same life Kiara had dreamed of with him. He wrote of his feelings for you, feelings that, to him, were inevitable and irrefutable. Eternal. Unwavering. She didn’t even know he knew half of the words scribbled on the pages she’d read.

But the most damning revelation was the reason for their marriage, outlined in a letter written only a month after their marriage. In a particularly heart-wrenching passage, JJ confessed that he'd married Kiara only because you, in your ‘selfless desire’ to protect your sister. JJ, trapped between his love for you and his loyalty to your wishes, had made a choice. A choice that now lay exposed in Kiara's trembling hands.

"They were hidden in a drawer in his office." Kiara said, her voice trembling as tears fell.

An even more suffocating silence filled the room. The air crackled with awkwardness and anxiousness but Kiara noticed the lack of…disbelief. The lack of shock. She reeled back at the lack of reaction and anger that matched her own, looking at everyone single person in the room. “Why do none of you looked surprised?” She snapped, throwing her hands out as you all glanced at each other, lowering your heads and letting out sighs. Your reactions almost as if… 

“You knew.” Kiara scoffed, letting her shoulders fall.

“Kie…” You tried, taking one step forward, but she ignored you, turning away and talking to the wall. 

“You all fucking knew.” She hissed, turning back around and serving the group of you the meanest glare she’d ever given anyone — especially you. “You,” She started, pointing at you and approaching you, stopping less than a foot in front of you as you held back tears. “You’re my sister. And you-” She stopped herself, huffing as tears continued to fall from her eyes. 

You clenched your jaw, fighting your own tears as she whipped around to storm in JJ’s direction, throwing the collection of papers at his chest. “You told me you loved me and you lied.” She seethed, getting in JJ’s face. “You married me because she didn’t tell you not to. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

JJ flinched, the truth hitting him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to speak, to deny, to explain, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn't lie. Not anymore.

"I thought... I thought I could make it work," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought if I was with you, if I built a life with you, it would be enough. But it wasn't. It's not..." He looked at you for a moment, a moment too long for Kiara.

“Do not look at her.” She snapped, lightly pushing his shoulder back. “Look at me.” She cried. “You’ve looked at me and lied for almost six years now. So, look at me now and tell the truth.”

JJ’s eyes filled with a desperate sorrow. "...I never meant to hurt you, Kie. You have to believe me. I never wanted this-"

“Well that much is clear.” She gritted out, eyes never leaving his own unless it was to look at you, still standing, feet planted to the floor in the kitchen. 

Kiara's anger reached a fever pitch. The hurt, the betrayal, the years of feeling like something was missing, all coalesced into a burning rage. She snatched the letters from where they'd fallen on the floor as the rest of you watched with slack jaws and teary, guilt-filled eyes, her hands trembling as she held them. You were all at fault in some aspect.

“I should’ve known...” She mumbled angrily to herself, pushing past all of you to enter the living room, approaching the fireplace. “I should’ve known that night at that stupid party all those years ago.” She threw the first letter in, then the second. “I should’ve known when you kept looking at her during our goddamn wedding.” She threw the letters into the flames, one by one, watching as the fire consumed the words of love and longing that were never meant for her. The room was filled with the acrid smell of burning paper, a symbolic destruction of the life she thought she had. “I should’ve known when you disappeared during our reception and I found the two of you outside. God, I am so stupid-”

“Kie, please...” You attempted to ground your sister, a hand on her arm. Her skin was scorching, burning with unadulterated anger as she roughly pushed you off.

“Do not touch me!” She screamed at you, whipping around to look at you – your noses almost touching. “I bet you think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?” She taunted, her tone darker than you’d ever heard it. “Always trying to be the better sister. The good sister.” She scoffed, looking you up and down. “You’re not.” She took a step closer to you, her eyes blazing as you remained silent, letting her get her frustrations out. 

As the last letter turned to ash, Kiara to both you and JJ, her face a mask of pain and pure anger. "Whatever you two have going on, consider me no longer a part of it." She said, her voice low and dangerous. "Pretending might be your thing,” She threw at JJ. “But it’s not mine. So, I'm done. I'm not pretending we're one big happy family when you've both been lying to me for years." She cried, her anger only growing as all you stood before, silent and ridden with guilt.

“...Get out.” She snarled, crossing her arms — meeting each of your eyes one by one. 

“Just…hold on a second…” John B intervened, taking one step forward.

“Yeah, Kie, let’s just think about this, okay?” Sarah tried as well.

“No. I’m not thinking about anything, I’m not talking about anything with any of you. Get out-”

“There’s a lot happenin' right now...” Cleo finally gathered the courage to try and calm down the girl.

“Cleo’s right. We have to-”

“Kiara, I-” You had finally overcome the lump in your throat to speak just as Kiara broke.

“I said get out!” She bellowed — cheeks flushed crimson red, tearful eyes strained as her hands swung at her sides, balled into tight, painful fists.

Ignoring her wishes, you stepped into her space. “...I thought I was doing the right thing.” Kiara simply shook her head at your words, face twisting with hurt.

“And at what point did you realize you weren’t?” She countered, voice watery. You grew silent at her question, Kiara nodding resentfully at your silence. “Right.”

Kiara didn't continue to wait around for a response. She turned, snatched her car keys from the table by the door and walked out of the house, slamming the door open behind her with a force that rattled the windows. You and your friends stood in stunned silence for a moment, the warmth of the evening replaced by a chilling emptiness.

You didn’t hesitate in attempting to follow after her when you were halted by a hand on your arm, turning around to find JJ — tearful and silent, but something similar to relief was floating in his eyes. Out of instinct, you snatched yourself away from him as the tears in your own eyes finally spilled over.

Your friends all worried around you — cursing, groaning, and sighing. You simply stood before JJ, jaw clenched and fingernails digging into the palms of your hands, eyes blazing with a village of emotions your couldn’t quite place. The blonde never looked away from you as you stared him down, not knowing what you wanted to do when you broke — lip quivering as a sob broke past your lips and your forehead fell against his chest as you hugged yourself.

JJ wound his arms around you, pulling you against himself as he laid his head a top yours. He felt guilty, for more reasons than one — but mostly because, as you sobbed against his chest at the very real possibility of never talking to your sister again, he only found himself solemnly grateful that he could finally hold you.

JJ Maybank Taglist in replies!

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading. follow & turn on post notifs for @theharlowpost for writing exclusive updates!

©loveharlow.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader decides to let loose at a frat party after a long and busy week, and fratboy!chris is the one that has to deal with it—becoming the target to her drunkenness.

one drink turned into two drinks, two drinks turned into three drinks, and three turned into six drinks with five shots on the side.

you are, to put it simply, severely fucked.

you hadn't really planned on drinking this much tonight, and honesty, you never do. but after being so consumed in your busy schedule for the week, you were in need of a break—a desperate one. so when bee, kitty, nick and even nate started pouring drinks and getting you involved with the games... yeah. you really should've known better.

everything feels really funny, though. you're giddy, light-headed, and warm all over. your cheeks hurt from smiling, your steps are wobbly like you're on some invisible tightrope, and your words come out in bubbly bursts that even you can't keep up with.

(are you even making sense? probably not. but the others keep laughing, so you laugh too.)

somewhere near the end of the night when people start to disperse out the front door and couples, or others that have been all over each other for the majority of the night, go to their respective rooms, you find yourself standing at the bottom of the staircase, gripping the handrail tightly as you try to make your way up step by step.

it's a challenge, one you're not sure on trying to compete with right now. the couch is starting to look really temping to lay your head down for the night.

"what the fuck are you doin'?"

you slow turn your head, a lopsided grip on your face when you spot chris standing behind you. he's got that usual look on his face, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowed, and he's staring at you beneath the rim of his cap.

you try to talk, but the words come out in a tangled, giggly mess, too incoherent and hiccup-y for him to even comprehend what you're saying. he just grunts, rolls his tongue across his teeth, and shakes his head as he steps closer, unfolding his arms to grab yours to steady you when you sway.

"you're a mess, bun. how much did you fuckin' drink? huh? y'gonna fall on your ass 'n i don't wanna deal with your whinin'."

even in your drunken haze, you can feel the heat of his hand on your arm, how the grip steadies you more than you care to admit. you giggle again, the sound bubbling out before you can stop it.

"what s'funny?" he snaps.

"you're funny," you counter, grinning up at him dizzily. "you always s'—hiccup—grumpy a-and mean. your f-face s'like... angry 'n stuff—hiccup—"

chris blinks, deadpanning. "move."

with his grip on your arm, he's all but pulling you up the staircase and down the hallway to his room, muttering something under his breath that you're too disorientated to catch when you trip over your own feet.

when you finally reach his room, his hand slips away, leaving you unsteady and jelly-like. you wobble toward the bed before throwing yourself onto the mattress.

unfortunately for you, you didn't think about the possibly bounce. the mattress springs beneath you, sending you flying off the edge with a loud thump as you hit the floor in a tangled mess, your limbs sprawled out like some ragdoll.

chris stops in his tracks, staring at you incredulously, watching as you (hilariously) tumble off his bed and land to the floor in a heap. he exhales sharply through his nose, and without a word, he steps forward, slipping his hands under your legs and back.

he lifts you up only to deposit you back onto the bed, and you sprawl out on your back, your arms and legs spread out like a starfish as you stare up at the ceiling with wide, slightly burry eyes while whining pitifully at the pain.

"you hit your head?" he asks, tone flat, but before you can even answer, he's already going again. "s'what happens when you fuck around. let me see it."

he pulls you a little bit, inspecting the area, skimming over the back of your head with his fingers. his jaw is tight and his focus sharp even as you blink up at him with bleary eyes.

"is my brain falling out?"

"pretty sure y'need to have one first," he's quick with it, and you frown as he lets go of your head. "stay."

he turns to walk over to his chest of drawers, rummaging through it before returning shortly with one of his shirts and a pair of basketball shorts. he dumps them onto the bed beside you, gesturing lazily in your direction.

"arms."

your lips curl into a giddy grin as your brain takes a hard left, your alcohol coated mind latching onto the nursery rhyme instead. "shoulders, knees and toes.. knees... toes."

chris eyebrows shoot up, his expression a mixture of disbelief and irritation, "it's 'heads', dumbass."

you whine softly, stretching out one arm to bat at him. "i don't want to give you head right now."

chris blinks, his brain stalling for half a second. "wha—i didn't—" he stops himself to take a long and deep breath like he's trying to summon every ounce of patience he has while staring at you. "just put your arms up."

once your shirt is off and his is in place, he reaches for the shorts, his demeanour all business-like as he kneels, instructing you. "hips."

you're already drunkenly singing your awful rendition of shakira's hips don't lie and chris lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head with an annoyed click of his tongue.

"can you jus'—" he slides his hands under the curve of your ass. "lift."

his palms are steady and heavy, and you feel the elastic of your skirt slip past his fingers with a snap in warning as he pulls it off and tugs the shorts up your legs instead, the fabric of the waistband sitting against your skin.

chris straightens, still hands-on, his thumbs pressing the soft patch of skin above the waistband as he studies you with his eyebrows furrowed, watching for any subtle hints of nausea.

"if y'gonna be sick, tell me. 'cos if you throw up in my room—"

"shhh," you interrupt, pressing a finger to his mouth before he can finish, the gesture sloppy and sudden. "you s'noisy.. be quiet."

oh.

chris is so close to biting that finger off.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

©STURNIOZ est 2025 𐔌 . all rights reserved.

[youarenotalone101]

my experience with rose

i feel like it's finally my turn to say something. i've kept this to myself for so long but seeing people still love rose, and now that she's finally gone i can't stay quiet anymore.

i was 15. the whole time i was so confused. she would constantly talk sexual with me, telling me about her fantasies and making comments i didn't even understand yet. she asked me to call with her, and on those calls she'd always bring up sexual stuff. i didn't know what to say. i just remember feeling weird, uncomfortable like i had to just sit there and go along with it even though i didn't want to.

eventually i blocked her. she blocked me back, and then i deactivated. since then tumblr hasn't felt safe for me. every time i see her name or people saying how much they love her it brings all of it back.

i think this is the last time i'll ever be on here. i don't even know why i'm writing this except that i just want to finally be heard. i've carried this for so long in silence and maybe it doesn't even matter anymore but it matters to me.

the worst part is i barely have any screenshots because i deactivated my account back then. that makes me scared no one will believe me. it scares me that most of this only exists in my memory and maybe only i will ever know what truly happened.

sometimes i feel like maybe i'm being dramatic. like maybe i overreacted or made it bigger than it was. but then i remember how sick it made me feel, how confused i was how i didn't even know what to say when she would start talking sexual with me. i was 15. that shoulve been enough for her to know it was wrong

i don't know. maybe i'll regret posting this maybe people won't believe me, but at least i finally said it out loud.

please i beg, interact with this any way i really want to feel heard it feels like im being dramatic but then I remember how much it still bothers me.

tags for awareness@cvnntagious @darksturnz @y3sterdaysproblem @passionfruitchris @nickssidewitch @humpster35

[delilahsturniolo]

‎ . ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁ how slytherin!matt & ravenclaw!reader met

*from the hogwarts universe* (this is a flashback)

requested by anon

you remember the first time you saw him like it’s burned into your mind. it was early in your second year, the castle still carrying that restless hum it always had in september. the smell of wet stone from the rain clinging to the walls, first-years darting around like lost pixies, the older students claiming their usual spots in the corridors.

you were late to class, books stacked high in your arms, muttering to yourself about how professor flitwick was going to take points if you showed up any later. your head was so buried in your schedule that you didn’t see him until you collided hard enough to send your entire pile of books to the floor.

“jesus—watch where you’re going,” a low voice snapped. you blinked up, ready to fire something back, and froze. tall. sharp-featured. a perfectly pressed slytherin uniform that looked like it had been tailored to him. and those eyes…cold, steady, assessing you like you were a problem he needed to solve.

“sorry,” you muttered automatically, dropping to your knees to grab your books. he crouched down too, picking one up before you could reach for it. his long fingers brushed the worn spine, gaze flicking to the title. advanced charms: a guide to complex incantations.

“ravenclaw,” he said, like he’d already figured you out. you straightened your back. “and you’re a slytherin, congratulations on knowing how to read.” his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but something close. “feisty. you don’t seem like the kind that gets knocked over easily.”

“you don’t seem like the kind that cares about anyone,” you shot back. he didn’t. just handed you your book with an infuriating slowness, like he was waiting for you to squirm under his gaze. “matthew,” he said finally. “matt, if i like you enough.” you took the book from him, your fingers grazing his just enough to feel how warm his hand was. “guess i’ll stick with matthew, then.”

he stood, towering over you, and you hated the way it made your stomach tighten. “we’ll see about that, ravenclaw.” and then he was gone, disappearing into the flow of students like he hadn’t just lodged himself into the back of your mind. you didn’t know it then, but that moment would replay itself again and again, the sharpness in his tone, the glint in his eyes, the way he made you feel like you were being measured and tested in the same breath.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: hogwarts is a university in this au by the way, forgot to mention that </3

[starrysturnz-deactivated2025101]

overseas, under you

pairing. chris sturniolo x reader

summary. the boys invite y/n to come along on their winter vacation to hawaii, but problems arise when she finds herself sharing a bedroom with her long time secret crush… and it only has one bed.

warnings. mutual pining between two idiots. smut; a wet dream, some grinding… minor voyuerism in a way. they’re so cute they make me feel so lonely and i literally made them up.

word count. 3.9k

author’s note. one bed trope friends to lovers my beloved <3 a bit cliche but i think i was able to put a unique spin on it! lmk what you guys think :3 this started getting too long so i broke it into two parts!! part two will be released at the beginning of next week. happy valentine’s day to everyone, especially @strnilolover and @darksturnz for helping a girl out with ideas!! kisses!

masterlist | taglist | part two

dividers by: @uzmacchiato

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved.

a sharp beep beep! from her driveway was y/n’s cue to move along. she’d been rushing all morning to finish up her last-minute packing, having left half of the job for the day of, in true procrastinator fashion. a quick sweep through her mental checklist— phone, wallet, keys, passport— and she was scrambling out of the house.

she almost forgot to lock the door behind her when she caught sight of the boy in the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers impatiently against the leather of the steering wheel. chris always managed to take her breath away, as if it were the first time she was seeing his sharp jawline and piercing aquamarine eyes. shaking the thought away, she turned around and stuffed her key into the lock, triple checking that it was secure before shuffling off to throw her luggage in the trunk.

the slam of the driver’s side door fell on deaf ears as the girl hoisted her suitcase into the van, on a mission to be as quick as possible (after all, she was making them late). a light touch on her wrist had y/n jumping out of her skin, almost dropping the second bag onto the icy ground at her feet. her free hand flew to her chest as her head whipped around to find chris there, the feeling of his fingertips burning into the back of the other still gripping the handle.

chris was already smiling when they locked eyes. “i got it, ma.”

“chris,” she breathed, her shoulders dropping. “thank you.”

“’s nothing,” he replied warmly, in a way that had her cheeks heating up in the cold boston air. “go hop up front, a’ight? you’re picking music. but if you choose wrong, i’m giving matt aux privileges.”

⁺⁎˚

the ride to the airport was relatively uneventful. chris was too focused on following the gps to chat with anyone, not willing to miss an exit and add more time to detour. nick and matt were busy discussing the logistics of an upcoming space camp photoshoot in the backseat, leaving y/n to chew anxiously on her nails, her thoughts racing so fast they could lap the van on the highway.

she felt like an intruder. this trip had been a sort of anniversary gift from a brand the triplets had been partnered with for two years— an all-expenses-paid vacation to hawaii. they could’ve invited anyone, and they used their one extra ticket on her.

even though the boys assured her multiple times that their decision was instant and unanimous— “of course we want you there, you’re our best friend,”— y/n still felt guilty, insisting their brother, justin, might be a more logical choice. it was chris who’d spoken first, claiming that if they’d invited justin, they’d have had to find a way to include their parents as well, and then they’d be paying out of pocket.

it sort of made sense, y/n could admit. but maybe a part of her wished that chris wanted her there for another reason. she wished she was his plus one. that they could hold hands on the beach at sunset. that he would wrap her in his towel to keep her warm as the salty air grew colder. that—

“hey. y/n.”

a two-toned whistle had her tumbling off her train of thought, head snapping toward the driver’s seat at the sound of chris’s voice.

“you good? we’re here.”

she cleared her throat. “sorry. i was just….”

she wasn’t even sure the boy had heard her, already pushing his door open to grab their bags from the back. taking a deep breath, y/n followed suit, double checking they hadn’t left anything in the car before heading to the departures entrance.

⁺⁎˚

y/n was an infrequent flyer, to say the least. the few times she had been on a plane, she found herself in the back of the cabin, sandwiched between large men whose legs took up half her space, and unruly children who should’ve been old enough to know not to throw their toys into her lap.

this was something else entirely. a whole private cubical to herself, with a seat that reclined into a bed? no large men, no unruly children? it was a dream, if nothing else. she was thrilled.

but she also wished she wasn’t in first class. which is ridiculous, by the way— no one ever wishes they weren’t in first class, it’s a backwards thought process. and y/n knew that, but she also knew that if they’d just been in comfort plus, she could sit next to chris, chatting and laughing as usual. he would make the twelve hour flight feel like nothing, but instead, it would feel like double the trip in her little isolation pod.

the thought had her kicking herself in guilt. not only was she in first class, but she was there for free. it wasn’t fair of her to be upset about anything.

unbeknownst to the girl, chris caught the crease in her brow, frowning at the idea that something was bothering her. he waited a minute for the people around them to take their seats before crossing the aisle to her seat, knocking gently on the partition to get her attention.

“y’know, for someone going on a tropical vacation, you don’t seem too excited,” he mused. there was a teasing edge to his voice, but just beneath the surface, concern. “what, you worried you forgot to take out the trash before you left and your house’ll be smelly when you get home?”

“well i am now!” y/n groaned. “jesus, chris, why would you even say that?”

chris’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at her expense. “relax, ma, i’m just playin‘. knowing you, i bet you even swept your driveway before leaving. you didn’t forget anything.”

“swept my—?”

“excuse me, sir,” a polite tone sounded from the other aisle on the right side of the plane, “you’ll need to take your seat now. we will be taking off shortly.”

“’s my cue,” said chris, offering her one last reassuring smile. “stop stressing, okay? everything’s gonna be fine.”

⁺⁎˚

everything was not fine.

it was now three hours into the flight, and y/n had made the mistake of falling asleep immediately, missing dinner. she’d needed it, too, since the whole day had been so busy that she’d only managed to grab a couple snacks here and there. a small bag of chips was the only sustenance at her disposal, and the thought of eating another helping of overly-salted junk food made her feel queasy. she supposed she’d have to wait five hours until breakfast was served.

she’d just decided on a movie to try to pass the time when she heard the unmistakable sound of chris’s voice, his chin resting in his palm as he propped himself up on the partition.

“you get your beauty sleep?”

the boy’s hair was mussed— clearly, he’d made himself comfortable in his own seat. his sagging shoulders gave the impression that he was tired, but his shining eyes were wide awake.

“guess so.”

he hummed, his gaze softening just so. “doing okay? it’s gonna be a long flight still. you need anything?”

y/n gave him her best fake smile, not wanting to ask for anything more than she’d already been given. “i’m good, chris, don’t worry.”

mischief crept its way onto his face at her response, and before she could question it, he said, “guess you won’t be needing this, then.” he pulled the packaged meal from behind his back with a dramatic sigh and a look of faux disappointment he could only hold for so long at y/n’s reaction.

a gasp fell from her lips, her stomach growling at the site. “oh, my god, chris, how did you get that?”

“they skipped you at dinner,” he shrugged. “figured you were passed out, so i asked for two. first class comes with perks, apparently.”

“you’re incredible,” she sighed, relief washing over her like warm water when he handed her the container. “thank you. seriously.”

“’course, ma.” chris turned to head back to his seat, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

“wait, chris…," she blurted, maybe a little too quickly, "can you stay?”

when he turned back around, y/n’s demeanor had shifted from relaxed to tense— like she was afraid she might’ve said the wrong thing. her neck was turtling just barely into her shoulders, and she was picking at her fingernails, a longtime nervous habit chris had (unsuccessfully) tried many times to help her break.

it made his heart hurt. “sure, yeah. scooch over a little.”

the seat was suitable for one person, but it was obviously not built for a cuddle session. the pair struggled to find a comfortable position for a few minutes, before settling on chris sitting behind y/n, arms wrapped around her middle as she ate her dinner. she tried to ignore the electric feeling of his thumbs rubbing into her waist through her hoodie— and it had almost made her choke on a mouthful when he’d first started. she wasn’t even sure he was aware he was doing it.

when she’d finished the last of her lukewarm meal, chris set her tray off to the side in favor of pulling her back to lay down with him.

“i know you’re tired, y/n,” he spoke quietly, his breath fanning her temple, flexing his biceps to bring her that much closer to his chest (a move that made her cheeks grow warm). he planted a hand to the back of her head to steady her against his heart. “go to sleep, okay? i’ll wake you up for breakfast. promise.”

y/n only nodded, and prayed he couldn’t feel the intensity of her heartbeat through their clothing.

⁺⁎˚

the hotel was nice. far nicer than any y/n had ever stayed in before. the lobby alone was massive, with advertisements for every amenity a person could ask for— including a spa, which the girl would happily be taking advantage of. the thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

nick, noticing, asked, “everything okay?”

she nodded. “just excited to finally relax. i’m afraid the first thing i’m going to do is take a long nap.”

“i hear you. matt kept me up all night with his giggling next door.”

“sorry i like comedies,” the middle triplet rolled his eyes, “not my fault you’re such a light sleeper. y’know they had complimentary earplugs, right?”

“i have sensitive ears, matthew.”

“next guest?” called the concierge before matt could respond, and he gave nick a pointed look before stepping up to check them in.

“so, chris,” nick started with a teasing tone, “what happened to you last night?”

“what do you mean, ‘what happened’ to me?” chris said, seemingly annoyed by the conversation already.

“i got up to use the bathroom and when i peeked into your seat, you were gone. care to tell where you were?”

y/n felt the flush make its way to her face, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys. she opened her phone, hoping to appear busy as she listened anxiously.

“dude, why were you peeking, that’s so creepy—”

“don’t sidestep my question, mister,” nick pressed. “you were gone when i came back, too.”

“i was hanging out with y/n, jeez, man. and it’s weird that you were stalking me, like that’s insane.”

“what, how—? i’m your brother! is it insane that i want to know where you are and that you’re safe? what if you were being kidnapped?”

“on a plane? really, nick?”

grateful that the subject had changed, y/n tuned out the rest of their argument, having mastered that skill many years ago. she watched as matt spoke with the kind-looking older fellow at the service desk, who eventually handed him two room keys. matt offered him a smile in return, and waved the rest of the group over to the elevators.

“okay, so,” he began handing them their respective keycards, “me and nick will take 1207. chris and y/n, you get 1204.”

y/n’s head snapped up at that. “i thought i was rooming with nick.”

“originally, yeah,” said matt, “but we had to move the space camp photoshoot to the early morning, remember? and since me and nick will have to wake up at, like, six, we figured we’d just bunk together.”

she paused. y/n did recall the boys mentioning how matt would come along to the photoshoot because nick needed someone he trusted to help oversee the production, since they’d be working with an entirely unfamiliar crew. she didn’t know they’d changed the time, though.

this wasn’t even out of the norm— y/n had slept over at the sturniolo’s many times growing up, often spending the night in the boys’ beds with them. but something about sharing a hotel room with chris, just the two of them, for a week... it filled her with butterflies.

“and the rooms aren’t connecting?” she clarified.

“well, they’re across from each other,” said matt. “sort of. we’ll just be ten feet away, don’t worry.”

“that okay?” asked chris, a nervous tinge in his voice.

y/n smiled as confidently as she could manage. “yeah, yes. of course. as long as i can take my long showers in peace.”

“fine. but you better leave the door unlocked in case i have to piss.”

they all laughed at that as the elevator doors opened, and headed in the direction of their rooms.

“okay,” matt began, checking his phone, “can we all agree to meet downstairs for dinner at eight?”

“eight? why so late?”

“because i’m tired, nick. i want to sleep. sue me.”

“at least you got some sleep last night,” nick mumbled, and matt’s hand flew up to smack him in the arm, but chris caught his wrist before it could land.

“just go take your nap. we’ll be down at eight.”

with that, the two retreated into their room. chris fumbled with his keycard for a moment, and y/n’s mouth had just opened to offer help when he managed to open the door.

“finally, some peace and—”

chris’s words died in his throat when he saw the room ahead of him. it was beautiful, like the rest of the hotel, with a mini-bar, a luxury bathroom with a glass shower, and floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. what he wasn’t expecting, however, was the bed.

the one bed.

behind him, y/n yawned, pushing past to be able to close the door. “what’s the matter?” she asked, before catching sight of the issue. “oh.”

it was quiet for a few moments.

chris didn’t know what to think. on the one hand, he’d be a liar if he said that this situation wasn’t on par with countless scenarios he’d daydreamed about him and y/n; the prospect of sleeping next to her— feeling her soft skin against his bare chest, the fresh scent of her shampoo filling his lungs— definitely excited him, no doubt about it. he wished they could have that every day.

on the other hand, he knew this wasn’t like all those times she had spent the night at their place over the years. back in boston, y/n split her time relatively evenly between the triplets. sure, she slept in chris’s bed occasionally, cuddling up close to him under his painfully thin comforter (often complaining that it needed replacing), but she did the same with matt and nick…. chris wasn’t special for that. here, though, in this five star hotel room… it would be just the two of them, alone every night, without so much as a connecting room with the others. it felt different, and he’d be remiss to blindly assume her comfort there.

the silence hung heavily in the air around them, creeping into awkward territory, but it seemed nobody wanted to speak first. chris glanced at y/n, who shifted her weight from one foot to the other. he tried to read her expression, but couldn’t land on anything concrete.

wanting to get ahead of the situation, to prove to y/n that her feelings were his priority, chris said in his best reassuring tone, “no worries. ’s probably just a mistake. i bet they’ll find us another room if we call the front desk.”

y/n’s heart dropped. of course chris didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as her for a whole week. that would be weird, she knew it would be. she just hadn’t expected him to suggest getting another room so quickly— knowing chris, she assumed he would make a few jokes about sharing, maybe playfully suggest she sleep on the floor (to which she would gently smack him upside the head, probably), but ultimately leave it up to her to decide. and from there, she could’ve told him it was no big deal. but now… well, she didn’t want to make him feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to.

“uh, yeah,” she cleared her throat. “yeah, let’s call, then.”

nobody mentioned the way their once-bubbly energy seemed to fall flat, like a soda that had been left out overnight. in fact, nobody said another word until chris got the concierge on the line.

y/n didn’t bother to pay any attention to the call. she was busy trying not to let her exhaustion and disappointment mark the beginning of this trip; they were supposed to have fun! she needed to shake this one minor thing off and get to vacationing. maybe a visit to the spa would—

“you’re sure? all right. no, it’s no problem. thanks. you too.”

a short huff came from chris as he placed the phone back onto the receiver. scratching the inner corner of his eye, he spoke in an apologetic voice, “they said they’re booked out.” a sympathetic smile graced his perfect lips. “’m sorry. guess you’re stuck with me.”

y/n had never tried so hard to keep her emotions off her face. relief and excitement trickled down her spine, kickstarting her brain. it was like her body forgot it was tired. but she figured chris was probably still uneasy about it, and she didn’t want to seem like a creep.

“okay,” she said, “how about we figure out plan b later? i really need this nap right now.” a minor fib— she was giddy in the moment, yes, but the second her back touched a mattress, she’d be done for.

“all right, sleeping beauty,” the triplet rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up, eye crinkling. “you take the bed, i’ll take the chair.”

“don’t be ridiculous,” she tried, hoping she wasn’t pushing her luck, “you need to sleep as much as i do, chris. come lay down.”

“are you sure? it’s no big, honest.”

she giggled, partially to lighten the mood, but also because she found this whole thing to be a bit silly. they’d cuddled countless times! waving him over, she teased, “since when are you too good to nap with me? get over here.”

the content smile on his face was all the reassurance she needed.

⁺⁎˚

chris was losing his mind.

there was no one to blame but himself. he knew agreeing to sleep with y/n (in the literal sense) would be a bad idea, but he hadn’t anticipated this.

by some random fluke, he’d woken up before their alarm went off, disoriented. it took him a few moments to realize where he was, what he was doing there, and… why his chest felt so heavy.

his breath caught. somehow, in the midst of their nap, y/n had ended up right on top of chris— her face buried in his neck, ribs expanding and contracting opposite his own. her legs, which had fallen either side of him, were slightly bent, giving him a sinful view of her ass in those yoga pants.

chris laid there for a moment or so, dumbfounded by his sudden predicament. what was the right thing to do here? he couldn’t wake her up, they still had— (he looked over at the clock)— half an hour until the alarm sounded. and moving her felt like too risky a disturbance. if anyone needed the rest right now, it was y/n.

the boy sighed, gazing at the ceiling like it might have an answer written on it. a minute passed, and just when he thought things couldn’t get more complicated— a whimper.

so faint that at first, chris figured he’d imagined it. but then came another, louder this time, and he definitely didn’t imagine that.

she must’ve been having a nightmare. his heart broke a little at the idea that she wasn’t enjoying what little sleep they were able to get after such a long trip. his arms came up to carefully hold her, rubbing her back with tender strokes so as not to startle her awake. closing his eyes, he hoped that her subconscious would recognize his comforting touch and send the bad dreams away.

“i got you, ma,” he whispered quietly, continuing the motions on her back. it didn’t seem to help— she was still tense above him.

… then the craziest thing: the girl’s hips rutting gently into his own. “chris,” y/n whined, eyes still shut tight, another whimper spilling from her mouth.

chris’s eyes shot open.

no way. she was dreaming about him?

now he was really fucked. if he didn’t move her, he’d surely be getting hard any minute, and that would be… difficult to explain, to put it simply. but if he did, and she woke up, she’d suspect he’d done so for a reason, and she’d be embarrassed either way.

“please, chris.” she sounded desperate.

chris felt like a perv, with his unconscious friend unknowingly grinding on him and whining his name into his neck. god, maybe he was dreaming; she looked so beautiful like this. but she was clearly in some level of distress, and his concern for his friend outweighed his morals.

“okay, ’s okay baby. ’m here,” he laid his cheek against the top of her head, hugging her tighter to him. “’m right here, y/n.”

he kept rubbing her back— slowly, reassuringly. y/n’s body shook in his hold, and chris had to stifle a moan as she gave a particularly hard rut of her hips, another distressed noise hitting his ears. poor thing.

“shh. c’mon, ma… you’re okay.”

eventually, y/n’s movements began to still, and soon the only sounds to be heard were her soft snores filling the room, like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

the boy beneath her stared at a spot on the wall, in shock. his best friend just had a dirty dream about him, right on top of him! what was he supposed to do now? tell her? ignore it? the thought of letting this go made his stomach churn.

what if it meant nothing? he’d had countless sexual dreams about people he wasn’t romantically interested in. (if every accidental fantasy had a deeper meaning, he’d be married to his high school algebra tutor by now.) chris couldn’t help but wonder, though…

what if it meant everything?

important. if you want to be on any of my taglists, please leave a comment on my taglist post. it’s how i keep track, and the best way for you to guarantee i won’t miss you! if i missed your username, name sure you’ve commented. if you have and i still didn’t catch it, send an ask! kisses <3

taglist. @stylessuperwhore @sofieeeeex

[dollfacies]

hot obx takes go

i hate kiara she should have died instead of jj

[delilahsturniolo]

‎ . ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁ slytherin!matt taking care of ravenclaw!reader after getting injured when dueling with him

*from the hogwarts universe*

“getting scared, slytherin?” you call from across the dueling platform, wand in hand, eyes narrowed. “or just out of practice?” matt tilts his head slightly, lips twitching like he might smile, but it never quite reaches his face. it never does. he’s all sharp edges and unreadable looks, always unreadable, except when he’s looking at you.

“keep talking, ravenclaw,” he says, stepping forward. “maybe you’ll distract me long enough to win.” you huff a quiet laugh. the professor overseeing the dueling club steps between you, eyes darting warily between you both. you’ve been paired up before, too many times. it always ends with something scorched, broken, or bruised.

“begin,” the professor says, and steps back. you barely register the word before matt moves. he’s fast. sharper than usual. the spell that leaves his wand cuts too close to your left side and you stumble, landing hard on your shoulder as your wand skitters across the floor. a few students gasp. someone curses under their breath. you feel the throb of pain spike from your arm to your ribs, and for a second, your vision goes white.

“enough!” the professor snaps, storming toward you both. “sturniolo, that was reckless. five points from slytherin.” you hear groans from matt’s housemates in the background, but everything’s buzzing your shoulder burns and your stomach turns and you don’t want anyone touching you.

but then he’s there. matt. kneeling beside you, eyes wide for once, no longer cold. “shit,” he mutters, brushing his hand carefully over your uninjured side. “you—fuck, i didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” you blink up at him. “then why’d you?” he doesn’t answer. just helps you sit up, gentler than you expect.

your professor waves over a prefect to escort you to the infirmary, but matt says, “i’ve got her.” and no one argues. he doesn’t speak as he leads you through the castle, his hand warm around your wrist, his touch steady and firm. you don’t realize you’re not going to the hospital wing until the walls turn darker and the torches green.

“this isn’t—”

“my dorm has salves,” he mutters. “stuff i brewed. better than what pomfrey gives out.” you don’t push. you’re too tired. you’ve been inside the slytherin common room before, too many times. it’s quiet when he walks you through, barely anyone around. dark stone, emerald light, soft mossy carpets that don’t match the energy of the people who live here.

he doesn’t say anything as he sits you down on a velvet-cushioned bench near the fire, kneels again at your side, and vanishes your robe with a flick of his wand. “arm,” he says quietly. you extend it. slowly.

his touch is gentle when he rolls up your sleeve. you hiss when he presses near your collarbone and he immediately freezes. “sorry,” he breathes, voice low. “fuck, that’s bruised bad.” you’re watching him now. the crease in his brow. the way his jaw ticks. how quiet he’s gone.

“you’ve never hit me that hard before,” you whisper. he doesn’t look at you. uncaps a jar of pale green salve and warms it between his fingers.

“wasn’t thinking.”

“you always think.”

he pauses. then finally looks up. his eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen. and it makes your chest twist. “not when i’m around you.” you swallow. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he doesn’t answer. just presses the salve gently into your skin, his fingertips brushing slow, careful circles into your shoulder. it’s silent, except for the fire crackling beside you.

you feel the burn fade. but your pulse doesn’t. “why are you being nice to me?” you ask quietly. “you don’t even like me.” his hands still. he looks up again. “i don’t know what i feel when it comes to you,” he says simply. like that’s the answer. like that’s enough.

you hold his stare. “that’s not comforting.”

“i’m not trying to be comforting.”

you let out a shaky breath. his hand is still resting against your arm. he hasn’t moved it. “you’re not what i thought you were,” you whisper. he leans in slightly. “you never are either.” the air between you shifts. it always does, but this time it feels heavier. quieter. like something is about to tip.

you don’t kiss him. you just sit there, your knees touching, his hand still warm on your skin, his stare too deep. and you let yourself wonder if this is the moment you’ll stop being able to pretend you feel nothing for him. because you don’t hate him. not really. and that’s starting to scare you.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: more gryffindor!chris and some cute platonic moments with hufflepuff!nick coming soon i swear

[sturnsrecord]

the amount of jeremiah screen time is actually making my head hurt, i feel like i can’t watch this shit

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P16)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: Well well well- guess whose back. Thought I'd do a little surprise drop just for the plot BAHAHAH. Lets see, more drama obviously cause our girl cant catch a break, more domestic bunny and rafe and a little special feature for our girl Naomi cause I've missed her. I love Sarah Cameron. As the end of the series draws nearer I lowkey feel kinda emotional, I feel like nothings ever gonna beat rafe and bunny for me. 1 more chapter after this to go my loves x

warnings: allusions to sex, angst, violence (yelling/arguing) (jj pmo), mentions of past abuse (bruises ect), soft!rafe and Soft!bunny (they're so domestic)

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13) (P14) (P15) (P16)

The soft hum of tires against the road was the only sound cutting through the silence inside the twinkie. Sarah sat up front, leaning her elbow against the open window as her fingers tapped against her thigh. Her eyes flicked between the side mirror and John B’s profile. The brunette boy’s hands were tight on the steering wheel very much mirroring the tense mood in the backseat. Pope sat beside JJ, who was slumped against the wall of the van, head resting back, his phone clutched in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him anchored. JJ’s eyes were trained on the screen, scrolling through the messages he’d sent Y/N-  all left on read.

“I’m sorry I should’ve said something”

“I should’ve stopped him”

“I was just in shock”

“Come home”

“You're still my sister no matter what”

“I love you”

He blinked hard, jaw tightening as he shoved the heel of his palm against his eye, like he could push down the sting building behind it. “C’mon, man,” Pope said quietly, nudging him with his shoulder. 

“You’ve been moping for two days straight.”

“I’m not moping,” JJ muttered.

“You’re definitely moping” 

Sarah piped up from the front seat, not turning around. “You haven’t said a word since we left the Chateau.” “I just…” JJ sighed finally shifting upright, placing his hands into the floor of the van and pushing himself up slightly,

“I don’t get how she could cut us off like this.”

“She’s not thinking like that,” Pope said gently. “She just needs time. After everything with your dad and Rafe-”

“-don’t say his name” 

JJ snapped, a little too quickly. His voice cracked with it and he clenched his jaw and turned his face back toward the window. Pope leaned forward a bit, trying to bridge the gap. 

“Look, we’re gonna grab Sarah’s stuff, then we’ll look for her. Maybe she just… needed space? That doesn’t mean she’s gone forever dude.”

JJ didn’t respond, just glanced back down at his phone, the screen dark now.

No new notifications

No answer from her

The Twinkie came to a slow stop outside the metal gates, the loud rattle of the van’s engine stark against the immaculate house before them. Inside the van, Kiara leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the grand front entrance.

“You still got the key?” 

She asked, glancing at Sarah. The blonde girl pulled her tote bag into her lap and rummaged through it, the jingle of metal briefly filling the space before she held up a single key. 

“Yeah I do.”

“What if he’s changed the locks?”

Cleo raised a brow from the back, arms crossed. Sarah let out an unimpressed scoff, already opening her door. 

“I’d like to think he’s not that petty.”

From the driver’s seat, John B snorted. “Yeah right, you’ve clearly never met him”

Sarah shot him a dry stare as she swung her legs out the door and hopped out. The rest of the group followed- door creaking, feet hitting the pavement, the usual shuffling of trainers on the floor. Once she was facing the tall front gate Sarah paused, then turned, arms folded tight across her chest, scanning the group all lined up behind her.

“You’re all coming?!”

The rest of them exchanged a look, a quick unspoken conversation bouncing between the Pogues like a game of mental ping-pong. Then John B stepped forward with a shrug.

“Uh… yeah?”

Kiara raised a brow, “What, you thought we were gonna just sit in the van like unpaid Uber drivers... ?”

Sarah stood at the tall black gate, her fingers punching in the familiar code on the silver keypad. A faint beep… then a soft click. The gate creaked open slowly, and she gave it a push, slipping through the gap as the others quietly followed behind her one by one. JJ paused just before crossing the threshold, glancing up at the looming house beyond the hedges. He swallowed hard, thumb still brushing the corner of his phone screen inside his pocket.

The six of them walked in a tight, quiet cluster up the long cobblestone driveway. The sound of gravel crunching under their shoes was the only thing breaking the silence. Sarah looked over her shoulder, voice low but firm.

“Okay, just- keep quiet. I don’t know if he’s home.”

Pope turned back slightly toward JJ, who was trailing behind the group, his gaze flicking up toward the house’s tall windows. “You good?” Pope murmured but JJ didn’t answer at first.

It was his fault that all of this had happened. 

His fault Y/N had gone radio silent and disappeared without a word. 

His fault she was even in this mess to begin with.

JJ could feel it- this sharp, burning fury crawling up the back of his throat and settling heavy in his chest just at the thought of him. He swallowed it down, his jaw tight and his fingers twitching with the urge to hit something. 

Anything. 

Him.

His hand clenched briefly, then he gave Pope a stiff nod before looking back to Sarah who was already climbing the few steps to the grand double doors, her fingers gripping the key. She turned back to them one more time.

“Last chance to turn around.”

Cleo gave her a look, “We already broke in- might as well finish the job.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light crept slowly across the living room, golden rays spilling in through the sheer curtains. It stretched across the floorboards and kissed the edge of the couch before it climbed its way up and reached them tangled together in their sleep. Y/N was still curled on Rafe’s chest, her cheek pressed to his bare skin- the slow rise and fall of his breathing lulling her deeper into rest. The blanket they’d pulled over themselves sometime in the night had slipped down to their waists leaving their upper bodies exposed to the warmth of the sun. His hand, large and steady, remained protectively across her back, holding her to him even in sleep.

However their soft morning stillness was soon broken.

Rafe stirred first his brow furrowing as a sound reached him through the haze of sleep; the faint, unmistakable rattle of a door handle being twisted repeatedly, followed by the subtle click of a lock. His eyes snapped open fully now and he sat up slowly, his hand still staying firm against Y/N’s back to support her where she lay curled against him. For a second, he held his breath and listened.

Another click.

Then the quiet creak of the front door swinging open.

Y/N shifted against him at the sudden movement, her lashes fluttering before her voice mumbled groggy with sleep, 

“What’s going on…?”

“I don’t know, I-” Rafe’s voice was still thick with sleep but before he could finish muffled voices echoed from the front of the house, indistinct at first but quickly growing clearer.

“Just shut up guys, c’mon”

“Ow! John B- that’s my foot!” 

“Why are you literally standing on my ass then Kie?”

Y/N went rigid on his chest as she sat up and turned her wide, panicked eyes toward Rafe. All the colour drained from her face. Her voice came out in a frantic whisper, 

“What are they doing here?!”

Rafe was already sitting up, scanning the room with quick eyes the sleepy fog gone in an instant.

“C’mon” 

He hissed under his breath. Y/N sat up fast, clutching the blanket to her chest as her heart thundered in her ribcage. They scrambled, hands, fabric and limbs moving in frantic coordination. She chucked his sweatpants at him as he stood, pulling them on in one rough motion, still shirtless. She whisper-yelled, glancing around in panic.

“Where the fuck did you throw my clothes?!” 

“I don’t know- Jesus, I wasn’t exactly thinking about where I tossed them at the time!” 

Rafe whispered back, eyes sweeping the room. She let out a sharp breath, the blanket still wrapped tight around her like a towel, standing barefoot in the middle of the sudden chaos that their peaceful morning had escalated to. Her bra was nowhere in sight. Her jeans- gone.

And her panties?

She spotted them thrown over the lampshade by the couch. 

Of course

Rafe was halfway across the room, crouched behind the coffee table when the sound of footsteps grew louder before coming to a sudden stop and when Y/N whipped around to look in the direction of the sound,

Sarah was standing there having stopped dead in her tracks.

Her eyes landed on Y/N, wrapped in nothing but a blanket and then flicked to Rafe, shirtless and breathless. Her mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god.”

The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. Y/N’s eyes went wide as Sarah blinked unmoving, once then twice like her brain was rebooting. They were all just standing there- frozen in a silence so thick it was becoming suffocating. Y/N’s fingers clenched tighter around the blanket at her chest and Rafe’s shoulders were tense, his jaw locked. Sarah looked like she’d just walked into an alternate universe, eyes flicking between the two of them, lips parted like she didn’t know what to say first. Rafe’s sharp voice broke the silence, 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I- I was just-”

Sarah’s lips moved but no more sound came out. She blinked again as she took a breath to speak but then a voice cut through the tension, whisper echoing in from the hallway with a clueless lilt.

“Hey Sarah, where’d you go…?”

Y/N froze.

No

No no no—

Her heart stopped cold.

She didn’t even have time to react before JJ rounded the corner. His steps slowed the second he saw them, his sister and Rafe; half-dressed, clothes scattered on the floor, the blanket wrapped around her, Rafe shirtless, her bra- right fucking there- thrown over the back of the couch. JJ’s entire body stiffened as his eyes locked on her, then Rafe, then down to the floor and back up again and then his face twisted.

“What the fuck.”

“Jay—” Y/N stepped forward instinctively, her voice breathless as she reached a hand out. 

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“-not what it looks like?” he scoffed.

“Are you serious right now?”

His voice cracked around the edges, a mix of rage and betrayal bleeding through every syllable that left his mouth. His chest rose and fell in quick, angry breaths as he stared at his sister- the one who’d ghosted him for two days, ignored his texts and had his heart breaking- and now had Rafe fucking Cameron standing next to her. “You disappeared,” he spat. 

“You don’t answer me and this is why?”

“JJ-” Rafe warned, stepping forward slightly but JJ’s glare whipped to him like fire catching gasoline.

“Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“Stop it, okay?” 

Y/N suddenly snapped, stepping into the wide space between them before JJ could say anything more. Her voice trembled slightly but there was still sternness in her tone,

“You have no idea what’s going on.”

JJ let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head like she was actually insane. He spoke out, arms outstretched mockingly to gesture between Y/N and the boy standing next to her, his voice dripping in sarcasm. 

“Oh I’m pretty sure I know exactly what’s going on” 

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s jaw clenched but JJ didn’t seem to hesitate or hold back. He was too angry, too heartbroken, certainly too blindsided by his fury to bite his tongue.

“Looks like what Dad said was right.”

The words hit her like a slap and her breath caught in her throat, the blanket still clutched in her fingers, but looser now. Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything because she knew exactly what JJ meant. Those words- those vile, disgusting things her father screamed at her before he kicked her out- they were still fresh in her mind, still echoing in her skull on loop. And now JJ, her own brother, was throwing them in her face too? Her chest tightened and the burn started behind her eyes before she could stop it. There was a sudden sound of shuffling growing louder in the hallway, before the rest of the Pogues walked in, their eyes landing on the scene in front of them. Pope slowed confused, and Cleo and Kiara’s brows furrowed. But John B took one look at Y/N’s tear-filled eyes and JJ practically vibrating with rage a few feet opposite her and he muttered under his breath quietly but unmistakably clear-

“Oh shit.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened when he saw her. Y/N’s eyes were glassy, her hand trembling slightly where it clutched the blanket against her chest and her shoulders had drawn in, like she was trying to make herself smaller. She wasn't going to be treated like this, not in front of him under his roof. “Alright,” Rafe muttered stepping forward slowly and dangerously calm, 

“You need to leave.”

“Get the fuck outta my face” 

JJ spat his eyes snapped to Rafe, shoving him back with both hands. Rafe stumbled a step, but the fury that flashed in his eyes was immediate. John B’s voice cut in, trying to de-escalate the sudden storm that had erupted in the room, 

“Okay man, I think we should-”

“No!” JJ barked spinning toward him. 

“NO! I’m not fucking leaving, alright?!”

Then he turned back on his heel to Y/N, stepping toward her with betrayal bleeding out of every pore. He jabbed his finger in her direction angrily,

“I can’t fucking believe you would do this to me! Seriously?! After everything that we’ve- he’s tormented us for years, and now you’re here- what- sucking his dick?!”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief backing away a step, her bare feet quiet against the hardwood. She felt like the wind had been punched out of her lungs. “Hey!” Rafe shouted, stepping between them like a shield. 

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

And then- he shoved JJ, hard. The blonde Pogue stumbled back, his chest still heaving. It looked like he was ready to throw a punch back in the Kook’s direction but then Y/N’s voice cracked through the standoff, pleading and desperate.

“JJ that’s not what this is, I swear- just listen to me please”

Her voice was breaking now, tears slipping down her cheeks despite her best effort to swallow them down. Her eyes bounced between the two boys, panic setting in as it all spiraled out of control. John B took JJ by the arm, yanking him back before anything worse could happen.

“Just chill out.” 

He muttered harshly under his breath, glancing toward the others. Pope was already stepping in too, grabbing JJ’s other side with a firm hand. 

“C’mon calm down.”

But Rafe wasn’t paying attention to them, instead his body was angled blocking Y/N from JJ’s view. His hand gently found her back, trying to ground her as she appeared visibly shook, her breaths short and quick. Sarah stood frozen near the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, this was her fault. She brought them here. She didn’t even think about the possibility of her being here. JJ shrugged both boys off with a rough jerk of his shoulders and suddenly, his voice cracked through the air again like a whip, 

“You’re not a Maybank, you know that?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, her voice small and cracking, “what… what are you talking about?”

“A Maybank would never betray their own blood” 

JJ’s eyes were glossy now too and Y/N flinched like he’d hit her. Her lips parted trembling, her whole body shivering despite the blanket still clutched around her. 

“Jay I love you, you're still my broth-” 

Her voice broke as small sobs bubbled out of her chest now, no longer hidden. Her throat felt raw. Rafe turned instantly, cupping her cheek and whispering urgently shielding her from the looks of the rest of them.

 “Hey, hey- shh- it’s okay, it’s okay” 

In the back Kiara was already pushing past Pope and John B, her palm landing square on JJ’s chest with force. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she hissed. “That’s your sister— what the hell are you doing?!” JJ’s jaw was clenched, fists balled at his sides, his eyes bore into Y/N, who was curled slightly into Rafe now, like she was a stranger.

"Guess selling yourself came easier than telling me the truth"

Y/N let out the softest, broken gasp- a wounded sound that barely passed her lips. Rafe stiffened, his entire body went rigid, jaw clenched and he turned on his heel so fast it startled even Cleo.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” 

Rafe’s voice boomed through the room like thunder. 

“NOW!”

JJ didn’t flinch, he didn’t move either but John B and Pope didn’t wait. They grabbed him- each taking one arm- dragging him back toward the hall as he thrashed back against them, with gritted teeth and burning eyes.

“Let me go- fuck- LET GO OF ME-”

They’d already pulled him out, and his shouting faded into muffled echoes down the corridor. The front door slammed and silence followed. Y/N was shaking in Rafe’s arms, hands fisted in the material of the blanket around her. He just held her tighter, his hand cradling the back of her head, the other rubbing soothing circles down her spine. Behind them, Sarah stood still, guilt choking her. “Rafe,” she said quietly, voice breaking. 

“I didn’t know. I swear- I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t even know she was here- I’m sorry, I-”

Rafe sighed, long and slow, his hand never leaving Y/N’s back. He glanced over his shoulder tired, 

“Sarah… just go.”

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat, gave one last look at Y/N crumpled against him, then turned and walked out without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe’s bedroom was dim and quiet, except for the low hum of the fan overhead and the occasional rustle of sheets as Y/N shifted beneath them. She laid on the large queen-size mattress, an oversized t-shirt of his covering her frame. The door creaked open gently and Rafe stepped in, balancing a mug firmly in his hand. He murmured, setting it down on the bedside table with a soft clink.

“Brought you something,” 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head, then he sank onto the bed beside her, laying on his side to face her, his head resting in the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the cushions. Y/N blinked at him through her lashes before turning to properly look at him, her voice still somewhat hoarse but nevertheless teasing. 

“I didn’t know Rafe Cameron knew how to make tea.”

“Yeah well, I’d learn how to make that weird green drink you like if you wanted.”

Her brow lifted as he gave her a smile.

“Matcha?”

“That thing.” 

He nodded like it was some foreign concept, not that he drank anything outside of black coffee. Her smile cracked through her exhaustion and Rafe watched her carefully for a second before brushing a hand against her arm, fingers sliding up and down the exposed skin, soft to the touch.

“You okay?”

She hesitated, her lips parting as if the answer was trying to form, but never quite managed to get out. “Yeah, I guess I just…” Finally, she let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how I expected him to find out but… that wasn’t it.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Rafe’s expression dimmed and he kissed his teeth before letting out a deep breath himself. She shook her head immediately, voice gentle.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well…. I sorta think it is.”

Y/N shuffled herself closer towards him, propping her own elbow against the pillow, letting her rest her head on her hand. Her eyes met his and she tilted her head a little before humming as though deep in though, 

“Hmmm… that’s a little awkward then”

That pulled a soft laugh out of him, “Yeah, just a bit.”

They laid there like that for a beat before slowly, like he couldn't help himself, he pushed forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His hand came up to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing over the skin just beneath her eye. When he pulled back, his eyes flickered down to the fading bruise along her cheekbone,

"It looks better."

She nodded slowly, lips pressing together, “Mmhmm.” But her eyes were distant, like her mind was still somewhere back in that living room. Rafe stayed close, his hand still holding her face like he was anchoring her to the present. His thumb gently traced over the curve of her jaw.

"You can talk to me" 

He said after a moment. She didn’t respond right away. Just leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as her fingers curled lightly in the fabric of his t-shirt. Then she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, "He looked at me like I was a stranger." Rafe’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything. Just let her speak, his thumb brushing slowly across her cheek. "It’s not even what he said. Not really. It’s just-" her throat tightened, 

"He meant it."

Silence settled again, thick and aching. Rafe shifted slightly closer, pressing a kiss to her temple as he let out a small sigh,

"He was hurt and angry- not that I'm defending him- but people say dumb shit when they’re angry"

"I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me."

Rafe was quiet, watching the girl as she sat up and brought her hand up to run over the arch of her brow. He sat up on the bed himself, back comfortably against the headboard as he spoke out,

"Then he’s not who you thought he was."

"He’s my baby Rafe."

Her voice was soft and breaking as she spoke, eyes glassed over again as she pulled her knees up, looping her arms around them. "I brought him up. Ever since he was a little blonde-haired toddler. I’ve looked after him, protected him- God, I used to wipe his nose and teach him how to tie his laces. I just..." She dropped her head into her palm, elbow resting against her knee her voice nearly a whisper now,

"I just want my baby back."

Rafe didn’t say anything right away. He just reached over and rested a hand on her back, rubbing slow, steady circles like he was trying to ease an invisible ache he couldn’t fix. "He’s still your baby" he murmured eventually.

"Give him time, he’ll come around."

Her eyes lifted, full of doubt, "And if he doesn’t?" 

"You still have me."

He added the words gently, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced at her. She couldn’t help it, a tiny smile bloomed on her lips too, and she nudged her shoulder into his, their arms brushing. "Well gee," she murmured, tilting her head toward him, 

"Isn’t that an upgrade."

Rafe huffed out a low laugh, his eyebrows raising, "Damn right it is," he shot back with a smirk. 

"I make you tea"

"Oh yeah, the bare minimum. You’re really setting the bar high Rafe."

Rafe smirked, then without a word, slipped his arm around her waist and gently tugged her down with him until she was lying flat against his chest. She let out a soft surprised laugh, the breath leaving her lungs as she landed against him. He looked down at her and pressed a slow, tender kiss to her lips. 

"Only the best for my girl" 

He murmured against her mouth and she giggled softly, her fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. It felt safe, easy even, but then his tone shifted, not necessarily heavy but more serious. "Speaking of that..." Her smile faltered just a little as she pulled back enough to look up at him, brow furrowing slightly.

"What...?"

He paused just for a beat  and she felt the subtle tension in his chest beneath her. "Since you're living with me now..." He trailed off again and she stayed quiet, giving him the space to speak.

"...I need you to do something for me."

She blinked her voice gentle, "Anything you want."

His jaw flexed once, he looked like he was chewing on it,  the words, the timing, the fear of saying the wrong thing to her and fucking it all up again. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and said it voice low but steady:

"I want you to stop working at the strip club."

For a second, she didn't respond. Her brows knit tighter together as she lifted herself a little more, bracing a hand on the bed beside him.

"What...?"

It wasn’t angry. Just quiet and confused. Like it didn’t compute in her mind. She blinked, eyes searching his face like she hadn’t quite heard him right. “Rafe, I—” But he was already shaking his head,

“I know. I know you don’t wanna depend on me.”

He paused, “and I respect that.” His eyes held hers as he continued, “So you can work at the country club. Hell- pick up something else, I’ll help you look. But just…” he swallowed, voice thickening slightly. 

“Please. No more dancing.” 

She sat up fully, still facing him, legs folded under herself now as she looked at him with something close to disbelief. Not irritation, just shock and surprise.

“Are you being serious...?” 

Her voice cracked a little at the end. It wasn’t judgmental, not even hesitant- just stunned. Rafe sat up too, shifting so they were eye to eye. “Yeah.” His voice didn’t waver,

“Let me take care of you.”

Her breath caught as he continued,  “You don’t have to work yourself to the bone just to survive anymore, not with me.” His hand moved to hers, threading his fingers gently with hers like he was afraid she’d pull away.

“I know you’re strong and you’ve always figured it out yourself but…” 

She didn’t say anything right away. Just looked down at their hands, her thumb brushing across his knuckles and then, quietly, almost like a whisper:

“Okay.”

She leaned forward slowly, 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips and he let out a quiet breath of relief then leaned in, pressing a warm lingering kiss to her lips, his thumb brushing her jaw. When he pulled back, a small smirk replaced the softness. “But… those cute little sets you’ve got-” His voice dropped an octave, playful now.

“You’ll still wear them for me, right?”

She let out an incredulous laugh, shoving him back against the mattress with both hands on his chest.

“You’re gross Cameron.”

He threw his hands up like he was surrendering, innocent of all charges that she was throwing at him, “What? I’m asking a reasonable question…” She bit back a grin as she swung her leg over his lap, settling comfortably against his thighs before leaning down, “Sure,” she murmured against his lips, kissing him again,

“The little sets are only for you now...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat tucked into the corner of a cozy little coffee shop, her fingers curled around a warm latte, although it remained untouched as her eyes kept drifting to the table across from her. A young couple sat there, blissfully unaware of anything but their baby. The mom had the little girl perched on her hip, bouncing her gently while the father reached out, making silly faces. The toddler giggled, tiny hands opening and closing as she made eager little grabby hands toward her dad’s face, like she couldn’t get enough of him. Her childish laughter rose above the soft clinking of dishes and quiet conversation around the cafe, a pure sound that made something ache in Y/N’s chest. She blinked, dragging her eyes back to the steam curling up from her drink just in time to hear a voice behind her:

“Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in.”

Y/N turned, already smiling before she even saw her. Naomi’s arms were crossed, one hip popped out slightly, oversized sunglasses perched on her head and her long acrylics drumming against her bicep. She looked dead serious, her expression tight.

But then she cracked.

“You bitch.” 

She broke into a grin striding forward, Y/N stood up and was immediately wrapped in a tight, vanilla-scented hug. Naomi squeezed her like she meant it, “Hey, ‘Omi,” Y/N mumbled into her shoulder, suddenly breathless from how much she'd missed her. The girl pulled back, holding her at arm’s length.

“I was this close to filing a missing persons case. You had me picturing you dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve been busy.”

Y/N laughed and Naomi raised a brow, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Busy, huh?”

She looked Y/N up and down now, really taking her in; the clean hair, the soft looking oversized sweater, the lack of her brows drawn down in worry like they usually were and she narrowed her eyes slightly, legs crossing at the knee as she folded her arms 

“This better not be 'cause of your little boy toy.”

Y/N went quiet, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile but the attempt didn’t last long. A grin cracked through. Naomi pointed at her triumphantly with a finger, “I knew it. I knewww it.” She tossed her braided hair over her shoulder pridefully,

“I had a feeling, you know, and my feelings are never wrong.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, rubbing a hand over her cheek, the bruise having faded- which she was grateful for as she knew Naomi would be asking questions otherwise.

“Are you mad at me?”

Naomi didn’t answer at first. She reached across the table, slid Y/N’s untouched latte toward herself, and took a slow unbothered sip like it belonged to her. She placed the cup down onto the small plate with a clink and then she looked to her,

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you Bunny?”

“I don’t know… 'cause I just like disappeared without a word?”

Naomi clicked her tongue with a small shake of her head in agreement, “Okay, yeah. I was mad. A little mad.” She held up two fingers, like an inch apart to try to reflect the annoyance she had at the girl, but she quickly waved her hand in Y/N’s direction as she continued, “But I’m not gonna hold it against you girl and besides you’ve seen me mad.” Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line, amused, before speaking out,  

“I’ve seen you drag a man across a bar floor in six-inch heels.”

Naomi sat back, “Mmhmm, so trust me… if I was mad at you, you’d know.”

She picked up the cup again, her fingers wrapping around the warmth of it, took another sip, and gave a little satisfied nod. “Sorry, this is really good.” Y/N watched her, the corners of her eyes crinkling just slightly, that familiar heat blooming behind her ribs. She didn’t realise how much she’d missed this, missed Naomi, until this moment. The way she could cut through all the noise in her head without even trying. Naomi caught her looking and tilted her head.

“Are you gonna drink this or…?”

Y/N shook her head, “It’s all yours.”

Naomi grinned and pulled the cup closer, “Thanks, honey.” She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, “Sooo…” she started her eyes gleaming like she was bracing for a juicy confession, 

“Did you call me here cause you wanna know the club gossip or-”

“As tempting as that is, no. That’s not why I called you.”

Naomi tilted her head, her earrings catching the light as she gave her a mock squint. “It’s just cause you missed me, right?” Y/N gave her a look and said,

“Mmhmm. Yep. You got me there.”

That earned a full laugh from both of them, loud enough that the couple at the next table gave them a quick glance. A beat passed between them and Naomi took another sip, then glanced down at the cup before saying, “Well... I’ve missed you.” She didn’t say it like a joke, didn’t throw it out there for laughs or deflection. Just said it, quietly like it had been sitting on her chest since the last time they saw each other. Her gaze dropped to the coffee, swirling the liquid around slowly before speaking again.

“You know I don’t do emotions n’shit but... I’ve missed you.”

Y/N felt her throat catch for a second, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. Her voice was gentler when she finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Their eyes met again, and for a moment, there was nothing between them; no neon lights, no heavy music, no mirrors or backstage chaos. Just two girls with a quiet understanding of each other. Naomi gave a soft little sniff, then she straightened up, “Okay, enough of the sappy shit.” Her voice returned to its usual sharpness, but the warmth behind her eyes didn’t fade.

“So what’s up? You coming back and wanna know what time slots are free this week?” 

Y/N gave a soft breath of a laugh, but it was tight around the edges. Her gaze dropped to the table, her fingers beginning to tap out a slow rhythm against the wood grain.

“Yeah, um… it’s actually the opposite of that.”

A pause settled between them, heavy and still and then Naomi’s brows lifted slightly.

“... you’re leaving?”

Y/N didn’t speak at first. She just looked at her and then gave a quiet nod. Naomi leaned back slowly in her chair, jaw shifting like she was working through something. Her lips parted, like she might say something but then closed again.  “Damn.” She tilted her head.

“So boy toy is your sugar daddy now, huh?”

“He’s not my sugar daddy.”

Y/N let out a breath of laughter and rolled her eyes, running a fingertip over the arch of her brow. Naomi narrowed her eyes like a lawyer catching someone in a lie mid case.

“Uh-huh. Does he drive a Range Rover?”

Y/N hesitated a second too long.

“…yes?”

That broke whatever tension was left, both of them bursting into giggles once more, Naomi nearly knocking her elbow on the table as she leaned forward and Y/N hiding her face behind her hands to calm herself down, both their stomachs starting to cramp from the laughter.

“That’s what I thought. Sugar. Daddy.”

“Stop you’re embarrassing me” Y/N laughed, kicking lightly at the girl's ankle under the table. 

“He’s just… good to me. That’s all.”

Naomi tilted her head, gaze softening again- less teasing now like she knew the moment deserved more than just jokes. “Good,” she said, her voice quieter. 

“You deserve better than the club anyway.”

Y/N looked at her, throat suddenly tight, the lump forming so fast it startled her. She swallowed it down with a soft breath, eyes lingering on Naomi’s face. “So do you.” Naomi just shook her head with a slow smile tugging at her lips knowingly. “That place is my home,” she murmured. 

“And you know it.”

Y/N nodded, the motion small but full of understanding. She looked at the girl across from her; sharp-eyed, loud-mouthed, ride-or-die attitude. The one who did her lip liner for her backstage when her hands were shaking, who taught her how to count her cash fast and stand her ground even faster. “Well,” she said, her voice softer now, 

“I’m glad that it managed to lure me in.”

“And why’s that exactly?”

“Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”

Y/N gave her a small, watery smile and Naomi groaned and tipped her head back dramatically.

“God, don’t be nice to me right now. I’ll cry all over my fake Gucci.”

Y/N laughed through her sniffle and reached across the table, fingers slipping into Naomi’s, palms pressed warm together on the wood of the table top. The girl didn’t pull away, just looked down at their hands, then up at Y/N. Her voice was softer than Y/N had ever heard it.

“I’m proud of you.”

Y/N smiled, a little tremble in it as she tried, really hard, to keep it together. 

“I love you Omi.”

Naomi batted her lashes, her lips quirking upwards, “I know. I’m very lovable.”

Time passed faster than the girls expected as they sat at the table, one latte having turned to three and before they knew it the sky had started to bleed into an orange hue. Naomi let out a long breath, giving Y/N’s hand one last squeeze before letting go, she spoke out her voice light but eyes serious.

“You better come visit”

“Duh- you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.”

They both stood, half-laughing, half-lingering, until Naomi finally pulled her into a tight hug, not one of their usual playful ones, but something full and real and grounding. The bell jingled above them as they pushed the door open, the cool breeze brushing against their skin. “Get outta here Bunny,” she spoke waving her hand at Y/N dismissively, 

“Go live your domestic dream.”

“Oh shut up” Y/N said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” Naomi added, “and you tell little mr ‘trust fund’ that if he breaks your heart, I’m showing up with my six-inch heels.”

“He won’t.” Y/N’s voice was soft but certain and Naomi looked at her, then nodded. 

“Yeah. I don’t think he will either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late afternoon sun poured in through the wide windows of the country club, casting golden light across the polished marble floor. Outside, golfers milled about on the manicured green, their drinks in hand and voices drifting in through the open terrace doors. Inside, it was still pleasant, the weather having gotten warmer as the month progressed. It was quiet, the lull between lunch and dinner when the bar only saw the occasional regulars. Y/N stood behind it, restocking glasses with practiced ease. The air was soft with the scent of freshly cut lemon slices and citrus gin, the low murmur of conversation from a few older members huddled at a corner table the only background noise. She didn’t hear footsteps, but she felt it shift in the atmosphere when someone’s eyes were fixed on you. She straightened, turned toward the presence with a polite smile already in place. “What can I get you?” And then she saw who it was.

“…Oh.” 

Her smile faltered just slightly. 

“Hi- What can I get you?”

Sarah Cameron stood on the other side of the bar, hair pulled back into a loose pony tail, eyes steady on hers. There was no malice in them, just… something unreadable. For a moment Y/N wondered how Sarah had even managed to get in, she was pretty sure Rafe was the only Cameron with a membership.

“Can we talk?” 

Sarah asked plainly, albeit a quiet sense of nervousness could be heard, and Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at the mostly empty bar. Only three patrons sat at the far end, half-watching the golf tournament on the mounted TV. “Well,” she said, brushing her hands on a bar towel, 

“I’m kind of on the clock right now… but we can talk here.”

“Here’s fine.”

Y/N nodded once as she reached behind her and poured a glass of water, sliding it across the counter toward Sarah like a peace offering. Y/N reached for a dry towel, wiping it across a damp glass with smooth motion. It gave her something to do with her hands, something to focus on while Sarah settled into the stool opposite her. There was a pause, not awkward but thick with whatever Sarah had come here to say. Finally, the blonde girl across the counter spoke. “I, um…” Sarah cleared her throat, resting her elbows on the bar. 

“I’m sorry. For showing up at the house like that. I wasn’t trying to… interrupt anything.”

Y/N gave a small dry laugh, her eyes still focused on the glass in her hands, “You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Still,” Sarah pressed gently, “I wasn’t trying to catch you off guard. I didn’t know you and my brother were… you know.”

That made Y/N pause for a second, the rhythm of her hands slowing just slightly. “Yeah uh” she murmured, setting the glass down. 

“It’s… recent.”

Sarah nodded, then twisted her fingers together on the bartop.

“I just— I didn’t mean to cause a thing with you and JJ. I didn’t know about any of that, I swear, and after the fight that night, I just kept thinking, like… if I hadn’t come by, maybe things wouldn’t’ve blown up like they did-”

“-Sarah.”

Y/N finally looked up, her face softening and she shook her head once, firmly.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment and the hum of the golf announcer on the TV drifted lazily in the background. Y/N busied her hands again, reaching for another glass, wiping it clean. Her voice was gentler now when she spoke again.

“Things were already tense with JJ… you just happened to walk in at the wrong time.”

Sarah’s brow furrowed slightly, guilt still resting behind her eyes, but she nodded slowly.

“I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it on purpose. I really didn’t know.”

Y/N gave her a faint, appreciative smile, “I know you didn’t.”

The quiet settled between them again like an unsure fog. Sarah fidgeted with the edge of a paper napkin from the counter, folding and unfolding it absently. Y/N had gone back to cleaning glasses, her movements smooth but just a touch too focused  like she was trying not to feel the heat of Sarah’s gaze as she suddenly spoke,

"Y/N, my brother... he’s not exactly the type to-"

Y/N let out a short breath and cut in, her voice firm but not harsh, "Look, Sarah. If you're here to lecture me about Rafe, I really—" her eyes flicked up, guarded now, 

"I really don't need that. Okay?"

Sarah opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but Y/N kept going.

"I get it. He’s your brother and you’ve seen him at his worst, but so have I.”

She stopped wiping the glass, placed it carefully on the drying mat, and rested both hands on the edge of the bar. Sarah hesitated, then leaned in just slightly, voice quieter now but still threaded with concern.

"I'm sorry but- it's Rafe. I've known him my whole life and he’s never been the type to help people, not unless there’s something in it for him. I’m just worried that maybe he sees you’re in a rough position and he’s just..." she trailed off not finishing the sentence and Y/N blinked slowly at her, jaw tightening. Then she shook her head. "Stop..." she exhaled, eyes flicking downward. 

"Stop"

Her voice cracked just slightly as she pushed the towel aside and her shoulders dropped a little. “No one has helped me the past few months the way he has. No one.” Her eyes draw away from the counter to meet Sarah’s,  

“He’s been there for me in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you because you wouldn’t believe me.”

Sarah’s expression softened at that and she watched her quietly for a beat, lips parted like she might speak. Then her voice came quieter than before,

“Yes I would...”

Y/N looked at Sarah for a long moment. And all she could see was a girl who was open, understanding. Someone who wanted to know the truth rather than take it away and further spin it into a web of lies. She let out a breath less defensive this time, “I finish my shift at seven today,” she murmured, glancing out the window where the afternoon sun was beginning to lower. 

“Meet me outside by the staff car park and I’ll tell you everything.”

Sarah gave a small nod and Y/N turned, picked up the next glass. 

The cool evening air wrapped around them as they stood outside the club, the faint hum of the island's nightlife carrying in the background. Y/N leaned against the brick wall, the weight of the conversation she was having heavy on her shoulders. Sarah stood beside her, silent, but there was an understanding in her posture now. She was quiet- the whole time. She didn't interrupt once, just listened, waiting for Y/N to speak, to unload everything she had been holding in. 

Y/N took a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air as she exhaled slowly. She raised her hand and offered it to Sarah, who smiled politely and shook her head. They stood silent for a moment, the quiet between them thick like the smoke rising from Y/N’s lips, but somehow it was comfortable. “No one knows this,” Y/N continued, her voice barely a whisper now. 

“No one but me and Rafe… and now you.” 

Sarah’s face softened with understanding, her eyes filled with empathy after having listened to Y/N, like a priest at confession. She exhaled slowly her words quiet, 

“JJ is pretty mad at you,” Sarah said her voice careful but not accusatory, “I don’t think he understands why you’d—” 

“-that’s not my problem anymore.” 

Y/N cut her off, her tone sharper than she meant. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration before pursing her lips and shaking her head softly, speaking out, 

“You heard what he said… ‘I’m not a Maybank.’ ” 

She repeated the words, as if to remind herself just how much they stung. Sarah looked at her for a long moment, “It’s not that simple, Y/N. He’s hurting. JJ cares about you- more than he lets on. And he doesn’t know how to deal with this. I know it’s not easy, but I think you two need to talk.” 

Y/N shook her head again, almost to herself this time. “I don’t know if I can. It’s not about JJ anymore. I can’t keep trying to fix things with him. I've been doing that for too long- I’ve always made sure he’s happy Sarah, but now… I think I should focus on what’s best for me.” 

Sarah gave a small understanding nod, her eyes flickering down to the cigarette in Y/N’s hand, the older girl noticed, causing her to hold it up to her. Sarah took it, lifting it to her lips and taking a slow pull. The smoke lifting above the two of them like a small cloud.

“I get it. But I think you owe it to yourself to have that conversation with him to tell him what's really going on.” 

Y/N exhaled slowly, sliding down the wall so she was crouching by the floor, tapping the cigarette ash onto the paving on the floor. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, but deep down, she knew it was something that needed to happen. 

She owed it to herself 

And to JJ

The quiet between them stretched on, thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The last of the cigarette smoke curled up into the night air, disappearing into the sky as if it was never even there. Y/N stared at the glowing ember on the floor beside her, the weight of everything she had just said settling deep inside her.

"I... I love your brother Sarah." 

The words hung in the air as she suddenly spoke out, her voice trembling slightly, as if confessing it out loud to someone else except for him made it more real. Y/N didn’t look up. She couldn’t. Her eyes were fixed somewhere near the dark patch of pavement between her shoes, her heart thrumming beneath her ribs. Sarah’s expression softened, her eyes widening a little in surprise. She had never imagined hearing those words come from Y/N’s lips- not because she didn’t believe it but because she never thought anyone would be brave enough to admit that about him.

Her brother?

Sarah was silent as if trying to find the right words, but Y/N was too focused on the quiet to look at her. It wasn’t until Sarah’s voice broke the stillness that Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Sarah’s. “I think he loves you too,” Sarah said, 

 “From what I can tell... I think he loves you a lot.”

Y/N finally looked up at that and Sarah pushed off from where she’d been leaning and crouched down besides her, her back against the same wall now, their shoulders a few inches apart. She rested her arms over her bent knees, then looked sideways at Y/N who gave her a small, tired smile and Sarah, after a beat, said gently but plainly,

“But... I know JJ loves you too.”

Y/N’s smile faded, and she stared ahead for a beat, her throat tightening as she let out a breath through her nose. Sarah didn’t say anything after that, almost as though afraid she’d pushed too hard. The older girl whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost lost to in the cool breeze of the evening,

"I don't know if I'm allowed to love them both"

“I think that’s for you to decide…”

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[sturnioz]

‘SURPRISE’ — CHRIS STURNIOLO

pairing. fratboy!chris x shy!reader. genre. smut, frat au.

word count. 2.6k

❝i... i've been practicing something for you.❞

content warning. explicit content, porn with plot, slight mentions of insecurities and anxiety, awkward sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampies.

authors note. i dont usually do small fics like this for my aus, but i thought this would be fun for a small bday special. this is for my fratboy!chris and shy!reader au which, if you're new, you may need to read other prompts just to understand their dynamic.

You’ve always been the type of person who always goes way overboard for someone's birthday, wanting to find the perfect gift(s) to show your love, appreciation and gratitude toward the person who is celebrating their special day.

In the past, you've splurged on expensive gifts that left your bank account in shambles. You've made personal gifts from scratch, leaving your hands and fingers littered in paper cuts that are way too small to have that much of a painful effect. You've wandered through countless stores, pacing aisles from sunrise to sunset to find the perfect gift.

But this specific gift? the one you’re planning for Chris?

Yeah… this one is different. maybe extreme, even. the kind of gift that has your face burning up just thinking about it.

It started as a passing thought. Then, you overthink it, repeating his words in your head over and over again from the last time he brought this specific thing up to you. and that's when you started doing research—way too much of it, by the way.

Video after video, article after article, you were consuming so much information that you even had to pause what you were watching just to collect yourself and have a breather, reaching for a glass of water with trembling hands as anxiety swam through your veins.

And when you brought it up to Bee and Kitty?

Big mistake.

... Okay, maybe not that much of a mistake considering they were supportive and giving you suggestions like you asking for guidance on how to ride Chris wasn't a big deal. You must've spent half of the conversation hiding your face behind your palms, too embarrassed to even look at them.

Nonetheless, you took it all in, drilled their words into your brain, and you arrived back home to practice on your pillow. Your thighs burned from strain, your hips ached and you embarrassingly came once—maybe twice—while doing so, and it made you rethink the entire birthday surprise while sitting in the bath with a deep frown on your lips.

But you can't back out now. You can't be a quitter on this—not when you've already come this far.

So, you're going through with it the best you can... hopefully.

On the big day, you take your time getting ready, needing every second to hype yourself up. you slip into your prettiest dress to help make you feel just a little more confident, even though your heart is rattling in your chest like crazy.

You drive to the rented house early with Kitty, Bee and Nate, your fingers wrapping tightly around the steering wheel to calm the shakiness from your nerves. and when you get there, you realise most of the frat brothers have arrived already.

They're tossing balloons across the floor, stringing up strobe lights, and setting up the speakers for the music while shouting over each other.

The coolers are already halfway full with ice and fresh drinks too, so you busy yourself by helping hang up banners instead, trying your best not to check the door every five seconds... you fail, by the way. you spot Matt's car rolling up the driveway just before he turns in.

You don't even get the chance to greet the trio when they walk into the house, the people immediately swarming them, popping confetti cannons and shoving shots into their hands while screaming 'happy birthday!' at the top of their lungs.

Nick beams happily. Matt pushes through everyone to get to Kitty, wrapping his arms around her tightly and kissing her like he hasn't seen her in the last twenty-four hours. and Chris? Chris is scowling, swatting Nate's hands away and threatening him as the latter tries to shove the goofy party hat on top of his head.

You wait for a moment for the chaos to settle, and you take your time in giving matt and nick their little gift bags you made before you even dare to step in Chris' direction. and when you do, you swallow thickly when you see him already—and not surprisingly—surrounded by his regulars.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way over, giving yourself an internal pep talk with each step. Once you're close enough, you reach out, fingers brushing the sleeve of his shirt before tugging lightly at his arm to get his attention.

"Chris?" you say his name, voice barely above a whisper. "can... can i talk to you for a second?"

He furrows his brows, looking at you. "What? Right now?" he gestures toward the group with a flick of his head. "M'busy here, kid."

"Just for a minute?" you press, hoping that he'll give in so you don't look like a fool. "Please? I um... I left your gift upstairs.."

"Upstairs?" he stares at you, clearly not believing a word that has just slipped past your lips. "The fuck kinda gift you've got hidin' upstairs?"

"It's... private."

Chris stares at you again, unmoving, his gaze flat and sceptical. you shift under the weight of it, your fingers nervously curling and uncurling at your sides. Finally, Chris lets out a sharp and exasperated huff, nodding his head as he agrees to follow you.

You quickly turn around and start walking ahead of him, weaving through the crowd, doing everything you can to stay calm even as your stomach churns with each ascend up the staircase. You don't look back, but you can feel him close behind you, following your steps.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you pause at the hallway, the lump heavy in your throat as you take a quick glance at him over your shoulder, pointing at one of the many guest rooms available.

"It's in here..."

Chris raises an eyebrow but says nothing, he just exhales sharply and pushes past you to open the door to the guest room. You follow close behind, shutting the door quietly, the click of the latch feeling loud in the silence that settles between you both.

He stands in the middle of the room, arms folded and unimpressed. "Well? Where's it at, kid?"

You hesitate, your pulse racing and hands fidgeting at your sides. Then, you take a few steps toward him, your hands pressing against his firm chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt to hold it. Chris doesn't move, he doesn't pull away either, but he watches you with his eyes narrowed.

You give a soft, uncertain push at that, urging him toward the bed until the backs of his legs bump the mattress. He drops down, legs spread, leaning back on his palms as he tilts his head up to look at you.

"Y'serious?" he asks. "Dragged me away from m’business to hookup?"

You open your mouth, then close it again, face heating up with embarrassment. You're ready to bolt straight out of this room.

Chris runs his tongue across his inner cheek, his voice dipping low. "If you wanted to fuck me, bun. jus' lead with that next time."

"It's not just that, I—" you choke on your words, swallow thickly again, hands trembling as you move them down to reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up. "I... I've been practicing something for you."

"Practicin'?" he repeats, barely lifting his arms to help you take off his shirt, and you toss it to the side gently. "Practicing what? undressin' me or somethin'?"

"No," you pout a little at his mocking tone, your hands moving lower to his belt. you fumble with the buckle once—twice, fuck—and Chris sighs sharply, annoyed but still letting you try.

"Then what?" he pressed, tilting his head to the side and watching you. You finally manage to undo the belt, pulling the denim down his hips and he lifts them lazily to help, letting his jeans fall in a heap around his ankles.

Your voice is barely audible as you speak, the usual shyness seeping back into your tone. "To... ride you."

Chris blinks at you, silent—almost stunned—for a brief moment. Then the corners of his mouth twitch upward into a smirk, letting out a soft, disbelieving scoff as he drags his hand through his hair with a slow shake of his head.

You sort of knew he'd react like that, especially because he's made comments before: how awkward and clumsy you are moving above him, how you always get cramps and aches, how it's better if he does the work because watching you try to ride him like 'watching a baby deer try to walk on ice.'

The words still sting, even now.

But still... you want to try. to prove him wrong and show him that you can do it... and maybe even impress him a little.

Chris leans back some more on his palms, his eyes dark and unreadable. And then, finally, he gives a small shrug, tipping his chin up. "A'ight. Show me what you've been practicin', bun."

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself, reaching for his boxers, your fingers brushing against the warm skin of his abdomen as you tug the fabric down, gazing at his cock that's already half-hard and leaking with precum.

You're surprised to see him like this already, but that still doesn't calm the butterflies in your tummy as you pull your panties down your legs, stepping out of them and neatly placing the fabric to the side before you move forward, carefully perching yourself on top of his lap.

You feel the heat of his body beneath yours, your heart pounding against your ribs as his cock brushes against your folds, twitching and hardening to full mass. You don't dare to look at him, not when he's staring right into your soul as you take him in your hand, stroking him softly like you've seen in the countless video tutorials you had consumed as you line him up with your entrance.

You sink down bit by bit, trying to stifle a whimper as you adjust to his size that stretches you out, hearing him inhale sharply, a low grunt rumbling in his chest. It’s a lot to take in already—which is the norm—but you refuse to give in to discomfort this quickly as you begin to roll your hips, experimenting with different motions as you try to find a rhythm that works for you. 

The sensation of Chris’ cock searing you open is intense, bordering on painful at times with awkward angles, but there’s an underlying feeling that makes you want to keep going. Your still inexperienced attempts cause you to wobble slightly as you try to bounce, your breasts moving beneath your dress which catches Chris’ attention, gaze dipping down to follow their movements. 

You struggle to maintain a steady pace, often making minor mistakes which you hope Chris isn’t noticing, beads of sweat glistening across your forehead as your arms hesitantly wrap around his shoulders for balance.

Yet, once holding him, you’re able to find a rhythm. 

Your hips begin to move with slight confidence, rolling and grinding against Chris in a way that seems to secretly please him based on the low growls that vibrate in his chest, his lips parting as his breathing grows subtly heavier. His hands lift from the bed to slide around your hips, moving south to grip your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as he wets his bottom lip.

“Am I… am I doing okay?” you ask quietly, your voice breathy from exertion. You search Chris’ expression for any hint of approval or enjoyment, desperate for anything from him, wanting to know if you’re meeting his expectations as your inner walls flutter around his cock, gliding up and down steadily. 

Chris doesn’t answer right away, he just stares, unreadable as always. Then, he hums—a low sound followed by the subtlest nod. It’s barely even there, but it’s something. You feel really happy, good, encouraged, and you lean back slightly to change the angle again, gasping softly at the new wave of pleasure that trickles down your spine as his cock grazes the sensitive spot inside of you. 

You add twists of your hips and shallow rolls to mix things up, and the changes now seem to affect Chris outwardly as his grip tightens on you, quiet moans escaping his lips. You can feel your own arousal building, a tingling pressure coiling low in your tummy as you begin to hump him erratically, ignoring the burning sensation in your thighs as you mewl and whimper uncontrollably.

Now, Chris seems stuck frozen in bliss—mouth ajar with harsh pants and dazed eyes as he watches your greedy pussy ride him, slick glistening around your puffy folds, dripping onto his balls. 

His mind reels from the sudden sensations overwhelming him, every nerve ending in his body is on fire with each glide of your pussy that slides up and down on his throbbing cock, his eyebrows pulled together like he’s confused at the feeling.

“F-fuck…” he rasps, his voice hoarse and strained. “Shiiit—what the fuck…”

Whether he means to or not, his head falls back, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open wider to suck in deep breaths, and feeling his body tense beneath yours, you immediately realise he’s close too. 

You wish you could feel a sense of pride right now, having worked so hard to get to this point, but you’re too cock drunk to even take time in basking in your success, slumping weakly against his chest despite your hips still moving, clinging to him embarrassingly tight as you cry out in his ears. 

Chris lets out a loud, guttural moan, his hips jerking up involuntarily as he buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside your pussy with thick ropes of cum, his cock twitching and pulsing with each spurt as he empties himself inside of you. Your pussy clamps down on him, your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks on his skin as you wail, cumming around him in an instant. 

It takes you longer than necessary to regain yourself, and you make the first move by slowly sliding off him, wincing as your muscles protest the movement and pussy ache as he slips out. A soft whimper leaves your lips as you collapse onto your side, the room spinning slightly as you try to catch your breath, forcing yourself to glance at Chris.

Chris just sits there, chest rising and falling steadily, cock laying limp against his thigh. His brows remained furrowed—surprisingly, not in annoyance. More like confusion or contemplation. 

But you don’t like how quiet it is, though. It’s almost too quiet.

You open your mouth to speak, to apologise for god knows what, but Chris cuts in. “Don’t.”

You blink. “Don’t…?”

Chris turns his head just enough to look at you. Is… does he look impressed? “Wasn’t bad.”

You’re stunned into silence as you wait for the follow up—some sarcastic dig to make you feel all embarrassed—but it never comes. You can’t help the quiet flutter in your chest as a tired smile threatens to spill across your lips, finally proud of yourself. You actually did it... you really did it.

Chris stretches out, exhaling through his nose as he reaches for the ground to grab his discarded boxers, “Guess all that practice wasn’t of waste of time, kid… good job.”

Your stomach flips with something closed to exhilaration at the praise. You can’t remember the last time he said anything even close to ‘good job’ to you—you truly don’t think he ever has. 

“You can do that shit more often f’me now.”

The flutter in your stomach crashes hard, deflating all at once as your shoulders slump in defeat. Well that’s… not an exhilarated feeling.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

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