#ask t-mack

[cooltmoney95]

Omg while I was reading that Twitter post bashing Kataang you just shared where the poster called Aang a bald lesbian I had to stop for a second and go "ohh so that's why I always liked Kataang so much" and started imagining an AU where everything is the same except Aang is a girl and how peak sapphic Kataang would be. ANYHOW then I finally read your addition where you said Kataang shippers are on their way to make cute wlw AUs and realized I accidentally confirmed your hypothesis like oops I am the Kataang shipper in question xD

And this my dear followers is a textbook example of what inspired the great Yuri Kataang boom of 2024. XD

[movietonight]

My favourite bits from "why are you asking me this" by The Fence

[seaslimes]

It is very important to know people who use different parts of the internet. My fiance uses 4chan & I browse Tumblr. This way, we maxmize the radiation from all directions to form a microwave. Only the funny shit survives the nuke, bigotry burned away like so much steam.

[eternalconsxlationprize]

Colton: Fun fact, the true luxury of Hermes is not in the bags, but in things like horse saddles. Colton: Personally I prefer Devoucoux, Antares or a good N2 [2 minutes later] Colton: Sorry, that was literally my father talking. @mackmontgomery

Mack: Why do the horses sound better dressed than me Mack: Being rich seems like a trip @eternalconsxlationprize

[thevalicemultiverse]

What if you got a job in the past and used the money for coin collecting?

Doc: [grimacing] That carries even more risk of altering the space-time continuum, because you'd be naturally displacing the person who normally be working there, who would then go and do something else, and--

Marty: You really think that one person getting a job in the past might screw over the whole universe, Doc?

Doc: The risk may be small, but it is still present. The problem with time travel is, you never know what small change might end up having huge effects later on! And I personally don't want to take the risk of, I don't know, half of England being leveled as a bizarre side effect of one person from the future getting a job in the past to look for rare coins.

[fluffypotatey]

The distorted memories probably help macaque believe wukong never cared,or at least cared like a kid cares about a toy he could easily replace. And macaque needs to believe that, cause if wukong did actually care then it would be something in macaque himself that made him lose wukong's love.

why must you hurt me so 🥲

[sweetdispatch]

Pillow fort

masterlist pairing: Will Smith x fem!reader summary: You cooked a dinner for you and Will but he showed up with Macklin warning: misunderstanding

It was a tradition between you and Will. After every game, he was showing up at your place to have a late night dinner with you. You were always cooking a homemade dish for you two when he was talking to you about the game. It’s either a happy dinner with lots of laughter or a sad dinner when you were trying to cheer him up. 

Today was no different. San Jose won a game and you cooked his favorite meal. You cleared a coffee table to have space for the plates and drinks because you were always watching in front of tv. Will let you know that he left the arena and you went to the kitchen to heat up the food. 

You put the plates and drinks in the living room and waited for his arrival. When you heard the ring bell you ran to the door to open them and to your surprise, you saw Will standing there with Macklin. You smiled but deep down you were sad and disappointed. 

“Hi baby, it’s not a problem that Mack came with me?” Will said and kissed your cheek. 

“No, come on in” You told him trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “The food is on the table” 

“Oh shoot, I forgot about our dinner. Sorry Mack but…” Before Will could say more, you interrupted him. 

“Don’t worry, you two can eat it. Both of you played a great game, you deserve it” You told him but you felt your heart ache. 

“Thank you Y/N” Macklin replied and sat down to eat. 

“Are you sure?” Will asked you but you only nodded. He kissed your cheek and followed Macklin. 

While they were eating dinner, you were sitting on the couch next to them. There was no talk about the game like always. Three of you were just watching a movie but you could feel the tears growing in your eyes. You knew it was silly to be mad about but it was a tradition between you and Will and now it was ruined. 

You wanted to say that Macklin can’t come, that he can’t eat the dinner but you couldn’t. It wasn’t like you. You were always welcoming for Will’ friends. You didn’t want to be a rude person that everyone hates. You were deep in your thoughts until Macklin’ voice brought you back to reality. 

“It was so good, thank you so much. You’re the best” You smiled at him and stood up to grab his plate. You noticed that Will finished too and cleaned his too. 

“I love you baby, thank you” Will said but you didn’t say anything. 

You went to the kitchen to clean the dishes. You needed to take your mind somewhere else. You didn’t want to cry over something so silly. But it hurt you, it hurt you that Will abandoned your tradition just to hang out with you and his friend. Friend, who he was seeing every single day. Friend, with whom he was spending more time than with you. 

You felt jealousy over Macklin. It was dumb but you knew that he was a huge part of Will’s life. You wanted to be that much important to him like Mack. Your head was spiralling and you didn’t even notice that the water was still running when every plate was already clean. You heard the door being shut and closed the water. 

Quickly, you wiped your hands into a towel and went to the bathroom. You knew that Will was staying the night but you didn’t want to face him in that state. You weren’t a person that likes confrontation. You preferred to act like everything is fine. You closed the door and took a really long shower. Under the water you started crying. It was too much for you. 

Will could hear your sobs from the bathroom and was wondering what happened to you. When he arrived after the game you looked happy and he was wondering what happened in the next hour when he was there to make you cry. He was thinking that maybe something happened earlier. Nevertheless, he wanted to make your night better. 

Will went to the living room and created a pillow fort for you. In the kitchen, he found your favorite sweets and threw them there. On TV, he played your favorite Disney movie. He went to make a cup of tea for you when he heard the bathroom door being opened. 

“What’s this all about?” You asked him while drying your hair. 

“I don’t know what happened today but I heard you crying in the shower and I wanted to make you feel better so I made the fort to cuddle” Will said and you smiled at him. 

You were watching the movie in the fort but you felt bad that Will made this all thing unaware that he’s the reason you cried. You knew you needed to tell him. You grabbed the remote control and paused the movie. 

“The reason why I was crying is because you forgot about our tradition” You told him. 

“What?” Will looked at you confused. 

“It’s just… I cooked dinner for the two of us and I didn’t even know that you'd come with Mack. If I knew, I would make more food so I could eat too” You sighed. 

“Baby, I’m sorry for this. I completely forgot about the dinner and wanted to hang out with you two” Will felt bad at this moment when you told him. 

“I know but I thought it’s our tradition. I’m not mad that you brought him, I’m just mad that I didn’t know earlier about this” You gave him a small smile. 

“Did you eat anything? I know that you didn’t eat dinner but have you eaten earlier?” Will asked you worried that you might have skipped a meal because of him. 

“I ate a salad” You told him. 

“Are you hungry?” Will was ready to go and cook for you. 

“No, I’m alright. All I need is you and the snacks” You kissed his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for this. I promise to tell you next time if I’ll plan to bring Mack with me” Will kissed the top of your head and pulled you closer to him. 

When the movie was finished, Will grabbed your hand and took you to the bedroom. You two laid in bed and he was whispering apologies into your ear. He felt bad for this situation and knew that you have full right to be mad at him. But he was thankful that you're an understanding person and explained this to him instead of keeping this as a secret. He felt your breath becoming steady, he kissed your forehead and fell asleep too. 

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Glass City

Part Four of A Gilded Cage ~2k Words

You can't remember the last time you cried like this. The plush leather muffles your sobs, but it does nothing to loosen the tightness in your throat, to offer any relief from the reality of your situation.

You had been blind, entranced by the fact that Jason Todd was alive and filling your days with distractions that you had missed one simple truth. Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and you know nothing about what that's turned him into.

The cuff around your ankle weighs heavy, a cold, unyielding reminder to the fact that you're trapped. You've been trapped since he snatched you to that forsaken penthouse. It draws more tears from your eyes until you have none left to cry, leaving you a shaky, gasping mess of heartbreak and terror.

It's that very fear, the urge to get away, that drives you to mechanically push yourself up. Sobbing has left you feeling drained.

Your head hurts, every breath is a battle, and you have half a mind to blow your nose on the stupid throw pillow lying haphazardly on the couch. It's with shaky hands that you examine the golden chain securing you to the leg of the couch.

Despite its shiny, lavish appearance, it's well made. No amount of tugging seems to bend the metal, and the cuff latched around your ankle seems equally as sturdy. It's frustrating, and your fear starts to morph into anger with every pull of the chain.

It's humiliating. You doubt you could escape his base even if you had the opportunity to try, and the chain? It just feels like a twisted claim over you.

You rub hands down your face and towards your throat, exhaustion and fury warring in your mind as you try to calm yourself. The motion causes your nails to catch on the diamond choker. The collar.

Another way he tried to keep you. Disgust wells in your throat. How did it get this far? Where did you start to lose yourself? Start to lose him?

It's thoughtless, when you curl your fingers around the piece of jewelry and rip it from your throat, throwing it across the room and as far away from you as possible. You hope it's broken. Hope something in this room is more shattered than you.

You don't react to the knock on the door, but you do lift your head when it opens. There's a hiss, and you watch Bean dig his claws into Mack's arm before jumping to the ground and rushing to you.

Bean purrs as soon as he starts to nuzzle your ankles, and you almost want to cry all over again when you pick him up to clutch him to your chest.

"The boss wanted to make sure you got him," Mack grumbles, seemingly more interested in the diamonds scattered on the floor than the redness in your eyes.

"Where is he," You bite out, or try to bite out. Crying has made your voice raw and scratchy, but even if it hadn't, you doubt it would have threatened Mack anyway.

"Busy," he answers bluntly, "Need anything else?"

You stare him down sharply, Mack might not be your friend, but he has been guarding you for as long as you've been under Jason's thumb. If anything, he should at least show you some sympathy.

"The key for this," You huff out, lifting your leg to show off the chain, "And a phone." Bean meows, and you take it as agreement as you try to hide your jittery nerves. Mack finally meets your gaze, jaw clenching and unclenching as he studies your defiant gaze.

"I don't have the key," he says eventually, "and giving you a phone is asking for trouble."

You lift your chin, exuding confidence over the militia man you don't necessarily feel, "Aren't you supposed to give me what I want?"

Mack exhales softly, slowly, and you have a feeling being assigned to babysit you is not how he imagined taking over Gotham would be. He shoves his hand into his pocket, and tugs out what's clearly a cheap burner phone. He tosses it to you, doesn't even blink when you barely manage to catch it with one hand.

"Two minutes," he warns you as he steps out the door and nods towards the chain, "Just long enough for me to find something to pick that lock with, understand?"

You breathe out a thank you when he's already out the door. Huh. Maybe Mack does like you more than you thought. You file that away for later, putting Bean down in your lap as you carefully type out a number you've had memorized since the day Jason disappeared.

Nine digits. Your last lifeline. The clock tower. Babs.

The phone rings. And rings. You've nearly given up hope, your breathing getting shallower, more panicked, when the line finally connects.

"Oracle– don't hang up– please–" You start. You don't know what to say, you don't even know where you are, but she'll know what to do. She has to.

But it's not Oracle's familiar voice that comes over the phone. No. It's the sound of your name that cuts you off, said through the low, robotic modulator that lives in your dreams.

It makes your blood go cold. It's impossible. You dialed the right number– "How–" You choke out, defeat settling on your shoulders.

The Arkham Knight laughs, an easy, bored sound, "Oracle and I are having a reunion, sweet thing. I would have brought you if I thought you'd play nice."

"I wanna talk to her," you stumble out, eyes darting to Bean as he cuddles into your stomach, seemingly picking up on your anxiety.

"She's busy," he tells you lazily, and you hear the sound of something falling over in the background of the call, "Anything else?"

"I want to go outside–" You try instead, pulling whatever you can think of to hold his attention, to try and give Babs a chance. (If she's even still alive)

He hums like he has all the time in the world to draw the call out, "Mhm, now's a bad time to be out, doll. But you can walk around the base. Sound fair?"

"The chain," You force yourself to choke out instead, "I want it off. I can't– walk if it's on." Bean meows and licks your fingers, it almost steadies the beat of your heart.

He falls quiet for a moment, and the modulator sounds in your ear like he's letting out a sigh. "I shouldn't have– I wasn't trying to scare you earlier. You just needed to be safe."

Another crash sounds in the back of the call. "Someone will take it off," he says your name again, voice no longer the shadow of a laugh, "I need to go. Don't call this number again."

The line goes silent, and you realize you've accomplished nothing at all. Jason's either killed or kidnapped Barabra, and you're no closer to escaping than before.

It's almost terrifying. Jason– The Arkham Knight– is capable of winning whatever war he's waging. He is winning the battles he's picked. And you don't know where that'll leave Gotham, where it'll leave you.

You're still staring blankly at the phone when Mack returns. Neither of you says anything as he crouches at your side and works on the cuff around your ankle. It doesn't take long, but when the golden metal hits the ground, you don't feel any lighter. Jason can win, has planned to win, and everyone will suffer for it.

Mack straightens himself out, and carefully takes the phone from your hand, "C'mon. I'll give you the tour."

"Why," You ask quietly, and lift Bean to cuddle him close to your chest, "Why are you bothering?"

Mack shrugs like it's obvious, "It's part of the job." He doesn't elaborate, and you don't ask for the truth, as you push yourself to your feet to follow him out the door.

Mack leads you down a hall, and when it opens up to what seems to be a hanger, you're left in awe. Now that you're not lost in your own panic, you can see just how impressive the base is. Rows of drones, trucks and tanks, groups of soldiers, and helicopters take up the massive space.

It makes it clear how much of an operation this is, how much Jason has prepared for this night. It nearly takes your breath away. How can anyone go up against him? How could the city survive this? How could you even dream of getting away?

A couple of the men look your way, but they're quick to avert their gaze when Mack levels them with a look. Bean seems just as enthralled with the scenery, and he crawls his way up your arm to sit on your shoulder.

You settle on the sight of crates and crates of weapons, "Can I get a closer look?"

"At the guns," Mack asks, tilting his head at you. He gives you a look like he's picking apart your entire plan when you nod. (Which you find funny, because you don't exactly have a plan yet.)

"There's a range we can use," he relents, leading you away from the hanger and deeper into the base. You're not sure if he's doing this because he feels bad for you, or if you really can get away with whatever you want. But it's hardly the time to complain about his easy compliance.

The range he takes you to is nice. At least you think it is, it's not exactly your area of expertise. There's a skylight, some targets, and more weapons than you've ever seen in one place. You feel like maybe grenades shouldn't be among the choices, but Mack doesn't say anything as you look over each option.

Bean nuzzles your ear as you trace your fingers over what looks like a rocket launcher. You're scrambling a little. This could be your only chance to get away, and you don't have a clue what to do.

Grab a gun and threaten your way out with a kitten on your shoulder? Shoot out a window and hope for the best when you try to run? Try and knock out Mack and pray no one notices you when you try to sneak out?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice the shadow that falls over the skylight. But you do notice when glass shatters down a few feet from where you're standing. And you definitely notice Nightwing dropping down to hit Mack in the back of the head.

Nightwing smiles at you, a pleased, proud sort of thing, and you stumble towards him like he's your last lifeline.

"Orcale is–" You begin, needing to share what The Arkham Knight has done, even if you aren't sure what's happened.

Nightwings smile falls, and he nods, outstretching his hand to you, "I know. Let's get you out of here."

"You know," you ask, voice going weak as you tuck Bean against your chest. It makes sense that he does, but your nerves feel like they're on fire, and you half expect Jason to appear from nowhere to drag you back to that chain.

Nightwing nods, voice soothing, "I know," he tells you, carefully pulling you to his side to shoot a grappling hook through the broken skylight.

Your feet hit the rooftop, but even still, it feels like you're flying. The air is cold, and Gotham is silent and screaming all at once. But you're free.

There's no Jason charging at you, no glittering collar around your neck. Just you, Bean, and the vigilante leading you towards safety.

"Where are we going," You breathe out, disbelief clear in your voice.

"There's– somewhere safe," he murmurs, guiding you through the shadows, "Robin's going to look after you."

"Oh," You mumble, following him step for step until he's helping you onto a motorcycle.

Helicopter blades sound in the air, as you hook your arms around Nightwings back. There's gunshots somewhere in the distance and muffled shouts lost to the wind.

You don't look back, you don't dare to, but it doesn't stop the chills that run down your spine as the bikes engine rev. It doesn't stop the feeling that if you did look back, you'd see The Arkham Knight and his heavy gaze digging into your soul.

[t1red-twilight]

tonguing down peter parker

summary: ushy gushy mushy loser makeout

content/warnings: gn!reader, mdni, andrew!peter, fluff, suggestive content, excessive macking (very excessive)

notes: um uh um NEXT QUESTION

word count: 1k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

peter’s favorite thing at the moment was making out.

so much so that he would come home from fighting crime and whatnot to just swap saliva with you.

he had no idea why this was the only thing that could seem to motivate him, he just couldn’t seem to get enough of you.

currently, he was at your apartment and you were both watching some sitcom rerun from the nineties.

but alas, not much of the show was actually being watched and absorbed.

you weren’t touching besides your lips, and my god, was he good at kissing. he was licking into your mouth with such an intense fervor that you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him ever so slightly. one of your hands was on your leg, which was bent, while the other was making small movements over to peter’s hand.

the small smacking sounds from your lips seemed to be deafening over the sound of the television. every now and then, you could hear him exhale rather strongly whilst you felt it on your face.

he reached over and grabbed your knee, attempting to urge your leg to straddle his waist.

evidently needing to get closer to you, he pulled away after pressing one short kiss into your mouth before asking, “please?” he then leaned back in to continue his ministrations.

his voice was both shrill and hoarse. his kisses then migrated from your lips to your jawline, and he was quickly making his way down to your neck. the breaths that you made caught his attention and he let out a chuckle as you left open-mouthed marks against your warmed skin.

“what?” you replied breathlessly. “do you want me to-” you trailed off, much too embarrassed to finish your question.

“oh god, yes please,” his easy pulling on your leg pursued. when you pulled away, a thin string of spit connected your mouths.

you decided that you too, had not had enough and you put your pressure onto your other knee to hoist yourself up before slowly placing your legs on either side of his torso. the breathless chuckle he breathed out against your neck did not go unnoticed. you did not, however, settle your weight onto him just yet.

he slid his hands underneath the oversized shirt that you were wearing and tried to pull you downwards. because you were so much higher up than him, he had to pull away from the column of your throat.

he continued to try and get you to relax against him. you had become too distracted by the blown out look in his eyes, the ruffled nature of his hair.

he settled for situating his head underneath your t-shirt and mouthing more kisses against you stomach. small traces of saliva were left in his wake.

he was always careful enough to only suck marks that would be covered by your shirt (ever such the gentleman).

he hummed into your skin, laid down another kiss, and whispered another plea.

“c’mon.”

it was soft, gentle, but nonetheless convinced you.

you settled down onto his lap, and he pulled out from underneath your t-shirt. he began leaving languid kisses along your neck again. the feeling of his hands splayed across your back would’ve been overwhelming in another scenario, but they felt just perfect for the time being.

peter was encompassing you entirely, and you had no problem with the line blurring between you two. there was no telling where he began and you ended, and vice versa.

you huffed out a jagged sigh. this had motivated peter to make his way back to your lips, and this he did.

he left tentative kisses wherever he went. he was always like this, subdued and sensitive. though, he was by no means shy.

when you were alone, something unleashed from him. something that never seemed to never stopped craving you. his thirst for you never satiated.

he moved his hands from your back to your waist, and pulled you closer. you abided and scooted as close as was humanly possible to him.

your hands were on either side of his face, your thumbs on the part of his cheek closest to his ear. you could almost hear his heartbeat; you were sure that he could hear yours (he had told you the benefits of his spider senses once, but you had been, um, preoccupied).

he pulled away and smiled at you, turning to leave a kiss on your palm before leaning back in.

“you taste good,” he said after saying your name.

you responded after kissing him one short time, “yeah?”

he didn’t respond vocally this time, opting to only answer with “mhm,” which you could feel the vibrations of.

the lewd wet noises emitting from your mouths should have been embarrassing, neither of you paid any mind.

every so often you would exhale out of your nose, which you’re sure he could feel against his cheek. “quit holding your breath,” he would sometimes say.

your knees were digging into the couch, so you adjusted yourself to avoid any further pain. this resulted in something that was a mix of a groan and a whine from peter.

his lips were very soft, and the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth felt foreign, but commonplace. he was always so gentle, and this was demonstrated by the way that he was licking in short motions in your mouth.

this time, you were the one to part from him. you began leaving kisses from his cheek to a spot behind his ear. your efforts demonstrated to be successful, as the noises leaving peter’s mouth were nothing short of blissful.

eventually, he pulled your face away from his neck and guided it back to his own.

his hands had migrated to your back again, and yours to his. you thought that you might have felt him scratching into your skin, but you weren’t too sure. you’d be able to tell later in the mirror.

in the background, the tv had begun to play a commercial for some erectile dysfuntion drug. the irony of this was not lost on either of you. you disconnected and laughed hoarsely.

later you realized that you had hickeys that expanded across your belly.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Wishing Fountain: John Carter x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @anna-bailey @ofsoapsuds @queenslandlover-93 @gemofspace

Summary: John reflects on his life before you.

Companion piece to:

Dreamer (NSFW) - John dreams of you when he's with someone else.

Little John - You try to keep John's mind off the task at hand.

The First One Is Always The Hardest - You comfort John after the death of a patient.

Forget-Me-Nots - John wakes up hung over in a strange bed and with an unexpected memento of the night before.

Speak Your Truth - John speaks his truth in the aftermath of a tragedy.

Trauma - John makes a realisation after his confession.

Fever - John gets more than he bargained for when he attends a friend's stag party in a Chicago Speakeasy.

Minx (NSFW) - John had no idea he had such a deviant little minx on his hands.

Always - You and John discuss the reasons behind your dancing.

Diamonds - John's friend and rival makes you an offer you can't refuse.

The Stethoscope - John's world is turned upside down when he finds your stethoscope in his locker.

Elderberry Wine - You come home to find John waiting for you.

Sex, Lies and Cocaine Dreams - John takes his revenge on the man that shattered your dreams.

By The Grace of God - An unexpected ally goes to bat for you during your beard hearing.

Choices - You and John discuss your options moving forward.

The Sexual Revolution (NSFW) - You decide to give John a private show before the event.

A Love Story - Your performance sparks an unexpected conversation with Gamma.

The Problem With Winning The War - The problem with winning the war is that you don't expect the second attack.

Mack The Knife - You come face to face with a nightmare in John's apartment.

The Merry Go Round - Reality starts to crash down on you in the wake of your recent trauma.

Rounds - John's his first thoughts are of you upon waking up from surgery.

Love & Duty - John's recovery at Gamma's leads to friction in your relationship due to a laundry disagreement.

The women before you were asinine.

Silly, vapid things that only cared about one of two things. John’s money or his privilege and that was ok because that’s the way the game was played in his world. People want you because you can give them something, and John, he was used to that, in fact he was bred for it.

Blood, bone marrow, whatever his brother needed to fight his leukaemia, John gave because he was expected to, because it was his purpose. The problem is once Bobby died, he stopped being useful and his mom and dad they stopped caring, so John he stopped caring too.

About himself, about his own sense of agency.

It’s the reason he went to business school, the reason he never challenged the discussions about him taking over The Carter Foundation.

At least he didn’t until the met the girl at the wishing fountain in Grant Park, the one wearing a white Blondie t-shirt over a denim skirt. He isn’t sure what draws him to her, there’s just this connection when their eyes meet, a spark he hasn’t felt in the twenty two years he’s been on this earth. He watches her toss a handful of quarters into the depths before he roots around in his pockets for his change.

“What are you wishing for?” He asks her offering one of his own coins. She takes it from his palm before gripping it tightly in her fist and clasping it to her heart, as if she’s trying to force all the luck in the world into it.

“A scholarship.” She tells him before throwing the coin in along with the rest. “It’s a longshot but you gotta have hope you know?”

No he doesn’t, his hope died along with his brother.

Her gaze lowers to the quarters in his gloved hand as they glint in the fading orange of the sunset. “Why aren’t you making a wish?”

“I don’t have anything to wish for.” He tells her and her pencil thin, dark eyebrows furrow into a frown.

The truth is the things that John wants never align with the things his family want. He’d had this notion as a kid that he’d become a doctor, heal Bobby. It had still been there after he’d passed but father had reminded him that he was the heir now, that it was time to stand up and do his duty.

“That’s incredibly sad.”  The girl tells him, staring at the coins glittering under the surface of the water. “It sounds like you’ve forgotten how to dream.”

“I had a dream, it just didn’t suit my family needs…” John finds himself telling her. This conversation right here, it’s the most real one he’s had in a long time. People don’t usually talk to him like this. They’re not open, or honest, they’re just surface level discussing things like finance or politics.

“Do you always do what your family wants you to do?”  She asks him as she sits down on the marble wall of the fountain, patting the space beside her. “You don’t ever think about rebelling?”

“Sometimes.” John admits as he sits beside her, his shoulder gently nudging against hers. “Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning under the weight of the whole thing, that there’s all these decisions being made for me and I don’t get a say.”

“Then maybe you need to make your own decisions.” She counters, crossing one leg over the other as she takes a pack of nicotine gum out of her pocket and pops one into her mouth. “Become culpable for yourself.”

“It’s not that simple.” He says helplessly, looking down at his hands.

“It never is.” She responds, jerking her thumb at the water feature over her shoulder. “Do you think I’d be standing here throwing coins into a fountain if it was?”

He laughs at that and the girl laughs too. That sound, it unlocks something inside of him, it shatters the walls of the prison he’s been keeping himself holed up in for all these years.

It’s that night that he returns to the estate and tells Gamma he wants to attend Med School. It’s the first time he makes a choice about his own future, and he can’t express how freeing it feels.

It’s a few months later he runs into that girl again. She’s sitting in the front row for his first lecture at Northwestern, still wearing that Blondie t-shirt, still making his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“I see you got that scholarship.” He says as he takes the empty seat alongside her.

“And I see you started to dream again.” She teases him, making space on the desk to unpack his things.

John thinks about all of this as he stands outside your door tonight, listening to the sounds of Kula Shaker emitting from the other side. What his life would be like if he hadn’t run into you at the wishing fountain. He’d be numb, sad, alone, drowning a career that he had never wanted in the first place, the same way that his cousin Chase is.

He raises his fist, knocking on the cheap wood and the noise echoes down the empty hallway as he hears the locks being drawn back. The door opens a crack before you peer through the gap taking him in with his walking stick and long woollen coat.

“I was an asshole.” He says simply. “I became complacent again, let myself fall into old patterns. I know that you were there out of love, and I’m sorry that I acted as if it didn’t matter, that you didn’t matter.”

The door opens up wider and you stand before him, wearing that same t-shirt from the day you met and nothing more than a pair of his socks. “You mean the world to me Crys. The estate, the wealth, the stupid Faberge eggs, I would give every single one of them up if it made you happy.”

“You don’t need to give anything up for me.” You tell him as you lean in close, your curves brushing against his firm chest as your fingers lace at the nape of his neck. The scent of honey and orange blossoms floods his senses, the shampoo you get from the dollar store down the street. He’s missed that smell, he’s missed the way you fit so perfectly against him, the feel of your heart thundering against his. “You just need to stop Magda washing my panties and folding them up into weird tiny squares.”

 A ghost of a smile crosses your lips and he can tell all is forgiven as he wraps his free arm around you, gathering you even closer. His cheek comes to rest against yours, his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers. “Maybe we don’t stay at the estate for a while. Maybe we stay right here at home instead.”

Love John? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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[cooltmoney95]

for Alonso Plutonium  How does he display affection?

Pretty much takes cues from his uncle and father. Alonso has that natural charm that the Burromuerto men are known for (Although his is actually genuine.). So he likes to make his loved ones feel like the most important people in his life (And they are.). And he'll do everything in his power to make sure they remember that (Ex: Gifts, Compliments, Physical Affection, etc.).

[tojisth3rdwife]

Part 2

a/n: this one is probably 40% smut parts here. Pregnant sex is the bees knees, speaking from experience. A 💋 will mark where it starts and ends in case you want to skip it. There will definitely be a part 3 lol

BabyDaddyToji was enjoying your pregnancy more than you were.

For starters, and not to be crude but the sex was unmatched. Toji had a thing for cumming inside of you raw before but now?? With the only motivation not to no longer being relevent, there wasnt a day where Toji didnt want to be inside of you.

Granted, he wasnt jumping your bones 24/7. Especially in the beginning. He let you set the tone for that based on your mood. And it was rough in that first trimester. It seemed like as soon as you confirmed the pregnancy , every symptom in the book hit your ass like a mack truck.

You slept majority of the day.

You spent many mornings, afternoons and evenings face down in the toilet.

Your mood was unpredictable, although you did your best not to crash out and frighten Megumi or take it out on Toji.

Even when you did, Toji didnt take it personally.

You’d been snippy with him all night over the smallest things.

He closed the door too loudly when he came in the bedroom, not helping your hormonal headache whatsoever. When he asked you how you were feeling, it was returned with an attitudinal “How the fuck do you think I feel? I cant eat. Im always tired. My back hurts. My head hurts. The dog’s wont stop barking..” you trailed off. Toji approaches where you were now sitting up at the edge of the bed, bent over with your face in your hands.

You were a mess. Your hair. Your skin. You just felt gross and overly emotional, something that was so unlike you. Toji knew it, but unlike you, he at least understood why.

The tears were already flowing by the time he joined you on the bed, reaching for your hands to pull away from your face.

“N-no Toji....” you sniffled, attempting to hide yourself from Toji as he gripped your wrists gently. He smiled as you fought against his strength pointlessly , and he pulls you into him for a hug he knew you needed.

Mind you, Toji was far from perfect. There were plenty of times when he didn’t know how to comfort you or the right thing to say at the right time. But being with you over the years improved his sense of compassion and empathy towards others, meaning you were no exception.

Toji rubbed your lower back, pulling your body as close as he could.

“Im sorry, baby. Seems like today is kicking your ass..” he says with his lips in your messy hair. You chuckle dryly at the sentiment, sniffing back the snot threatening to dribble from your nose.

“Yeah.” You sigh. Toji hums against your crown, slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband of your leggings. Not in a suggestive or sexual manner, just to hold you better. He sat with you for a few seconds in silence before asking you if you wanted him to get out so you could rest.

“No…” you mutter, clutching his t-shirt. You gave in to his embrace and nuzzled his chest, your breath stuttering from the sudden rush of emotions. Toji smirks.

You were so cute when your were stubborn.

In other news…

Your body was gradually changing. Too much in appearance , although your tits were gigantic now, but more in how you felt and responded to your environment.

For starters, nothing tasted or smelled the same, in good and bad ways alike.

The smell of cooking/ grilled meats? ❌

The scent of certain cleaning products and laundry detergents?✅

Megumi’s dogs? (Although you still loved them to pieces) ❌

The sweet and savory combo of pizza and strawberry toaster strudels stacked on top of eachother with the frosting and marinara sauce melding together? ✅

The smell of Toji’s favorite instant ramen? ❌

Eggs? ❌

Yogurt? ❌

Chocolate? ❌

The scent of anything Toji related? His cologne? His after shave? His sweaty shirts straight from the gym? ✅✅✅

But despite all of that, especially once the sickness and exhaustion began to taper out as you entered the 2nd trimester, you were horny.

Like VERY horny, tracking back to the opening statement..

And fuck, Toji loved it.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

He’d barely made it inside after returning from dropping Megumi off at school before your hands were at his belt.

“Whoa..” Toji’s brows shot up as well as his hands when you made quick work of undoing his pants and pulling his dick out. He wasnt even hard yet and he still felt heavy in your hand as you stroked him slowly.

Lips at his neck and your other hand pushing his shirt up, you mumbled against his skin.

“I want you so bad it hurts..”

And it did. The spike in hormones, coupled with the increased blood flow down there made everything feel 10 times more intense. All Toji had to do was kiss you and you felt your inner thighs become slippery against each other from his wet you were. After a simple ‘brb’ smooch on his way out the door to take Megs, your clit was engorged and your gummy walls clenched in need of him.

You tried rubbing one out but you were too frustrated to get yourself there.

You needed release.

You needed him in the worst way.

Toji groaned as your expert touch had his dick jumping and swelling to life with every stroke of your hand.

“Hurts?” He frowns at your choice of words. You paused trying to undress him to take Toji’s hand and guide under your large sleep shirt to cup your sex. You had soaked through the fabric of your panties and just Toji’s touch had your walls pulsing.

“Fuck..” he exhaled,taking the initiative to rub your puffy clothed lips as if to sooth you. But all it did was rile you up even more.

“See?” You whimper and Toji cusses under his breath again.

“Shit, babe…How are you always this fucking wet? Hmm?” He tilts his head, now the one taking the reigns.

“Toji..” your breath hitched, breaking and stalling as the rough pads of his fingers rubbed yiur clothed pussy. His fingers found tiny hill of your clit pressing through your panties and he circles it slowly. You gripped his flexing forearm desperately, breathy moans leaving you as your back collides with the wall adjacent to the front door, with Toji’s height eclipsing you in his shadow. He speeds up his antics, all while pressing his lips to your pulse in a gentle kiss.

By the way you keened in his ear, Toji was sure of one thing.

“Gonna cum right here? Right now?” He asks, strumming his middle and index over your civered clit faster. You nod with you mouth agape, digging your nails into Toji’s arm.

“Yesyesyesyesyesbabyplease..fuck..”

Your knees buckled as the wave of pleasure washed over you, a gush of slick staining the your underwear. Anyone walking by outside definitely heard your cry of ecstasy, but Toji never gave a damn about his neighbors.

“Shit..c’mere” he pulls you towards him by the throat for a sloppy breathless kiss, licking into your mouth and catching every moan off your tongue as he rubs your sensitive folds over your drenched panties.

Without warning, Toji picks you up like you weigh nothing to carry you in the room, tossing you on the bed to fuck the ache out of your pussy until it was damn near time for Megumi to get out of school.

But as you began to show around week 14-15, Toji was more mindful of how he handled your body. You assured him that you could take it and encouraged him to go harder, but it was pointless. He was just too damn big and you seemed way too fragile to be bent in half and pounded the way he used to.

The tenderness was welcomed in exchange though..

As much as you loved your belly, you hated how it blocked your view of Toji eating you out. Watching his tongue glide over your puffy lips and clit made you even wetter and Toji lapped it straight from the source. He groaned at the taste of you. Not that he didnt love your pussy’s flavor before you were pregnant but there was something more intense about it now. Even your scent was more potent and addicting, having him thinking about burrying his face between your legs all damn day.

Toji ate your pussy like his life depended on it, swirling his tongue over the hood of your clit and flicking its underside in the way he knew would make you shake.

“Mmmhmm” he moaned against you, hugging your thighs and caressing your baby bump affectionately.

You’d attempted to crane your neck to get a glimpse of what he was doing in the beginning but now you just surrendered to the fact that you wouldnt be seeing anything down there without a mirror for a while.

That was ok though.

Allowing yourself to focus only on what Toji’s lips and tongue did to you made cumming on his face most enjoyable for the both of you.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

“Are you ready to know the sex?” your doctor asks from behind the monitor. You glance at her in surprise, even though you knew the question was coming.

Toji hated that he couldnt be there and damn near walked out on a job if you hadnt convinced him to stay and focus.

But you really wished he was here.

“Could you write it down and put it in an envelope for me?” you asked, doing your best to keep your gaze from traveling over to the big mounted screen on the wall, and your doctor obliged.

That way when you took it to the bakery and asked them to pipe the corresponding color frosting in a pre made jumbo cupcake, it would be a surprise both you and Toji could share.

Taglist: @queendessi24 , @xllizs, @whoreforjjkmen , @hellokittyloverrxox .

Part 1 <<<<<

Part 3 (soon)

The Fushiguro’s <<<<<

[taelepathii]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ pillow princess ᰔ₊˚⊹

Note: This is my first time writing/posting on here please kind and also never written smut and i’m a 19 year old virgin so might be inaccurate…

warnings: nsfw, mack being a sub, humping, badily written, also minors dni :))

the room was filled with pants and whines, the bed softly squeaking beneath the couple. “f-fuck” macklin whimpers, his cheeks flushed, ears red and green eyes glistening with tears. he’s shirtless and laying on his back as you are clad in panties that are damp from the incessant movement on mack’s lap and him completely naked. his tip is angry and wet with your guys’ arousal. “does that feel good, baby?” he quickly nods, his hair in disarray from your dragging your hands through it so many times. your mixed cum drips down onto his stomach and between your thighs, making a sticky mess but it allows you to move faster. the sound of your pussy gliding over mack’s sensitive cock is damn near sinful. you rest your hands on his stomach and you feel it tensing under your touch, signaling he’s getting close. his knuckles turn white from clenching the bedsheets so hard, yet they occasionally twitch like they need to touch something else. his moans and whimpers grow louder and needier as your hips move faster, the high pitch making the smirk on your face expand.

your lips form a fake pout as you coo, “you need to come mackie?” your head slightly tilts to the side, watching as his face gets redder and tears form in his eyes. as you increase your speed, his hands find purchase on your hips as fingertips dig into your sides. his mouth is agape in pleasure from your hips rubbing him dumb, causing his head just barely gestures to confirm your question. you dip down lick a broad swipe up his salty neck, dragging your lips to his ear. just barely grazing his earlobe you whisper, “good boys know how to ask for permission.” he makes a choked sound, a whine threatening to escape from the back of throat. your words make his hips jump causing his tip to bump into your puffy clit just right, a sharp moan bolts from your throat. your head leaves the side of neck, moving to stare into his tear-filled eyes. you slowly move one your hands up his stomach towards his necks, fingertips just barely touching his damp and sensitive skin causing goosebumps to appear along his arms. it then finds it’s place wrapped around his ruddy neck, squeezing just the right amount to get his attention. “i know you’re close, all you gotta do is ask.”

you slow down your pace, your hips moving at a tantalizing speed. he whines at the change, “oh fuck—please let me c-cum, i want it-t so bad.” you hum in satisfaction, “good boy mackie.” you place a wet smack on his warm cheek, your hands trail down to his his heaving chest. leaning a little forward, your hips set a brutal pace, your pussy gliding oh so nicely against his soaked and hard cock. the headboard repeatedly bangs against the wall. mack’s hands needily moves to claw at your body, from tits to ass, not knowing where they want to land. almost like he can’t get enough of you and needs to constantly be touching you. not that you mind, of course. you feel his cock start to twitch under you, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. you down slow, feeling your stomach start to get that warm feeling. his body starts to convulse, “you gonna cum already?” he shakes his shakes trying to deny it but you know your boyfriend. the way his body quivers, the way his breath shudders, legs starting to lightly shake…it’s proving otherwise. you smile at his pathetic state, you hips not letting up from their bruising pace, his wet tip consistently nudging your clit provides the right friction for you to almost reach your peak. but you want him to come first so you lean down, piecing of your hair encasing your heads together and bite at his bottom lip, pushing him over the edge. “fu-uck-‘“ he moans, his back arching off the bed, cumming hard and fast. the beautiful sight causes desperate breathes and whomps too escape your lips as you chase your high, “you’re such a good boy, mackie, oh shit-such a good fucking boy.” it feels like a band in you snaps as you gush around him, your mixed releases creating a sticky, warm puddle around your panties. your pace slows down to a light drag, prolonging your orgasm, as mack’s hands encase your face, bring down your lips to his swollen ones.

he looks completely wrecked, his face aglow and bitten lips, your bodies now relaxed. you lift up off his chest and leave the bed, trailing into your shared bathroom to fetch a clean towel and dispose of your soiled panties. after cleaning your self off, you grab a new towel for mack. his chest has calmed down to even breathes, his hands resting on his tummy, dick now soft and laying against his thighs. you lean over his body to wipe off your cum, throwing the fabric in the dirty hamper. you peer up to look at him, his eyes wide yet adorned with a little twinkle, “you okay baby or was it too much?” you lift a hand to run through his sweaty hair. he can barely look at you, his face getting impossibly deeper with something other than desire. “n-no, uh,” he clears his throat, his eyes drifting down to meet yours, his voice small, like he’s embarrassed, “you were perfect. sorry i got a little…lost and carried away.” you click your tongue in response, “never apologize for something like that. i loved it and don’t be embarrassed about it it’s completely normal.” he exhales shakily, and he softly nods. you place a kiss on his lips and you guys finish getting ready to spend the rest of your night cuddled together, exchanging ‘i love you’s”. and maybe if he begs enough, you’ll make him a cup of hot chocolate.

a/n: i know it’s terrible but i honestly just wrote it for fun and i had fun doing it. i won’t be taking requests and ill basically just write when i feel like it. thank you for reading! please do not repost or copy my work without asking for permission :))

[cailinsblog]

Caring for You | macklin Celebrini

Macklin celebrini x reader

So for some reason it won’t let me put any of my new story’s to my masterlist so I’m sorry about that🙏🏻🙏🏻

Y/N sniffled miserably from her spot on the couch, bundled up in a mountain of blankets. A box of tissues sat beside her, along with an untouched cup of tea Macklin had made before he left for practice. She felt like a total mess—her nose was red, her throat was sore, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

It had started with a tickle in her throat a couple of days ago, but she’d brushed it off. Now, it was a full-blown cold, and all she wanted was to sleep it off and hope Macklin wouldn’t fuss too much when he got home.

But, of course, Macklin did fuss.

The sound of the front door opening pulled Y/N from her groggy haze. Macklin stepped inside, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder and his cheeks still pink from the cold outside. His smile immediately turned into a look of concern when he saw her curled up on the couch, looking pale and tired.

“Y/N?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and rushing over to her. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

He crouched down beside her, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up! Why didn’t you call me? You should’ve told me you were feeling this bad!”

“It’s just a cold, Mack,” she said, offering a weak smile. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” he repeated, his brows knitting together. “You’re never a bother, Y/N. I don’t care if I’m on the ice or on the moon—you call me if you need anything, okay?”

Before she could protest, Macklin stood up, determination in his eyes. “Alright, first things first. You’re staying right here. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Mack, you really don’t have to—”

“I do have to,” he insisted, already heading toward the kitchen. “You’re my girlfriend, and I’m not letting you suffer alone.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile despite how awful she felt. Macklin was always so thoughtful, and she knew there was no stopping him when he got into caretaker mode.

He returned a few minutes later with a tray holding a fresh cup of tea, a bowl of soup he’d quickly heated up, and a cold compress. “Here we go,” he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Tea to soothe your throat, soup to help you feel better, and this,”—he gently placed the compress on her forehead—“to bring down your fever.”

Y/N reached for the tea, but Macklin beat her to it, carefully holding the cup to her lips. “Let me,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to spill it on yourself.”

She took a small sip, the warmth soothing her scratchy throat. “You’re too good to me, Mack,” she murmured.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, sitting down beside her and tucking the blankets more snugly around her.

The rest of the afternoon passed with Macklin fussing over her like a mother hen. He kept her hydrated, made sure she took her medicine, and even queued up her favorite rom-coms to distract her. At one point, he disappeared into the bedroom and came back wearing his favorite oversized hoodie—the one she always stole.

“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing weakly.

“Sacrificing my hoodie to the cause,” he said dramatically, pulling it off and helping her into it. “This is scientifically proven to make you feel better.”

“You’re such a dork,” she said, her voice thick with affection.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he replied, kissing her temple.

As the evening wore on, Y/N started to feel a little better, thanks to Macklin’s TLC. He sat beside her on the couch, her head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly stroked her hair.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly, looking up at him.

Macklin shook his head, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Y/N, I’ll always take care of you. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she reached up to cup his cheek. “I love you, Mack.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you more.”

The two of them stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. And while Y/N still had a ways to go before she was fully recovered, she knew she’d never felt more cared for or loved in her life.

[oscquinn]

Can I request the brother's best friend trope with Will Smith for the spring break sleepover where reader is Macklin's older sister? Please and thank you 🩵

ofc!! love this idea and I'd love to write more of it. rated t for swearing. brother's best friend trope, mack being cute and anxious and shy :)) cute healthy sibling relationship!!

EDIT: i realize now that i got the prompt backwards!! feel free to request again :))

macklin's hands are shaking, the poor boy is too nervous. "mack, baby?" you ask softly. "you know this is gonna be perfectly fine."

"what if it's not though? what if he..." your boyfriend trails off and you squeeze his hand. you know the two of you will stand on the smith family doorstep forever if you don't make a move. so you ring your own doorbell, waiting for your mother to open the door.

she appears with a smile, "macklin! i didn't know you were coming today! come in, come in," she ushers the two of you in, calling your name. "why didn't you tell me? the table isn't set for an extra dinner guest!"

"sorry mom," you say with a sheepish smile. your mother hugs you tightly as you continue, "we wanted it to be a surprise."

"mack's here?" your younger brother thunders down the stairs. "i didn't know you were in boston?"

"we're dating!" mack blurts out, followed by silence. after a moment your stifled giggles errupt.

"macklin!" you swat at his arm, "i thought you were so scared to tell will. what happened to that?"

his cheeks flush a bright pink and he steps closer to you shyly. "i-i dunno, i just..." he shrugs, glancing up at will.

your brother breaks out into a grin, "man, you're so fuckin' slow-"

"william!" your mother exclaims.

"-why would i be mad you're with my sister? dude. she's like, my best friend."

you smile, reaching out to pull your brother towards your side. he's taller than you, but you can still reach up to dig your knuckles unto his skull, ruffling his blond curls playfully. "thats like so lame, willy," you tease him.

now it's will's turn to blush, but he shakes it off. "yeah well, at least you have a good brother, that's not lame."

you give him a gentle shove before reaching down to take mack's hand. you bring it up to your lips to kiss his open palm, watching his face get pinker. your brother pretends to gag, earning a glare from your mother, and gigles from you and mack.

[roanofarcc]

MIDSUMMERS FIGHT CLUB

PAIRING: JJ Maybank X fem!reader

SUMMARY: In what may be considered a lapse in judgment, you help JJ out in an unfair fight that breaks out during Midsummers.  

WARNINGS: Doesn’t follow the scene to a T. Canon violence, kook!reader, a curse or two. 

master list | requests are open!

A/n: Every time I plan a short & sweet fic, it ends up being over 1k words. I, apparently, do not know how to be brief.

Midsummers was supposed to be the party of the summer. You attended every year and often looked forward to it, but you were incredibly bored. The bar was guarded by the country club owner to prevent underage kids from getting drunk and puking in the pool, again. That meant the only way to get drinks was by sweet-talking Rafe or Topper, and you’d rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do that. 

You were sober, the weather was too humid, the venue smelled like overpriced perfume, and all of your friends were too busy macking on their dates to spare you a glance. In a desperate attempt to entertain yourself and not get roped into another conversation with your mother, father, and their boring friends, you wandered inside the club in search of some form of entertainment. 

Much to your surprise, you didn’t have to look long. You were only inside for a couple of minutes, debating if you could sneak some champagne from the kitchen, when someone barreled into you, sending you both crashing against the ground. 

An impressive string of curse words came from the person who ran you over. It took you a moment to regain your barrings, but when you did, a somewhat familiar face was standing above you. JJ Maybank, a well-known Pouge for not many great reasons. Yet, he looked frantic and apologetic as he held out his hand. 

“Sorry,” he said in a rushed breath before his head snapped behind him. The sound of footsteps echoed from down the hall. “Shit,” JJ hissed under his breath as he looked past you and down the rest of the hallway corridor as he helped you up.

Topper, Rafe, and the rest of their buddies came into view, faces pinched in anger. JJ’s eyes widened as he dropped your hand and took off as the boys followed. 

You contemplated getting involved, knowing it was none of your business. But you were equal parts bored, curious, and a little concerned as to what those boys were going to do to each other. You had no reason to care about any of them, but from what little you knew about JJ’s reputation along with Rafe and his friends’ temper, you felt that walking away was a little cowardly. The thought of a fight made you nervous, even if it didn’t concern you whatsoever. 

So, you followed them, albeit a bit regrettably, into the boys’ locker room. When you arrived, though it had to have been less than a minute since they had passed you, JJ was in a headlock, Topper’s arm hooked around his throat while JJ struggled. 

Maybe you were a bit sheltered, having never witnessed a fight up close before. You’d been at parties where they’d broken out, but they were either in another room or you and your friends fled before the cops were called. You stood wide-eyed for a moment until they saw you introducing. 

“Beat it, princess,” Rafe spat, his tone mocking in the same way it always was. 

You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing?” you asked. Kooks and Pouges didn’t get along, but by the look on their faces, they were engaged in something larger than mere dislike. 

“None of your business,” Topper replied, squeezing his arm tighter around JJ. The boy was nearly turning blue. You surged forward, not exactly sure what you planned to do. 

Rafe stopped you, blocking your path before he mustered a fake smile. “This is sort of personal business between us and this Pouge, okay? You don’t wanna get involved.” It almost sounded like a threat, but while Rafe was the problem child of the Camerons, you weren’t particularly intimated by him in his polo and khaki shorts. He looked like every other douchey teen at the country club. 

JJ managed to wriggle free from Topper, stumbling backward with ragged breaths. You sidestepped Rafe and managed to get in between JJ and Topper before the latter could lurch forward. “Serious, Topper, what is your problem? Since when do you pick fights?” 

“Since Sarah started hanging out John B.,” one of the other boys answered, looking a little amused at the whole situation, but he shrugged when Topper sent him a glare. Unlike Rafe, Topper was more well-rounded, less likely to fly off the handle from what you'd seen and heard.

“It’s none of your business,” Topper said, his face showing how hard he was trying to quell his anger. “Get out of my way.” 

You pursed your lips as if you were in deep thought. “Or what?”

Topper said nothing; he pressed his lips in a thin line, unsure of what exactly his next move was. Rafe, however, was not as contemplative when it came to his actions, he was rash and grabbed your shoulders roughly before shoving you to the side. You stumbled, nearly toppling over but you caught yourself on one of the benches that lined the middle of the locker room. 

“Whoa, whoa, hey.” JJ’s voice filled the air as he caught his breath. He stepped up to Rafe, his face littered with cuts and bruises. They didn’t look like fresh wounds, but you wondered if they were gained in another fight with Rafe and Topper, which prompted the outburst in the locker room. “Come on, guys. We don’t need to get the lady involved.” 

You wanted to laugh at being called a lady, and maybe if Rafe didn’t look ready to try to choke the life out of JJ, you would have. He caught JJ by the fabric of his white button-down and threw him up against a wall of lockers, pinning him there while Topper got close beside Rafe, in JJ’s face. 

“Those are some nasty cuts on your face,” Rafe said, almost tauntingly. You stood upright, eyes flickered back and forth between the boys on one side of the room doing nothing to help or call off their friends, and the trio up against the lockers. “You’re starting to look more and more like your old man.” 

You were buzzing with adrenaline, pissed off that Rafe had the gull to shove you. In a quick motion, you pulled off your heavy wedged heel before bringing it down against the back of Rafe’s head. It was hard enough to get him off of JJ, but not enough to send him to the floor. Topper backed up as you raised your heel at him in a warning. 

A laugh fell from JJ’s lips looking a little bewildered. “Holy shit,” he said. 

Rafe’s face was red hot with anger. Topper placed a hand on his shoulder in a lame attempt to get him to back off and return to the party before things escalated, but Rafe lurched forward towards you. You had a feeling he held more than just the intention to shove you out of the way. 

You were unbalanced in one shoe but raised your heel in meek defensive against what you thought would be direct assault, but JJ moved in front of you, earning himself another blow from Rafe that nearly knocked both of them to the ground. Rafe raised his fist to punch, you tightened your grip on the shoe to hit him again, and JJ braced himself, but all of it was quickly put to a stop.

A voice bellowed from the entrance of the locker room. “What is going on in here?!” A security guard asked, jaw tight and stern. You recognized him from other country club events. 

Rafe backed off, as did JJ. Everyone tried their best to make themselves look like nothing that would get them kicked out of the party was occurring. 

JJ started talking, some boisterous declaration that he was the one not supposed to be there and needed to be escorted out. It was a smart move. 

The security guard started to lead him out, and you followed close behind, not wanting to be left with Rafe, Topper, and their useless friends. 

JJ turned around with a smug look on his face. “You Powerpuff girls have a great rest of your night!” 

Topper glared harshly. “Tell Kie she looks pretty hot for a Pouge.” 

Despite the security guard’s grip on JJ’s arm, he yanked himself free and looked ready to throw another punch. But he was caught before he could, the security guard grunting under his breath about ‘goddamn kids.’ You set your jaw and threw your wedge as hard as you could at Topper. He ducked and the shoe hit one of his friends. 

The security guard took a deep breath, and instead of the annoyance he seemed to have for JJ, he must have recognized you from your previous visits. He looked more disappointed than anything but said and did nothing. He tugged JJ along and led the way out of the locker room. 

“For a Kook, you fight like a Pouge,” JJ said. You weren’t sure if that was a compliment, but you decided to take it as one. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to throw something at Rafe.” 

He laughed lightly, catching your eye with a shake of his head. His blond hair fell against his forehead, covering up the cut above his brow. There was a light red mark around his neck, but it didn’t seem like Topper held him with enough force to leave too bad of a bruise in the coming days. It still looked like it hurt, though. 

“Remind me to call you next time I get into a fight.” The security guard side-eyed JJ, who offered him a terribly fake innocent smile. “Hypothetically, sir.” The man huffed and continued along the hall. 

“What was their deal anyway? I know they can be assholes but, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them like that.” 

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information,” JJ said with a playful smile. “I can’t discuss it; I’m on a top-secret mission tonight. And my job is done. That’s why this good man’s dragging me out of here.” He patted the security guard on the shoulder, and you were worried for a moment the man was going to break it by the glare in his eyes. 

Midsumers were always so serious, people mingling with fear of being judged by each other while they were judging each other. You usually got some break in the company of friends, but they were occupied. You worried that this year’s party would be painfully boring, but you were proven wrong in a matter of minutes. Despite the threat and act of violence, JJ had an infectious upbeat, mischievous attitude. While it felt a little silly, you itched for more. 

The three of you neared the crowd of people outside and JJ slowed his pace just slightly. “Well, I’m almost done. But I am about to make a scene in front of all of these people,” he said. “If I were you, I’d hang back.” His voice but a whisper, but you were pretty sure the security guard heard him because his grip tightened around JJ’s upper arm. 

“Noted,” you replied. “See you around?” It came out as more of a question. 

“Yeah, you will.” 

With that, JJ stumbled out into the crowd of people, loudly talking and stealing drinks from waiters. Guests looked confused while some looked mortified. Three people from the crowd that JJ must’ve known joined him, practically running out from under the pavilion and into the dark night. The teens were all laughing with each other, an endearing sight that probably very few felt beside you. 

Despite your loneliness the rest of the night, your mind of fully occupied by JJ Maybank.