#I wanted to have it just be a shot of my hands but the idea of setting up mirrors to see my screen from that angle?

[maiiuelle]

omg imagine having a cute little girl's night with bf!rafe (he was forced into it) and putting a face mask on him, doing skincare with him and getting him to paint your nails... he ends up enjoying it much more than he thought he would, despite his grumpy attitude in the beginning

He tries to braid your hair as the both of you are sitting on your bed, your legs crossed as you close your eyes and just take in the feeling of his calloused hands on your hair trying to be as gentle as possible with you, the song 'Oh to be in love' by Kate Bush faintly playing from your bluetooth speaker. He's murmuring sweet little things into your ear while he's doing it too, and when he's done he devours your face with kisses on your nose, temples, chin, lips, neck..

(sorry this was supposed to be a request but I got a bit carried away.. I'M FEELING ROMANTIC, OKAY? TwT)

OMG OMG OMG this is so cute i love it!! 🥺

rafe was grumpy to begin with, having dealt with a very long week full of meetings. your solution to his stress is to have a spa day! it always works for you, and you know if he just gives it a shot, he’ll feel so much better. rafe being rafe thinks the idea is stupid at first, complaining on the way to sephora. “see, i don’t think i’m really understanding here, baby — how’s a goddamn face mask gonna fix my deal that just went under? huh?”

“rafe! would you just give it a try? just trust me, okay?” you bat your lashes at him, a sweet smile dawning your cheeks. you swipe his card to buy all sorts of new sheet masks, moisturizers, sprays and lotions. you were going to make sure tonight was perfect!

he doesn’t admit it at first, but having you sat on his lap smoothing a calming lavender sheet mask over his face is pretty relaxing. you even brought out your jade roller to massage it in, humming softly to yourself as he leans his head back and closes his eyes. you smile now that he’s not looking, biting your lower lip in silent victory. “mm, it is pretty nice, hm?”

“shutup — n’keep going.”

rafe would definitely want to do something to return the favor later that night, insisting he can stay a little later and help you fall asleep. you’re sitting in between his legs under the sheets, back to his chest so he can braid your hair while kate bush plays in the background. for once, he’s really gentle, using his thick fingers to comb through your hair and carefully untangle any knots. “so pretty baby, n’so sweet. what’d i do to deserve a girl like you, huh?” he puts the finished braid over your shoulder, letting his hand linger there to pull you flush against his chest. you just smile up at him, his eyes stuck on your soft lips as he comes down for a kiss. but he doesn’t stop there, heating up the kiss and trailing down your neck and shoulders, then coming back to litter them all over your face.

[echobx]

It's... complicated?- Rafe Cameron × polyam!reader & JJ Maybank × polyam!reader

summary: you're in a relationship with Rafe, but a one night stand with JJ turns into more and suddenly you find yourself entangled in a relationship that you don't plan on getting out of any time soon

general warnings: cheating, angst, fluff, smut, swearing, lying, reader being a bitch, talk of marriage angst warnings: mention of death, downward spiral, self-doubt, fighting (verbally), fighting (physically), traumatized reader smut warnings: p in v (unprotected), oral (f & m receiving), 3 way, cnc, creampie/cumdump, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, (heavy) pda, subdrop adjacent, aftercare, foreplay, toy use (not primarily), overstimulation

word count: 19k

author's note: this started as a Rafe fic but immediately my brain fucked me over and then I was too deep to change it so I kept it and decided to explore the throuple idea. I wanted to not have it be cheating plot but I couldn't figure out how to do that while keeping the set dynamic, so I hope you're gentle with me on that :) I genuinely hope you enjoy it, it's the longest one part one shot I've ever written lol (p.s. I wanted to do dvp here but I couldn't find an appropriate place for it, but if you want it, I can write it separately)

“Can you maybe not do lines on my boobs tonight? Last time you got some on my vintage Chanel dress and I haven't managed to get it out yet,” you ask Rafe while leaning in the door of his room, watching him get ready.  “I'll just buy you a new one,” he shrugs and buttons his shirt up. “That's not the point, babe, and you know it,” you shake your head, swaying your perfect curls. “It's also vintage, and you can't just buy a new one. Besides, I paid for it, not you.”  “You mean your dad paid for it?” he eyes you with a smirk playing on his pink lips.  “Nope, pretty sure that it counts for me now,” you smile, faking it as per usual when the topic of your dad comes up. “Dead people can't pay for shit.”  He steps over to you, tilting your chin up and kissing you. “Let's not talk about him. Instead, we can go and have fun, all right?” 

“Eugh, whose house is this?” you scoff as he stops the car in the driveway. The mansion isn't even half the size of your own, and it makes you feel a little disappointed.  “Hey, be nice,” Rafe smiles and takes your hand up to kiss it before getting out and opening your door for you.  “I am always nice,” you tell him, but he knows it's a lie. Your way of being nice is what other people would call bitchy or bossy. You aren't nice like people want you to be, not since your dad has died. He was the only one who you had tried your best for.  “You know I love to see your claws out, but I have to sell shit tonight, so none of that, please,” Rafe begged, his arm tight around your waist.  You roll your eyes and look up at him, “fine.” 

The party is already going, and a few people greet you while walking in. You find Topper and Kelce rather quickly, taking your seat next to Rafe you let your eyes wander as they talk.  “You know, you guys are boring as fuck,” you groan after having had to listen to them talk about golfing for twenty minutes straight.  “Since when are we here for your entertainment, y/n,” Kelce scoffs, but he gulps as you get up and lean over him.  “Maybe you should suck a dick to fix your fucking attitude,” you snarl and walk away towards the kitchen. You never cared what Rafe's friends thought of you, you never cared what anybody thought of you. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you roll your eyes at the blonde boy, who's leaning against the counter. His ring clad fingers are holding onto the solo cup, but the flirtatious smile is just for you. You had gathered as much over time.  “One day, you'll beg, y/l/n,” he says and takes a sip.  “Not if I make you beg first, Maybank,” you smirk and take the bottle of tequila to fill two shot glasses.  “I never beg,” he counters, and you laugh.  “Oh, I'd bet my BMW you do.”  “Does Rafe?”  “I won't tell you that, you'd just go runnin’round tellin’ people,” you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and hold the shot out for him to take. “Be happy that I'm keeping him on a leash. He'd have ripped your head off by now if I didn't.”  You watch him take the shot, and follow. The slight burn in your throat wakes you up, and the warmth in your stomach is familiarly cozy.  “And why would he do that?” JJ asks, tilting his head to the side.  “‘Cause you won't stop staring at my tits, Maybank,” you bite your lip and take the step over to him, leaning in and whispering into his ear. “I know how you look at me, as if I'm the ultimate price. But you wouldn't even be able to handle me on your best days, pretty boy.”  “You underestimate me, princess,” he whispers, and you pull away to look at him fully.  “Maybe in another life, Maybank,” you wink at him, grabbing the bottle of tequila and making your way back to the couch. 

“What he want?” Rafe asks as soon as you get back and take your seat by his side.  “Nothing,” you sigh and kiss Rafe's cheek, leaving a lipstick mark behind. He doesn't need to know how much it riles you up when JJ flirts with you. How much you have to suppress the need to kiss him whenever you see him. It doesn't even make sense why it is like that.  JJ and you have nothing in common, and you are happy about that.  You love being in a relationship with Rafe. You don't care much about love anyway, so why would you need to love the person you are in a relationship with if they are perfect on paper? Rafe is everything your dad had wanted in a future son-in-law. He comes from good money, takes care of the people close to him, and knows how to act around money. You don't need to love him to build a good future with him. After all, your grandparents had done it the same way. And when you look at your own parents' life together, you keep wondering if it had really been the wisest decision to marry for love.  No, love was overrated, and so was whatever you felt when JJ looked at you. 

“You sell any yet?” you ask straight out, and Rafe clears his throat and gives you a look that doesn't really make sense to you. “What?”  “You know they won't buy shit when you're here, unless you act it,” he whispers to you and you roll your eyes.  “Fine, but only one,” you cave, and for the next few hours you play the dumb girlfriend. For some reason, all of his buyers are some type of misogynistic asshole, and the only one who you could talk to without feeling looked down on is Barry. But Barry never gets invited to the parties, because he doesn't fit in.  To you, he's not much different than the businessmen your dad had worked with, the same ones you would have to deal with once you were officially taking over the company. 

“Baby, c’mere,” Rafe claps on his thighs, and you turn to straddle him, giving him a single warning glance to not fuck up.  “Love when you use my tits for it, babe,” you giggle stupidly, but internally you feel like throwing up. And it just gets worse when he puts a little line of the fine powder on your skin and dips his head down to snort it off. Your eyes cross with JJ's as soon as Rafe's head is down, and he vanishes from your vision the moment Rafe comes back up, wiping his nose.  “Thank you, baby,” he smiles and kisses you. It's a show. When you moan into him and buck your hips; and for once you're not sure if the show is for his clients, or for the blonde Pogue who can't keep his eyes off of you.  “I wanna go upstairs,” you whisper to Rafe and he nods.  “Just gimme ten and I'll meet you there.” 

You get up and walk off, towards the stairs. A quick glance back to Rafe, who's focused on counting money, before you take the stairs, downstairs instead of up.  You decide to take a look around. The pool is a perfect 80 °F and if you had swimming stuff with you, you'd consider swimming for a while. Training a little to clear up your mind.  “Didn't you tell him you'd be upstairs, waiting?” You hear JJ behind you and turn around.  “And? I changed my mind. He doesn't care if he fucks me here or at home,” you shrug and JJ shakes his head.  “God, you really are something.”  “What do you want, Maybank?” you sneer, walking around the pool towards the sauna at the end of the room. The sound of your heels on the concrete floor echoes through the huge room.  “Why are you with him if you hate him so much?” he asks and starts walking closer, following you.  “I don't hate him. I hate his friends, anyone but Barry, basically. I hate how he acts around them. But I don't hate him,” you clarify, and JJ nods.  “But you don't love him.”  “Who needs love anyway,” you smile. The picture-perfect smile you had practiced in front of the mirror since you were 12, the same one you had to relearn when your dad had died. It was an ironclad mask.  “I forgot, you don't have a heart,” JJ smiles but drops it instantly.  “Tell me what you want, or leave,” you roll your eyes at him and he steps closer. Your heart starts racing as he leans over you, brushing a curl from your face and tucking it behind your ear.  “What do you want?” he rasps quietly and your eyes flutter, it's a reflex, and you don't know why. You don't understand why he has this effect on you.  “Nothing,” you press out, and his thumb ghosts your lips.  “I don't like when you lie to me, y/n,” JJ whispers, and you can't stop yourself from getting lost in his blue eyes. They are so different from Rafe's. JJ's eyes are bright and hopeful, they feel like happiness entrapped to you. And you can't stand it, because this isn't how it's supposed to be.  “Tell me what you want,” he demands, leaning down to smell your neck, his nose brushing against your skin and giving you goosebumps.  “It’s neither appropriate nor allowed,” you hush, and he chuckles.  "Since when do you care about any of that? You make the rules on this side of the island, don't you, princess?” 

You blame it on the tequila when your lips find his. You blame it on the daiquiri when he leads you into the cold supply closet, without pulling out of your kiss. You would blame it on the coke, when he pushes your dress up and sinks into you; but you hadn't had any coke that night. 

“Fuck, you're so wet for me, baby,” JJ groans, he had sat you down on a lower shelf, and you did your best to hold onto the metal structure that was pressing into your back.  “Shut up and kiss me, asshole,” you gasp, and he does just that. His kisses are wet and sloppy, just like his fast thrusts. But you can't stop kissing him, not only because it feels like heaven and hell combined. But mainly because you know you'd be screaming by the way his cock keeps kissing your cervix.  “You're so good at taking it, princess. Fuck, you feel so good,” JJ moans, and you can't help but feel pride in how much he seems to love it.  “Look at it,” you demand, and he dips his head, focusing on where you are connected. Your slip tucked to the side, but it's ruined anyway, it had been from the moment on he had started to flirt with you.  “What's that say,” JJ asks, his thumb rubbing over your tattoo, making you smirk.  “Eat me, Maybank. It says, eat me,” you moan, and he grins.  “Next time, princess,” he growls and starts rubbing your clit in harsh circles. You don't understand how he does it, but he has you moaning even louder, and clenching around his cock in the matter of minutes. The band in your stomach is ready to burst, and you don't think you've felt this good ever before. It feels like he's made for you, but you know that can't be the case.  “Cum for me, pretty girl. Soak my dick,” JJ breathes into your ear, and as soon as you come undone, he pulls his hand from your clit and shoves his fingers down your throat to shut you up.  You feel afloat and completely dazed when he pulls his fingers out and clasps his hand over your mouth. 

“Shh, quiet,” JJ whispers, and you hear footsteps outside the closet. If someone finds you, you're screwed.  “No, she's not down here either. Check upstairs again, man,” Rafe's annoyed voice carries through the door, and you stare at JJ. You're not scared of what might happen to you if Rafe found out, but more so that he'd finally snap and actually hurt JJ like he had threatened so many times before.  Rafe is still outside the door when JJ decides to start fucking you again, and your eyes roll back uncontrollably. He knows how badly you want to make a sound for him, but you can't let yourself.  As soon as his footsteps carry Rafe back upstairs, you let out a loud groan, pulling JJ into a kiss and purposely squeezing his dick just to prove to him that you're the one in charge. And when his hips stutter, and he spills out inside of you, you don't even mind it. You like the feeling, especially when he keeps fucking it into you, muttering incoherently about how good he fucked you. 

“Do you always praise yourself after?” you ask him after having pulled your dress back down.  “Do you always cheat on your boyfriend with Pogues?” he smirks, and you push him back against the shelf.  “If anyone finds out about this, you are dead, you understand? Either you shut up, and hope for a second time, or I can ruin your life. I don't need Rafe to do it for me, I can do it all by myself. Do you understand?” You poke into his chest and he nods.  “Good,” you take a step back again, and he grabs for your chin, pulling you close again.  “I have one question, princess. Has he ever fucked you raw?”  “I don't trust him enough for that,” you reply, and JJ snorts.  “Why'd you let me, then?”  “You don't sleep around as much as you pride yourself, Maybank. I mean, you're not bad, but- Well, it all comes down to the circles you run in and the ones you don't,” you give him a mean smile and open the door to go look for a bathroom. 

“How do you plan on not letting him find out if he never-”  “I told you, he does what I say. If I say no, he's not getting any,” you tell him and turn a corner towards the bathroom.  “You really got him wrapped around your finger,” JJ laughs.  “You too,” you grin before sitting down to pee, you don't care that he is standing right next to you.  “Didn't you literally call Cally R. disgusting for insinuating that she doesn't mind peeing in her boyfriend's presence?” JJ laughs.  “First of all,” you say while finishing up and standing. “Cally R. is a lying slut, the only reason why she keeps having to piss in front of her boyfriend is because she can't get rid of her std. And why doesn't it go away? Well, because little miss piss queen keeps on fucking Tyler Folly on the side. Calling her disgusting was the kindest thing I could do to her.”  “And the second reason?” JJ cocks his brow up.  “You're not my boyfriend, Maybank. And getting rid of your shit inside me, is kinda necessary unless you want me ending up like Cally,” you give him a threatening smile, and he holds his hands up in defense. “Good.”  “I'm just wondering if it's not hypocritical, with the whole fucking on the side and all,” he mumbles before wetting a towel and trying to remove the red lipstick marks from his face.  “I don't claim to love my boyfriend, and Rafe never claimed to love me. He thinks we have an open relationship on his side. I don't see why it can't be open on both,” you shrug and pull the lipstick from your bra to reapply it.  “Was I- was I better?” JJ mumbles, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck.  “Could you choose between your two favorite types of food?” you ask, and he starts to grin.  “You know, that's a weird metaphor.”  “Simile,” you correct him, and he exhales a laugh.  “You're a real smartass, y/l/n.”  “And you can be glad you're pretty.”  “Pretty enough to fuck your brains out,” JJ turns you towards him and leans over, his lips ghosting yours and when he pulls back you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. “See,” he smirks.  “If you want to do it again you can't fuck around, and most importantly you won't tell a soul. But then again, who would even believe you,” you scoff and turn around to leave, taking the stairs and vanishing in the crowd before anyone had noticed where you had come from. 

“Where were you? I was looking all over,” Rafe sounds concerned and hugs you, out of courtesy, surely. Rafe rarely hugs you unless you ask for it, or the social obligations call for it.  “Just here and there, I went upstairs and forgot why. I'm sorry, babe,” you tell him, and he lets it go.  “Hey, y/n, wanna play a game with us?” Topper asks, and you turn to look at the group of people gathered, your eyes get stuck on JJ for just a second before they snap back to Top.  “Sure,” you smile and push Rafe into a chair, sitting down sideways on his lap. 

It's a dumb drinking game, just like always. It stays rather boring until Topper's new girlfriend gets to speak, and you instantly regret your choice to take part.  “Never have I ever had sex with someone in this room,” she giggles and falls back down into Top before they each take a sip of their drinks.  You take a sip, focusing on Rafe, but Rafe is staring right across from where the two of you are sitting.  “Why does Maybank keep staring at you,” he whispers in your ear and you shrug.  “He's a creep, you know that, babe,” you try to calm your boyfriend down, but you know it's not gonna help much. 

“Never have I ever cheated,” JJ says and takes a drink, but the chatter went mute as soon as the words left him. “I thought we were being honest, guys. God, you guys really are some Kooks,” he laughs and stands up to leave. His eyes are yet again fixed on you, but this time you can't force yourself to look away.  “Maybe cheating is just a Pogue quality,” you say, and a few silent mumbles seem to agree with your lie.  “You must know all about that, princess,” JJ smirks and tips his non-existent cap to you before turning and walking away, out of the house and into the darkness.  “He’s so weird,” Topper's girlfriend lets out a disgusted grunt.  “Was he even invited?” Topper asks and I roll my eyes.  “They don't check invitations at the entrance, stupid,” you laugh it off. “He probably stole something,” someone out of the crowd suggested, and you stood up in a light fit of anger, before you realized that you couldn't act on it.  “What would he steal here? Cheap candles from Target?” you scoff and walk off. “Rafe!” you call out, and he takes a moment before he meets you outside by the car. 

“I didn't wanna go home yet,” he complains.  “And? You have to drive me home. After that, you can do whatever the fuck you want,” you scoff at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.  “What's up with you?” he snorts, opening the door for you and letting you get in.  “I'm tired and annoyed by these people who think they're better than anyone else, just because their dad's play golf and fuck their secretaries,” you mutter, and he stops asking, dropping you off at your house and driving off as soon as you are inside. 

Weeks go by in which you don't even see a glimpse of JJ. You manage to push the memory so far back into your brain that you don't even dream of it, well, not as often.  And when Rafe fucks you, it's good, it's great, but you don't feel as complete after as you had with JJ. 

“Best pussy in the fucking world,” Rafe groans as he pounds into you from behind. Your face is pressed into the duvet and your ass is high up in the air. He had been stretching you out for what felt like hours. It was good, he hit every single spot inside of you perfectly, but you couldn't get yourself to cum.  “Would be so much better without it, baby,” Rafe rasps, and you're not really listening, just nodding and groaning in response to whatever he's saying.  Before you can actually register what is happening, he has pulled out and slammed into you again, but it feels different. You can feel him more clearly, every single vein on his thick cock, the soft tip that kept nudging your cervix as he went deeper.  “Fuck, I love you, I love this pussy so much,” Rafe moans and without a single warning he cums inside you, filling you up and clouding your mind. You gasp, close to an orgasm but not yet there and if he'd just- but he pulls out and you all you can feel is used.  “Shit, did you not,” he pulls you into him, having fallen into the sheets by your side, but you put on a smile.  “It's okay. Next time,” you tell him and get up to clean yourself up. You curse yourself for losing yourself in your thoughts about JJ instead of paying attention to what your boyfriend had said to you. And now you had two guys thinking they could fuck you over anyway they wanted.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asks as you leave the bathroom wrapped in your robe.  “Yeah, just next time, maybe warn me beforehand. Probably would've been better if we had both finished,” you say and roll your eyes while your back is turned to him.  “Why are you getting dressed?”  “I have to buy q tips, we don't have any left,” you lie and he scoffs.  “You could just ask the help to go buy some, and I could make it up to you. Come on, baby,” he slaps the empty bed to his left, but you shake your head.  “I just need some air, all right.”  “Fine. But text me so I know you're okay,” he sighs and gets up to take a shower. 

You basically run out of the house, jumping in your car and driving off towards the Cut before you realize you don't even know where to go.  You pull out your phone and scroll down a long list of contacts before you find his number, saved under three Xs to remind you to never text him, but here you are, doing just that.  “Where are you?” you type out and hit send, a second later a text appears on your screen.  “why?”  “Tattoo” is all you say, but the three small dots stay for a while and then they vanish. You are about to curse him out when a text pops up.  “you know the Château?” “Routledge?” “yes” You put your phone away and start driving again. Maybe you'd have to thank Topper's weird obsession with Sarah for knowing where the house was, but you really couldn't. 

As soon as you arrive, you kill the engine and jump out of your jeep, stomping towards the porch.  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Kiara sneers at you, but you don't pay her any attention. You grab JJ's hand and drag him into the house.  “That's the wrong way,” he chuckles and holds you back from going deeper into the house, pulling you to the side and into a small bedroom.  “Tell me what's wrong,” he asks, wanting to hold onto you, but you brush him off.  “He said he loved me,” you yell at JJ even though it's not his fault, nor can he do anything about it.  “And that's bad?” he raises his eyebrows at you and you huff.  “Yes. Yes, it is. You don't fuck someone, not let them fucking finish and then tell them you love them,” you hiss quietly, not wanting his friends to be able to hear it all.  “I see. I can help with one of those,” JJ smirks and pulls you into a kiss. A kiss that makes you forget why you even came over. Like a snip of his finger, he had erased all the bad thoughts and feelings inside of you, replacing them with warmth and desire.  “They didn't believe me,” he whispers against your lips before bringing them into another kiss. You pull on his shirt, and he takes it off.  “Told you they wouldn't,” you smile and take your own shirt off before starting to fumble with his shorts.  “Now they have to,” JJ chuckles and pushes his pants down, leaving the boxers on. 

He pushes you onto the bed, kissing you all over, especially focusing on your tits, and you nearly cum just from that. His skilled tongue toys with your nipple while his hand squeezes the other tit mercilessly.  “You have the best tits, baby,” JJ moans against your skin, squeezing them another time before trailing his lips down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach to the hem of your jeans shorts.  “Are you sure?” he asks while looking up at you, but the way he's lying between your legs is godly. His unruly hair is hanging into his face, his lips slightly parted in a mischievous smile.  “I'll go ask one of the others if you don't want to,” you tease him, and he nips at your hips. “Don't ever suggest that shit again, princess.”  “Noted, but only if your tongue’s as good as your dick,” you smirk.  JJ takes his time taking off your shorts, teasing you and edging you on, and you want to drown in the feelings he can so easily conjure in you.  “You smell different,” he notes and presses his nose against your slip. “I'm not gonna do this when you smell like him.”  “I told you,” you sit up on your elbows and look at his disgusted face.  “You didn't say he fucked you raw. That's different, and you know it,” JJ complained and sat back up.  “I don't see the problem. It's an easy fix,” you shrug and pull him closer by his neck. Your lips press against his until you have him lying underneath you. 

“See, easy,” you grin down at him, pulling his boxers down just enough to let his hard cock spring free.  “Aren't you pretty,” you whisper to his pink tip, placing a kiss on it and tasting his salty precum.  “If you do that again, I'm busting a nut. You gotta warn a guy,” he laughs nervously.  “Cute,” you giggle and lift yourself up, pulling your slip to the side and brushing his throbbing tip through your aching slit. You let out a sigh of relief as you sink down on him, the familiarity makes you feel better instantly.  Fucking JJ is easy, it's messy, it's freeing.  You don't mind that he can't keep himself from cumming when you do, because he's ready instantly as if it never had happened.  You claw at his chest while you bounce on him, screaming of pleasure and not caring who can hear you.  Your pussy sounds obscenely wet, and can feel the mix of your many releases spill out of you and onto him. But JJ doesn't care as long as you keep fucking yourself with his dick, he doesn't even mind having to take over when you get a cramp in your leg.  He's moaning and cursing worse than you, calling you all kinds of dirty things, but mostly he's showering you with compliments, which turns you on even more than you had ever thought.  And when he finally pulls out, your pussy is still clenching, pushing out all of his and your cum. 

“Would you look at that, princess. We should definitely not clean you up and send you back home just like that, show him who's actually better at fucking this pretty pussy.” JJ says and takes two fingers to push his cum back into you.  “J, please,” you beg him to stop. You are overstimulated and sore, so sore you feel like you might not be able to walk properly the next few days.  “Oh, but we haven't even done what you promised me, princess. You wouldn't let a poor guy starve, would you?” JJ gives you a pout and moves back to kiss your swollen cunt. A jolt goes through your body as he does it another time.  “You taste so sweet, baby,” he moans into you, his hands massaging your thighs; tongue dipping into your hole and nose brushing against your clit.  You moan and mewl as he slowly kisses and licks you to your orgasm, you can't even remember how many you've had that day, but what you do know is that the last one was the best one. 

“Where'd you learn to use your tongue like that?” you ask him out of breath as he's lying next to you.  “Natural talent, y/l/n,” JJ boasts and turns his head to kiss you, twisting his tongue with yours and then pulling you closer. His hand is harshly gripping your thigh, pulling your leg over his own; while your own hands are entangled in his hair. There's a sense of security in the way he kisses you, like you know he won't leave even if you'd tell him to.  “JJ-” you try to pull away, but his lips keep on chasing yours, even when you try to get his attention by biting him. So, you pull on his hair, holding his head in place and making him whine with it.  “S’unfair,” he murmurs.  “I have to go home, it's late,” you remind him.  “You could stay, I could show you how much better I am at morning sex,” JJ tries to convince you, but you know it's impossible.  You let go of his head and twirl a strand of his hair in between your fingers. “It's a charming proposal, but you know I can't. He'll come looking for me, and we don't want that to happen, do we?”  “I’ll let you go if you answer me one question.”  You roll your eyes at his antics, but agree to it anyway. “Deal, dumbass,” you smile. “Why’d you text me?” JJ whispers, and you sigh, turning around to look at the ceiling.  “I don't know,” you lie.  “I think you do, you're just lying to yourself if you say anything else. Because I wouldn't have told you to come by if I didn't feel the same,” he admits and nuzzles his face into your neck.  “It's a polar opposite. And I never thought- It's difficult to know you want a specific thing when you never had it, and once it’s there, it's hard to forget about it. And he won't give me that, I know it,” you explain quietly and JJ kisses your neck in response.  “I would never even consider not letting you cum, baby,” he hushes against your skin, and it gives you goosebumps all over. It's cozy and loving in a way, and it might just scare the life out of you when you realize that you crave this affection he's giving you.  “I have to go,” you press out and jump up, leaving JJ groaning as he runs his hands over his face. You find your clothes pretty quickly and put them back on, while he stays in bed, lying there looking like a Greek god.  “You look severely fuck out. I like it,” he grins, his head propped up on his hand. “Walk of shame material?”  “Nah, nothing to be ashamed of.”  “You know that's not what I meant,” you sigh and leave the room to go look for the bathroom.  “Left,” JJ calls out, and you turn left, towards the end of the hallway and enter the small bathroom. You don't understand how they can live in such a narrow space, but you know mentioning it will not end well. 

Your curls are standing up in every possible direction and your eyes look extremely tired.  “See, not bad at all,” JJ smirks, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom.  “Do you have a hair tie or something?” you ask, and he steps behind you and pulls a drawer open. You pick out a simple black hair tie that could easily pass as one of your own, and wind your hair into a loose knot.  “Tell me again why I should let you go back to that asshole?” JJ asks, laying his chin on your shoulder.  “One, because he's not an asshole, and two, because he's gonna kill you. I don't want to see you dead, you're really good at what you do,” you say while looking at him through the mirror, and the smile on his face gets deeper as you speak.  “The secret side piece,” JJ flashes his brows at you, and you can't stop the light chuckle that leaves you. Charming and sweet and all you should ever want and need- “I really have to go now,” you remind yourself, and he lets go of you. 

When you walk out onto the porch, your eyes meet Sarah's and your heart stops, but you can't let yourself get caught up in it. You know, she hasn't spoken to Rafe in a whole year. She surely won't break that silence just to tell on you.  Your feet quickly move you towards your car, but before you can open your door, you are harshly turned around and pushed against the metal.  JJ kisses you so hard, you wish you could go back inside and do it all over again. His hand is holding onto your neck while the other is gripping your waist. It feels like the best kiss in your entire life, and it awakes something inside of you that you had long thought dead. The tiny flutter in your stomach is as faint as a gust of wind in spring, but you know it's there, and you know it'll just complicate everything else with it. When he pulls away, he does it slowly, leaving an abundance of small, soft kisses on your lips before running his thumb over them.  “She won't tell. None of them will, I promise,” he whispers and you nod, believing him.  “You should go. Didn't know kissing alone could turn a guy on like that.” You smirk innocently as your hand traces over his erection, and he can't even hide it because he hadn't thought about putting on anything more than underwear.  “That's all you,” JJ whispers and kisses you one last time. “Text me,” he says before stepping back and letting you get into your car.  As you drive off, you can see him flipping off his friends before going inside; and then the house, and all of them with it, vanish as you make your way back home. 

“Where were you?” Rafe bludgeons as soon as you get through the door.  “Out. You don't need to know everything, you know?” you snap at him.  “You didn't text and were gone for hours, y/n.”  “Shit, you sound more like my parents then my parents ever did,” you laugh and make your way into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and downing it in one go.  “Excuse me for giving a fuck,” Rafe barks, and you roll your eyes.  “If you hadn't been selfish, like fucking always, I wouldn't have walked out.”  “I wanted to make it up to you. You left!” he counters and you gulp hard.  “Tell me what you would've done. Something that puts me first for a change or no?” Your blood is boiling and there is nothing that can stop your fit of rage. It had been easier to look past Rafe's selfish tendencies when you hadn't known any better, but now that you do, you can't help but get annoyed at him for it.  “Where's this coming from now?” he laughs, pacing along the room.  “God, why can't you fucking open your eyes! You know, sometimes I fake it just so it's over quicker,” you spit out, but he knows it's a lie, it's the one thing you promised each other to never lie about.  “You never tell me what you want either,” Rafe says, and you hate that it's true.  “Would you do it if I did?”  “I can try,” he raises his shoulders in what feels like defeat to you, but you can't be sure.  “Good,” you glare, but you know it's unnecessary.  “Now?” he asks, somewhat hopeful, but you shake your head.  “Maybe tomorrow, or whenever. I'm tired right now,” you sigh and make your way upstairs to take a bath. 

The hot water is soaking your body, and you close your eyes and let it play out again. How JJ kept kissing you as he fucked you senseless, how his praises worked way better for you than Rafe's degradations. How he had kept looking up at you with his head buried between your legs.  Your hand travels down between your legs, rubbing soft circles on your clit, and it's not enough. Your fingers plunge into your pussy, curling perfectly, but it's not enough. You can't reach, and it frustrates you.  You step out of the tub, dripping wet as you make your way into the bedroom and Rafe doesn't complain when you straddle him. And he complains even less you start to fuck yourself with his dick. It's not something you’ve ever done with him, but he wants to be better for you, and he doesn't mind as long as he gets to fuck you one way or the other.  “Tell me how much you want me,” you moan softly while bouncing on his huge cock. The light stinging feeling his size always causes you just adds to your pleasure.  “You're so fucking hot, fucking me like the slut you are,” Rafe rasps, holding onto your hips.  “No, something nice. Tell me something nice.” You shake your head but keep going anyway.  “Uhm, okay… You're fucking me so well, baby,” Rafe says, but his eyebrows are furrowed until you moan louder.  “Yes, more.”  “I love your tight pussy, baby,” he groans, and you fall down on top of him, kissing him, but it doesn't feel at all like you had hoped. He tastes like whiskey, but you craved the mix of weed and beer. Yet all of your thoughts about it fly out the window when he stops your hips and starts pounding into you from below.  “Faster,” you gasp into him, biting his lip and digging your nails into his shoulders. It's mind-bending, they way he fucks you and his uncontrollable noises turn you on even more. Rafe grunts and moans like you've not heard it before, and you wish you had made him try it earlier. 

“Fuck, baby, tell me you're close,” Rafe moans, and you press your face against his shoulder, feeling the band inside you tighten.  “So close, babe, don't stop,” you cry out and snake a hand down to your clit rubbing harshly and suddenly JJ's words echo in your mind.  “Cum for me, y/n. Be a good girl and let go.” You scream when your orgasm rips through you and Rafe follows just a second later, pushing in deeper and painting your walls in his pretty white.  “Keep going, just a bit,” you instruct him, and he fucks his cum into you with a few more thrusts until you tell him to stop again.  “That was probably the best sex we ever had,” you sigh, still not ready to get up and have him leave you.  “Definitely top ten,” Rafe pants and runs his hand over your back.  “No, definitely the best,” you argue with a smile and he caves.  “All right, the best.” 

After having cleaned up you're back in bed, and cuddled into his side, your head resting on his chest.  “Why didn't you tell me all that earlier? We could've done this already,” he whispers, and you don't know how to come up with a good lie.  “I don't know. Maybe I hoped you'd figure it out on your own one day.”  “It's very different from what we usually do,” Rafe mumbles, brushing over your hair.  “I like how you fuck me, but sometimes I need something for me. I need control too,” you whisper and he kisses your head.  “We can do that.”  “Good.”  “I love you,” Rafe sighs, and you can hear his breath slow as he falls asleep. 

Your dreams are haunted by JJ, always, and you wish you could turn it off. Sometimes Rafe gets to him, other times you see yourself living the Pogue life, as if that was ever something you'd even do as much as consider. But tonight it's different from any other time. 

You are at home, Rafe is sitting at the kitchen island, and JJ is lying on the couch. They are both aware of each other and not actively trying to murder one another. The whole scene makes you incredibly suspicious, but it just gets worse when two blonde children come running in.  “Dad!” one of them yells and both JJ and Rafe pick up their heads.  “What's up?” Rafe asks and gets up from his seat, giving you a loving smile before leaning down to the child and talking to it.  “Well, your friends are pretty fucking stupid for not getting it,” Rafe tells the child and JJ snorts.  “Yeah, what's not to get? My wife has another guy, and we play daddy roulette every single time.”  “Daddy roulette?” you ask and furrow your brows at the two.  “You said it's better to not know. Removes the thing for fighting or whatever,” JJ explains.  “This one, definitely mine,” Rafe points at your stomach, and you look down at yourself to see yourself severely pregnant. Your belly is bigger than you'd ever imagined and it feels even worse.  “Why is it so big?” Your heart starts racing, and you feel like you're about to fall over.  “That's because we're having twins. You got a Maybank and a Cameron in there, baby, just like you love it,” JJ grins and your vision goes blurry. 

“Y/n, will you please stop screaming? I was trying to sleep!” Rafe groans after shaking you awake.  “Sorry,” you mumble and turn away from him.  “Bad dream or what?” he asks.  “You don't have to pretend to care,” you whisper, and he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.  “I do care, but I also really need to sleep, baby,” he mumbles and kisses your neck a single time.  “We should just sleep,” you mutter and this time you are allowed to get your few hours of dreamless sleep instead of being haunted by your mistakes. 

Weeks turn into months, and one hookup every other week turns to some every other day.  The more Rafe tries to focus more on you, the more you seem to crave JJ and the lightness of what you have with him.  Like the quick fucks in the Country Club restroom, or the “business meetings” you tell Rafe about. After all, you really don't have a choice, because where Rafe is still reluctant to go down on you, JJ is offering it every single time, even when you are really not capable of cumming another time.  You know it would be technically easy to break up with Rafe, but you can't. You promised your dead father to marry a good man, someone from a good family. And Rafe is exactly what your dad had in mind.  And even if that wasn't the case, you still couldn't, or just don't want to, really.  You like that every girl on the island seems to want what you have, especially with both boys on your leash. You like that people are scared of you, because they know Rafe does what you tell him to, and not because he’s scared, no because he knows it's the best way to live his life. What most people don't know is that although still rich, the Camerons had suffered a dent in their savings, and not a small one. But you, you are secured by a long line of rich assholes. Old money. More than you could ever spend in a lifetime. Which just means that Rafe doesn't have the faintest idea why he should ever leave you. You are his perfect package deal. 

“boat day?” The text from JJ rips you out of your thoughts, and you praise the fact that Rafe has the day packed with meetings.  “sure” you reply quickly and get back to doing your hair.  “I should come pick you up”  “no, you really shouldn't.” You shake your head at his dangerously stupid idea. The boat thing is after all already risky, you don't need to up the chances of anyone finding out. “Will be there in 30.”

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Kiara scoffs as soon as you get out of your car.  “I invited her,” JJ shrugs as if it's nothing special and keeps walking towards the pier.  “You shouldn't get to invite anyone, especially not the Kook bitch who keeps fucking you on the side to get back at her even worse Kook boyfriend,” Kiara complains. “I'm not getting back at anyone,” you smile at her, knowing how much it must enrage her that you keep your cool and calm exterior.  “Just, please be nice, Kie,” JJ yells from afar and you hide your grin.  “John B!” Kiara hollers and walks back into the house, while you keep standing there, leaning against your car. As soon as JJ comes back they all gather on the porch, discussing the matter of your attendance. 

“You know I can hear you, right?” you say loudly after Kiara had called you a slut the third time in a row. “Then why are you still here?” she snaps at you.  You stroll towards the steps that lead up the porch and walk to where they are standing. It's not that you are particularly happy that they are all there too, but you at least have the decency to be nice to them, if not for anything but JJ’s sake.  “I'm interested in what your issue is here,” you ask and Sarah scoffs.  “Maybe that you're a horrible person. Using JJ? Cheating on my brother?”  “Oh, a horse can only be that high,” you smile at her.  JJ tugs on your hand and makes you look at him. “You said you'd be nice.”  “I am nice. I'm not the one calling people slut and whore and what else y'all can come up with for me. But I'm not gonna stand here and hear these insults if they can't even take one back. And for the record that wasn't an insult, it was the truth and y'all know it,” you say and John B runs his hands through his hair, visibly on edge.  “Are you kidding me? You literally insult us all the fucking time,” Kiara spits at you, and you can't help the tiny laugh that escapes you.  “I don't insult Pogues, you guys have it hard enough as is, but… you're not a Pogue, Carrera. I guess that means you're fair game, because that one,” you point at Sarah, “is basically family, as much as I hate to say it, and you don't go against your own.”  “You’re not my family. You'll never be,” Sarah shakes her head.  “Okay,” you roll your eyes at her.  “Can we just-” JJ tries to get control of the conversation, but Kiara stops him.  “No, we can't. If she's here, I'm leaving.”  “Y'all are the worst fucking friends in the world,” you laugh and take a step back, ready to leave. “Incredible.” You turn around and walk back to your car, JJ right behind you. 

“Don't leave, please,” he asks, and you stop in your tracks, turning around on the dirt and looking straight at him.  “I tried, you can't tell me to do more than that. I'm not gonna be called a whore and slut every five fucking minutes. It's appalling how your friends can't even pretend to like me for a few hours, but I'm supposed to do so while also being insulted. I'm not doing that. I'm sorry.” “I'll make it up to you, just don't go,” he begs and you shake your head. “No.” “What do you mean no?”  “I mean, no, because you have nothing to make up to me. They are the ones constantly fucking up. Last time you told them beforehand, and suddenly they all had different plans. They hate me,” you tell him, but he didn't seem to wanna hear it.  “Can we just try and-”  “I did try. Don't force me to do this, J. I can't do this if they can't even manage to not call me names,” you say quietly, and he takes your face in his hands, warm and calloused.  “Will you wait just another few minutes and if I can't fix it, we will go to my place. Sound all right?” His voice is low and raspy, and it's making you wet just a little bit.  “You never invited me to your house before,” you whisper, blushing and pressing your thighs together to try to get rid of the growing desire between them. “It's an equally favorable outcome to the other thing then?”  “More favorable to me,” you smile and lean up to peck his lips. “Use that magical charm of yours,” you whisper and push him back to go talk to his friends. 

Half an hour later you're all sitting on the small boat somewhere in the marsh.  “You want a beer?” JJ asks and hands you a can. “You know how to shotgun, right?”  I can pretend I don't so you can show me,” you smile at him and he laughs.  “That would be cheating.” You grin at him before taking out your keys, plunging a hole in the can and chugging it in a matter of seconds.  “Impressive,” JJ notes before shotgunning his own can and dropping some beer on his sun kissed skin. You don't even think about it when you lean in and kiss the droplets away. Your kisses trail upwards, along his neck until they connect to his mouth, and he kisses you like his life depends on it. His hands come up to hold your face, while yours are in his neck, twirling the hair at the nape of it.  “I should shotgun a few more if this is the new process,” JJ smirks, his forehead leaning against yours.  You blink slowly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and giving him a small nod. “M-hmm,” you hum, and he places another kiss on your lips. 

“Should we, uh, play a game or?” Pope suggests, and you turn to shift your focus away from JJ and towards the people he calls his friends.  “What type of game?” you ask with a genuine interest.  “Truth or dare,” Kiara suggests with a mean smile on her face.  “Who starts?” you ask and give her a polite smile, serving its intended purpose when she rolls her eyes.  “Truth or dare, princess,” JJ asks and turns your head towards him with a simple nudge of his finger.  “Truth,” you whisper.  “Why did you come when I asked?”  “Because I like you,” you gaze into his blue eyes, and he smiles, “for more than the incredible sex also. It's actually pretty fun with you.”  “Definite win on my end,” he whispers.  “Truth or dare… John B,” you say before turning your head to look at him. He gives you a confused look, his eyes jumping between JJ and you.  “Truth,” he shrugs.  “Do you actually hate me or do you just hate me because your girlfriend hates me?” Your smile is sugar sweet, but the glare you give Sarah could definitely make milk curdle.  “I mean, you're a Kook and I don't understand what this is,” he gestures at JJ and you. “But I guess, I don't know you enough to hate you or like you.”  His answer genuinely surprises you because you didn't think he'd be honest and not just say the thing Sarah wanted to hear. 

The game goes back and forth with a few dares and a few harmless truths in between, until it's Sarah's turn, and she glares at you as if she wants to actually kill you.  “Truth or Dare, y/l/n?”  “Dare,” you reply quickly, and her mean smile grows wider.  “Call Rafe and tell him where you are,” she demands. “It's 2:30pm, he's in a meeting. I'm not gonna call him during a meeting just because of a stupid game,” you scoff and laugh at her stupid dare.  “How do you know he's in a meeting right this second?” she hits back at you, and you can't help but laugh even more, but you catch yourself and answer a bit more seriously. “I have his schedule memorized. That's what you do when you're a good girlfriend.”  “A good girlfriend wouldn't cheat!” she screams at you. “You think he doesn't? That's a pretty narrow-minded way to look at it, sis.” You know the new nickname has her boiling, and the little sadistic part of your brain loves to see it. “And you don't get to talk about cheating, everyone is aware of your timeline errors.”  “I never loved Topper,” she defends herself, as if it makes her morally superior to you. “And I don't love Rafe, but you at least had a fucking choice because your shitty life was never bound to you marrying whoever your parents pick so you ‘get to’ inherent what would rightfully be yours anyway. So don't fucking tell me what to do with my life, because everyone else has always done it too, and they had more legitimacy for it,” you yell at her, unintentionally spilling more of your secrets than you had initially wanted to, and they all go quiet. The only thing you can hear after you're done is a few frogs, the birds close by, the waves crashing against the boat and your heart pounding in your chest.

JJ pulls you in closer and hugs you while placing soft, calming kisses on your neck.  “I wanna go home,” you whisper to him, tired of having had to pretend, even if it had just been for an hour.  “Let me talk to them. I promise it's gonna get better,” he says and gets up.  There's no doubt in your mind that it won't. Yet you don't understand why you keep giving him, and with it, them, one chance after the other, when you wouldn't usually give anyone even a second chance. You look out onto the water, your legs propped up, arms around them and your head lying on your knees. You think back to the last night you had with your dad, before he had died in a horrible car crash. T-boned by a drunk driver who hadn't seen a red light. You think about how you had tried to convince him to change his mind, that you could run the company without a man by your side, that you were good enough. But all your pleas had fallen on deaf ears. And your mom isn't any better. She decided to stay away, vacating in Palm Beach and only coming home every other month to make sure you are still alive. She deals with grief like that. By sunbathing and drinking and pretending like everything is fine and perfect and not at all in shambles.  Instead, you decided to close off your heart, and that worked for nearly two years until JJ decided to charm his way into it. You don't like it, the thought of feeling all this pain again. Or worse, to know once you let yourself love, the pain will be inevitable. People leave one way or the other, that's how life has always been and how it always will be. 

“Hey,” John B rips you out of your head, and you don't even turn to look at him as he sits down next to you.  “What do you want?” you say in the meanest way you can conjure, but it still sounds pathetic.  “I'm sorry about your dad, I know he died a few years back. I, uhm, I just wanted to say I understand how hard it can be to live up to their expectations, especially after they-”  “I don't need your pity, Routledge,” you snap and look at him. “You don't know anything about me. You don't have to pretend to care.”  “I was just trying to help,” he apologizes and gets up again. 

Your mind wanders back to the night, to the pain. It's scarily easy to revisit that memory. Seeing yourself standing over the table in the morgue, having to identify that, “yes, that's my dad,” because your mother had broken down as soon as the message had come through. You were keeping yourself together for her, for everyone around you who came with their condolences and expected a consolation prize for caring the bare minimum. You remember taking the ring from his cold, stiff finger. You remember having to pick out the casket, the suit, the food, where and when and how and-  You feel like your lungs are empty, like you had stopped breathing air, but pain and desperation instead. Tears are building in your eyes. You can't blink, can't let them run, can't let anyone see you cry, especially not these people. The only one who has gotten to see you cry ever, apart from your parents, is Rafe. And maybe you are aware that you can't leave him because he knows the part of you that you try so hard to keep hidden. Because he was the only one caring for you when everyone else was solely relying on you.  And now you are hurting him, in a way you never thought you would, but you can't help it, you're too far in it now. You need to tell him, needed two months ago, but you hadn't, because you were scared of breaking his heart. Because you know telling him might mean losing the one good and secure thing you had going for yourself. Maybe you never considered it love, because it doesn't look like the love from the movies and books you basically inhaled in your early teens. Maybe you do have a childish outlook on love after all, because whatever connects you and Rafe goes deeper than that. 

“You okay?” JJ asks, standing over you, and you muster a faint smile for him.  “I just really wanna go home now, I'm sorry,” you apologize for it, although you know you're not the only one at fault for it. You're soft for him, because he needs it, because you need it in a way. But it's so different from Rafe and you don't know if you can survive without either of them. If you could, you'd put them in a blender and get the perfect boyfriend out of it. But life isn't a fairy tale. “It's okay,” he smiles and kisses your forehead before turning to the steering wheel and starting the engine. 

As soon as you're back at the Château you get off the boat and basically run towards your car. If not for JJ, you wouldn't even think twice about ever coming back. But this was his second home, his happy place.  “Hey, y/n, wait a sec,” JJ calls after you and you stop to turn around.  “I don't care if they like me, J, but I'm not gonna be able to do this again. Not like this. I really want to, for you, but if they can't bring up the same amount of- They need to try too, all of them, and not when I accidentally tell them my whole life story so they can pity me. I'm not gonna do it that way,” you say softly and he nods.  “I understand. Will you text me that you got home safe? Please,” he whispers and you nod. There's a moment of silence, insecure and heavy, as if he doesn't know what to do, so you do the only thing you can think of to stop the awkward moment from prolonging. In a quick motion you lean up and kiss his cheek. 

As soon as you come home you text him a quick “am home” and turn back to wallowing in your sadness.  It takes Rafe another two hours to get back home and as soon as he walks in, you jump into his arms, trying to find the little security you knew you could always hold onto.  “Hey, baby, what's up? Huh? Missed me that much?” Rafe asks with a light chuckle while holding you up, with one arm around your waist and the other holding onto his bag.  “Missed you,” you mumble into him, not wanting to actually tell him why you are feeling down, but you know you need to. Soon. Very soon.

He puts down his bag and carries you into the kitchen, sitting you down on the island and taking your puffy face in his hands.  “What happened?” he asks softly, softer than you know him.  “I don't want you to be angry with me,” you whisper, and he prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue before nodding.  “I won't be, I promise.”  “I, uh…,” the words get stuck in your throat, and you feel the tears well up again.  “Whatever it is, you know I love you,” he says, and it makes your heart feel even heavier.  “I've been seeing someone else,” you whisper, and he takes a step back, laughing and running his hands through his hair. There is no mistake in how mad he is, because this was a new level of mad, one you haven't seen before.  “Who?” he barks and you flinch. “Who is it, y/n?”  “No, you'll hurt him. I won't let you hurt him,” you shake your head, and he steps closer again.  “Why should I give a fuck about how you feel right now? Huh?! For how long have you been cheating on me?” he screams into your face. “Rafe, please,” you beg softly, and he takes a step away again, and a second later his fist lands in a cabinet door.  “How long, y/n?” he yells.  “Four months,” you whisper and he laughs.  “You gotta be kidding me.”  “I didn't know- It's confusing and then today-” you stammer, and he interrupts you.  “You were with him today? That's why you're crying? And you expect me to not go and kill that guy instantly?”  “I love you,” you yell at him, and he stops, furrowing his brows and looking at you more confused than you have ever seen him. 

“What?”  “I think so, at least. It's very confusing,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.  “Is that supposed to be an apology? You tell me you've been fucking some asshole on the side and think it'll all be made okay by finally telling me that you love me after two years?” His anger is back, but he's still confused, and you don't know what to do about it. All you know is that you need to be truthful about it, as much as you can, as much as he lets you. “I know it doesn't make sense and I know it's not an apology. I don't mean it like that. But today, things were said by other people, not him, he was trying to help- I don't know what I feel,” you shake your head.  “None of that makes any sense, baby,” Rafe runs his hand over his face.  “I didn't think that what I felt for you was love because no one ever told me it could be like that. But I do. I love you and I made a horrible mistake, but I would have never known- I can't survive on just one. I need both of you to be happy,” you say, and he steps closer, harshly taking your face in his hand.  “Who!”  “JJ,” you whisper and his hand slips down to your throat, holding you tight enough to restrict your blood flow, making you dizzy.  “You let a dirty Pogue fuck you? And then you come back here and pretend like nothing happened?”  “I love you,” you are practically begging him to not hurt JJ, your own well-being has become secondary the moment you decided to tell Rafe about it all.  “Is that why you wanted to do all that new shit?” he laughs almost hysterically, squeezing a little tighter and your vision starts getting blurry.  “Please,” you choke out, and he lets go again.  “You know what the worst part is? That this started making more sense in the last few months, and now you're tellin’ me it's because you’re fucking Maybank on the side. That's fucked up, y/n,” Rafe shakes his head.  “I never got mad at you for cheating on me,” you remind him quietly, it's a low blow, but you know it's gonna do the trick. His escapades early on in your relationship, and even a few slip ups in the first year after your dad hadn't bothered you much anyway back then.  “No, but you never got mad at me for anything because you don't have a fucking heart. You were acting like a fucking robot until-,” he doesn't even finish the sentence, only shaking his head yet again.  “I don't understand why, Rafe. You have to believe me. And I tried not to. I did. For months before. And then it happened once, and I tried to stay away but then you- you hurt my feelings and I had no one else-” you stammer, and he glares at you.  “The best sex we ever had? Because you had just fucked him?”  “I know you. You're not happy with all I need. And everything you can give me- It's not enough, and I hate myself for it. I wish it was but it isn't. And I can't keep on trying to change you. I won't do that to you. It's not fair to either of us,” you whisper.  “You think you can have us both? Maybe we should call your little boy toy and ask him what he thinks, because apparently you value his fucking Pogue opinion more than me!” Rafe snaps and rips the phone from your back pocket.  “Rafe, please don't,” you cry, and he smirks, but it's neither playful nor sweet, it's simply vicious.  “Oh, I have a way worse idea, baby, and you won't say no because you love me, right?” he taunts, and you nod slowly, knowing whatever’s to happen next won't be the last punishment you receive for your crimes. 

Rafe throws you over his shoulder and carries you upstairs and into the bedroom. Throwing you on the bed as if you weigh nothing.  You know not to move when he's in a mood, he'll do it by himself or give you strict orders to follow. Doing anything on your own account will just make it worse for you.  “Take off that horrible dress,” he barks while walking into the closet to pick out a tie and get his special box for you. You do as you are told, and he comes over to you, pulling on your arms and tying your wrists together behind your back so you can't use your hands anymore.  Then he pulls on the strings of the tiny bikini you had on, having expected to go swimming before you had left for JJ’s. The flimsy piece comes undone and Rafe slaps your ass a single time, but it stings harsh enough for you to whine a little.  “The more you cry, the worse it'll get,” he threatens, and you try to swallow the pain as he sits and pulls you to lie over his lap, spanking you for half an eternity. And even when he's done and goes over to softly massaging your butt, it's still stinging, and you don't know how much more you can take if this was the start of it. 

“You think that was enough? Or do you deserve some more?” Rafe asks and you gulp before replying quietly.  “I was a very bad girl,” you say, just like he always wanted to hear. It had only happened two times before that he had decided to play these games in such an extreme way. The first time you had drunkenly flirted with some Touron and Rafe had decided it was the best way to teach you a lesson. That was a month into your relationship. The second time was a week before your dad had died, and he keeps telling you that he regrets doing it, but you know he doesn't. You had made fun of his family that night, just a little bit, but it had been enough to grant a punishment.  But neither of those come close to the pain you imagine he must be feeling right now. And you rather let him take his anger out on you than go and hurt JJ. That was the better option, surely.  “Yes, you were, baby. That's why you're gonna do whatever I say now. You know the rules. And if you cum I'll hurt you some more,” Rafe pulls you back up and you nod.  “Won't cum.”  “Good. Now lay down and let me fuck your throat,” he says, and you hesitate for a second but do it anyway. He's aware that you don't like it, not because it's not fun, but because he's simply too big for you to be able to breathe properly while doing it on his terms.  

Yet here you are, lying on the bed with your head hanging off the edge. But before he tells you to open up, he goes to his box, taking out a tiny device and smirking mischievously.  “You know what, we're doing it differently tonight,” Rafe pulls you up to sit. Then he goes to bend you over and for a moment you think he's just gonna fuck you, but instead he shoves the toy into you, filling both holes without any prep, and you cry out at the unexpected intrusion and the low vibrations of the toy.  “No. You're not gonna cum from that, and if there's anything on that when I pull it out, I'll make it hurt worse. Do you understand?” He warns and you nod.  “I understand.”  “Good. Kneel,” he orders and points at the rug in front of the bed and you follow diligently. 

When he tells you to open up, you do it, and when he tells you to moan around him, you do it, and when he tells you to look into the camera, you do it, albeit reluctantly.  Rafe doesn't care that you're close to choking on his cock, or that you can't stop the tears from streaming down your cheek. He doesn't care that your jaw will hurt for the two following days. He doesn't care because he knows it's still not enough punishment, and you know he's right.  Once he's happy with his little video, he tells you to get up and lie down again, and once you do, he pulls you towards the edge of the bed again and goes back to fucking your throat. What you can't see, because his balls are in your face, is that he's gone back to filming you, especially the part where his dick goes so far down your throat that it's visible on your neck.  Somehow you managed to blend out the vibrations in your pussy and ass, the low intensity was barely doing anything to you but edge you on more and more. 

“You're a real slut, aren't you, baby,” he huffs after pulling out and manhandling you to be face down before him. Your legs are propped up and spread wide as he harshly pulls the toy out, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your throat.  “Tell me you love me again, and I might stop,” he rasps, and you are about to say it, but just as you open your mouth to speak, he thrusts into you. An obscenely loud moan is all you can conjure before he starts ramming into you.  “Tell me how much you love me!”  “Love you, Rafe. Love you and your cock so much,” you cry out and a second later your phone lands on the bed right next to your head.  “Look who called to check up on you, baby. Tell him how much you love when I take what's mine!” Rafe demands and your eyes fill with tears as you see the screen.  “What the fuck is this?” JJ asks and you sob.  “Rafe, no,” you cry.  “You want him so bad, he has to know what it means to share you. Because I'm not letting you go, baby,” Rafe growls, fucking you harder and your tears keep on streaming.  “Princess, it's okay. Focus,” JJ tells you through the phone, and you don't understand why he didn't hang up immediately.  “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Rafe, please,” you beg, but he won't stop, not until he's got what he wants.  “Tell him how much you love me,” Rafe barks, pulling on your hair and yanking you towards him. “You don't get to make any demands tonight, baby. You know what you did to me!”  He pushes you back down, and you land face first in the duvet, sobbing uncontrollably. “I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry,” you are close to hyperventilating. Your body is sore and tired, but he won't stop the attack on your poor pussy.  “You hear that Maybank, she loves me!” Rafe says, jealousy drenching his voice, and picks up the phone. “But I still don't think she deserves to cum. Do you?”  “You're sick, Rafe,” JJ hisses through the phone, but your mind is starting to go blank, the noise of his skin slapping against your own, and the quenching sound of your pussy is filling your ears.  “No, she's sick. One dick isn't enough for the little bitch. Nah, she needs two fillings to feel better about herself,” Rafe laughs, and you're so far gone that you can barely hear him anymore.  “Princess, focus on me. Come on, pretty girl,” JJ pleads and you nod absentmindedly.  “Shit, stop,” Rafe moans, but you can't. JJ's soft, loving words of encouragement have triggered your release, and you really don't have any control over it.  You moan so loud you think the whole island might hear, but you don't care, actually. And when you push your ass back into Rafe he loses his game and cums so hard that he collapses onto you almost instantly. 

Panting you lie there, incapable of saying a single word, but at least JJ had disconnected the call.  “I get it now,” Rafe pants and pulls you into him, hugging you and kissing the top of your head. “Maybe I can learn to live with it.”  “Love you,” is all you manage to say before your exhaustion takes over, and you fall into a deep dreamless slumber. 

You don't even feel like getting up the next morning, but you do it anyway. Pulling on one of Rafe's shirts to feel a tiny bit of familiar comfort you prod downstairs after having cleaned up the tiniest bit.  “Good morning,” Rafe says as soon as you step into the kitchen.  “Morning,” you walk past him, kissing his cheek just like any normal day. But unlike any normal day, Rafe isn't dressed yet, he's only got his shorts on and something tells you he had planned it.  “I don't think you should get to wear my shirts right now. I'm still mad at you, remember?” he nods at you, and you sigh, wanting to turn back and go change, but his hand shoots out to hold you back. “Oh, no, no. You're gonna take it off here. And you're gonna eat without it on.”  “But I don't have anything else on,” you complain quietly and he shrugs.  “Not my problem.”  You pull the shirt over your head and hand it to him. “Anything else?”  “Actually, yeah,” Rafe gives you a lopsided grin before sitting you up on the island. 

It stings when he pushes into you, stretching you to your limit without any prep. But it's a punishment, you shouldn't enjoy it anyway.  His grunts and curses and intensely hard thrusts make you whimper, but at least he doesn't tell you off about it this time. Instead, he encourages you, wanting to see the tears and as soon as they start running his thrusts grow sloppier.  “I brought waffles as a peace offering,” you hear JJ's voice and footsteps that are coming closer. Your head spins around, and you stare at him across the room. The shock on his face tells you that he had just as much been blindsided by this as you, and it takes him another moment to drag his eyes away from the scene. But Rafe just laughs and keeps fucking you.  “Look at him, he can't even look at you while I fuck you. How the fuck is that supposed to work, baby?”  “As if you'd like to see it the other way round,” JJ snaps back at him, his back still turned to you. But the pain is too much, you can't take it anymore.  “J, please,” it's a mere whisper that leaves you, but he walks over to you anyway, avoiding looking at Rafe.  “It's all right, I'm here,” JJ whispers to you while caressing your hair, and you look up at him, into his pretty blue eyes.  “Make her cum,” Rafe demands and JJ rolls his eyes.  “You know, if you were better at it, she would've never fucked me in the first place,” JJ glares at him, but you pull on his collar, kissing him and moaning into his mouth while Rafe keeps fucking you.  “You're doing so great, princess. Such a good girl,” JJ praises you and your stomach starts filling with tiny butterflies.  “More,” you moan and JJ looks up at Rafe. “Touch her,” he orders and for some reason Rafe does what he says and starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit.  “Oh God!” you scream, so close to your release that you feel like bursting. Your back lifts off the cold marble and your lips tremble. “That's it. Look at me baby,” JJ whispers and when your eyes meet his you feel afloat, just like the first time. “Let go,” he hushes, and your eyes roll back. You scream and feel how hard it is for Rafe to keep fucking you, but he tries anyway until he can't hold back anymore and fills you up with his hot seed.  “That was better than last night,” Rafe pants while tucking himself away and JJ comes around to pull you up and carry you upstairs. 

“Is this what you want?” JJ asks quietly after sitting you down on the toilet. Your voice is strained, but you only manage to nod a yes.  “We'll have to put down some ground rules, because I really don't wanna be in a situation where I find out what Rafe looks like when he finishes. That was way too close already,” JJ says while letting in a bath for you.  “I'm sorry,” you rasp, but he shakes his head.  “Don't apologize. If I hadn't told you to come by yesterday, this wouldn't be happening. And you should save your voice,” he smiles. 

The hot water helps with the pain, but leaning back into JJ and being with him without having to think about what might happen if someone finds out is freeing. It's nice and good and feels a thousand times better than before.  “I don't care if they get it or not. I know you can't help it,” he whispers to you, softly massaging your sore thighs under the water. “Stupid hearts,” he sighs.  “You okay?” Rafe asks, standing in the door, and you turn to look at him and nod. “Good. I have to go to work,” he says and takes a few steps over to kiss you softly. “Love you,” he whispers and turns around to leave without waiting for you to say it back. 

The following days are filled with planning and talking and fighting over phrasings, but in the end they manage to come to a conclusion that they can both live with. The easiest one at that. You get to choose, anything and everything when it comes to what happens between the three of you, in this weird new relationship you found yourself in. 

Most nights you find yourself sleeping in JJ's bed instead of your own, but Rafe doesn't mind it much, never having been much of a cuddler himself. But when it gets to your darkest moments, you don't trust yourself enough to talk to JJ, maybe it's stupid, but somehow you can't change it.  Yet you also don't think you'll ever regret your decision, especially when you're waking up to JJ plastering you with kisses before slowly fucking you awake. Or when he goes to eat you out while a boring movie is playing.  Or when Rafe comes home frustrated from a meeting and uses you in any way you let him, and sometimes he even lets JJ join and not just sit there and please you mentally. 

Your new favorite thing has to be sucking off JJ while Rafe is plowing into you.  With every deep thrust of Rafe's hard cock into your clenching core, you moan louder around JJ, and it's even harder for him to not cum as soon as he sees your puffy lips wrapped around his dick. And you love to swirl your tongue and play with his balls a little, slapping your lips and cheeks with his pretty cock until he begs for you to suck him dry. 

The days in between when you get time to recover properly are filled with surf lessons from JJ or going shopping with Rafe.  It's passed the point where only the three of you and the people close to you know about the arrangement. Especially parties start to be a boiling pot for dramatics. 

You're at the Boneyard, playing stupid drinking games with JJ, having fun the way teenagers are supposed to be.  You're aware that the people around you talk, but you couldn't care less because you're on cloud nine, too happy to let anybody ruin it. But JJ is the complete opposite. The more people he hears, the more agitated he gets.  “What’ya say?” he snaps at some guy, pushing him back.  “Chill bro,” the boy tries to laugh it off.  “No, repeat what you said, asshole,” JJ pushes.  “Only the biggest of sluts need-” He doesn't get to finish the repetition of his words when JJ's fist lands in his face. You yell for him to stop, but it's like he's in a trance. It takes both John B and Pope, who storm over from the other side of the party, to pull JJ off the guy.  “What the fuck, bro,” John B shoves JJ backwards but J just laughs.  “He deserved it.”  “Why ‘cause he said something mean?” Pope snaps, and you cross your arms in front of your chest.  “You wouldn't get it, Pope,” JJ shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. “Y'all just don't get it.”  “We don't, because it doesn't make sense,” Pope counters and you scoff.  “Just because you don't understand something, doesn't mean it's shit or that we're horrible people for it.”  “I didn't say that,” he shakes his head, but you're done with them, you have been for a long time.  “C’mon, J,” you say and start walking towards where you had parked your car. 

At home, you start by cleaning him up, kissing him all over in the shower until he pins you against the tiles. His kisses are forceful, and he's groping at your ass and thighs. Picking you up and fucking up into you while you moan and gasp. He doesn't give you time to cum when he finishes and puts you down on your feet.  This is different from what you know of him, but it intrigues you too. JJ turns you around and snakes his arm around your thigh, pushing two fingers into your sore cunt to stop you from spilling out.  “I know I should've asked, but it's gonna be great. I promise,” he whispers into your ear before leading you into the bedroom and making you lie down.

JJ is standing in front of you, your legs pressed to your chest, and he’s holding onto your hips as he fucks you. It's not loving and soft like any time before. It's harsh and fast, and you like it too much. You like the sound of his claves crashing into your ass, the way his balls slap against your skin. The wet noises your pussy makes when he drags his cock out of you just to slam right back in. And the way your tits jiggle with the movement. Your hands are clawing at the sheets when JJ starts playing with your clit, making you cum in a matter of seconds. You know you'll be there for hours when he shoots his cum into you and just keeps going. You haven't quite figured out which way you like it better; with JJ’s incredibly small refractory period, or Rafe's stamina to hold out for just how long he wants to. 

“Who's gonna clean that up?” you hear Rafe ask and your head spins around to look at him. Your mind is blurry with pleasure, your mouth agape and JJ doesn't stop and rips another orgasm from you. Rafe has never actually watched him fuck you, but something about this is making him want to stay and watch.  Your back arches up again, and JJ grunts and curses, filling you up for the fifth time that night, and you watch Rafe's face contort in a light confusion.  “You just keep going? Maybe you should give her some time, dude,” Rafe says, and you shake your head at him.  “She'll have time once I'm done,” JJ growls, and it sends shivers down your spine, making you roll your eyes back. “Isn't that right, baby?”  “Yes, yes, yes-” you scream each time his cock pushes against your cervix as if he wants to pass through it. “Want your cum, JJ, all of it,” you babble, maybe you like giving Rafe a show too.  “Good girl,” JJ moans and cums another time, making you clench around him with ease. 

“You see that,” JJ smirks down at you, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to see the tip of his dick poking against your stomach. “That's it, princess,” he praises you before pushing down on your stomach, and you fall back, moaning, incapable of holding yourself up with the intense pleasure he's giving you.  “Give me my phone,” JJ orders and for a moment you have forgotten that Rafe is still there, still watching. He hands JJ his phone and J points the lense right at where you two are connected.  His free hand is back to rubbing torturously harsh circles on your clit, making you mewl and cry out.  “Cum for me, princess. Make me proud, baby,” JJ hums, and you let go of the tension. Screaming his name and squeezing his cock so hard that he cums almost instantly, pushing in farther and holding himself there until he's all done.  And once he's pulled out, he goes down on his knees before you, pointing the camera right at your pussy, clenching around nothing and pushing all his cum out of you and letting it drip down onto the rug. 

“What she do?” Rafe asks just as JJ comes back from the bathroom, a wet washcloth in his hand.  “Nothing,” JJ mutters while cleaning you up, but you can't move, not yet. Your legs feel like they are made of rubber and your mind is empty, only having enough capacity to listen to their words.  “Why'd you do this then?” Rafe points at your utterly fucked out state.  “Do I ask you why you do what you do? No. Just let it go,” JJ snaps at him and leaves for his room.  “You could at least change the fucking sheets!” Rafe yells after him, but it's no use. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Rafe whispers and picks you up, holding you in his arms while you regain your strength.  “Frustrated,” you mumble and look at him with your glossy eyes.  “Maybank? Why?”  “Fight- Asshole-” you stammer, and he carries you out of the room and towards JJ’s.  “What did you do?” Rafe barks at JJ, your body still tightly wrapped around him.  “None of your fucking business,” JJ hisses.  “It fucking is when it ends with her losing all bodily capabilities, you ass,” Rafe yells, and you try to cover your ears, but it doesn't really help.  “He called her a whore, and he had to pay for it. I don't care what they say, but they don't get to insult her,” JJ explains harshly, and you start to slowly feel your toes again.  “Doesn't explain why you nearly fucked her into subdrop,” Rafe shakes his head and caresses your back. “You can't just do shit like that, and you know it.”  “She said she was okay with it.”  “She's a fucking people pleaser, asshole,” Rafe snaps, and you lift your head from his shoulder.  “Please stop,” you whisper, and he wipes a tear from your cheek.  “It's okay, baby,” Rafe whispers to you before turning back to JJ. “Don't let your fucking anger out on her without making sure she's alright.” “Noted,” JJ says, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes.  “Good, because you gotta aftercare the shit out of her now. I'm not cleaning up your messes, Maybank,” Rafe tells him and basically hands you to him as if you were nothing more than a puppet. 

“I'm sorry, love,” JJ whispers, placing you in the hot water and running his hand through his hair.  “S’okay,” you mumble and look up at him with a droopy smile.  “I'm gonna clean up, and then I'll be right with you, all right?” He kisses you gently and leaves again.  You think back to it, the moment he snapped. He looked like a different person, more like his dad in a way, and although you never even saw Luke Maybank up close, you know it’s true. You know the rumors are true. He didn't tell you, but in your heart you know it.  If his friends hadn't come, he wouldn't have stopped. If they hadn't showed up, the other guy would be dead. If it hadn't been for you, none of it would've happened.  It’s a rather quick spiral that you go down, and you can't stop yourself from crying, not even when JJ comes back and looks at you rather confused.  “Hey. Hey, pretty girl, don't cry. It's okay. You're okay. I'm here,” he tells you and pulls your head to his chest. But it doesn't help. You can't stop feeling like it was all your fault, all the pain in your life is your fault.  “Rafe!” JJ shouts, and it only takes a minute for him to run in.  “What you do now?”  “Nothing, I came back, and she's crying, and she won't stop,” JJ defends himself.  “Go. You seriously have no clue,” Rafe shakes his head and takes JJ's spot next to you. 

“What's wrong, baby,” Rafe whispers to you, holding your face in his big hands.  “It's my fault. I killed him. It's my fault,” you sob and he shakes his head.  “No, it's not. You know it's not,” Rafe assures you, but you're too far gone for it to work. “I did it. I killed him,” you cry and he clenches his jaw.  “Y/n, you didn't drive that car, it's not your fault. Please, listen to me,” Rafe pleads, but you shake your head, not wanting to believe him.  “Hey, hey, look at me,” he orders, and you turn your eyes back on him. “Three things you feel, name them.” “Pain. Tired. Sad,” you answer slowly.  “Four things you can touch.”  “Water, you, me, bathtub,” you reply a little faster and he nods.  “Five things you see,” Rafe whispers, and you look around in front of you. “Towel, shower, robe, painting-” your eyes get stuck on the blonde boy that is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “JJ.”  Rafe snaps around to look at him. “I told you to leave!”  “What's wrong with her?” JJ asks quietly, and your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach.  “Leave!” Rafe yells, and it takes a moment for JJ to realize that it will have consequences if he doesn't. But Rafe had already turned back around to you, stroking your hair. “We should get you to bed, baby.”  He dries you up and puts you in a shirt of his to sleep in, before laying you down in your bed and turning off the lights. 

When you wake up, you're alone, and you decide to not get ready and just go downstairs the way you are. Before you can meet the boys in the kitchen you overhear them talking and stop in your tracks.  “That doesn't make sense,” JJ says.  “No shit. But that's just how it's been ever since. Your stupid fight triggered something, and the day is coming up in a week- It's a fucking minefield this time of year,” Rafe sighs.  “So we distract her?” JJ asks and Rafe scoffs.  “That's just delaying it. No, you just gotta stay with her and make sure she won't spiral. And when she does you have to keep telling her that it's not her fault, and pull her out of it. The naming thing always works,” Rafe replies.  “And what if it doesn't?”  “I don't know.” 

You turn the corner and pretend like you had just come down the stairs, walking straight to the coffee machine.  “How did you sleep?” Rafe asks with a smile.  “Alone,” you say and take your mug, nearly burning your tongue as you take a sip.  “I'm sorry, y/n, for yesterday and all,” JJ apologizes, but you just shrug.  “Shit happens.” Pretending to not care was easy, too easy.  “I’m gonna be at the office all day. You think you're gonna be all right?” Rafe asks and you nod.  “I don't know why we shouldn't be.” 

You spend your day training, not having done so in too long for your own liking. The water calms your mind and gives you enough time to reflect on your life choices.  You know Rafe is right. You know that it's not your fault. But the guilt you feel around it doesn't just vanish because of it. 

Later that day Rafe texts you that you're having dinner at the country club with his dad, meaning JJ isn't allowed to come.  “I'll just enjoy the view right now,” JJ smiles and watches you get dressed. The underwear set is new, and you can tell by the way he's looking at you that he wants nothing more than to take it off again.  “If it was my call,” you start, but he interjects.  “I know, but it isn't. Besides, I don't really give a shit about family dinners and all that fancy bullshit.”  “Sarah will be there, and John B,” you remind him, but he shrugs.  “So what?” “Have you talked to them at all in the last few weeks?” you ask and JJ rubs over the light stubble on his chin.  “They didn't reach out either.”  “They are your family though. That's what you told me,” you whisper. “I have a new family now. I have you,” JJ smiles and takes your dress from the clothing hanger.  “That's not enough, and you know it,” you say while stepping into the dress and letting him zip it up.  “It's enough for you,” he says, and you sigh, looking at him through the mirror in your closet. “But I'm a heartless bitch with more money than anyone else on this island. I don't need anything more, and if I did, I could just buy it.” Your fingers fumble with the necklace until JJ takes it from you and places it around your neck.  “I know there's a heart in there,” JJ says while holding you from behind, his right hand resting on top of your chest.  “Horrible. We should go get a knife and cut it out,” you whisper with a smile and he kisses your shoulder.  “You'd kill me if I said what I was thinking right now,” he mumbles against your skin and your heart stops for a moment, scared that he would say the dreaded words that you knew would definitely complicate your life even more. “Then you really shouldn't say it.”  “I should, but I won't,” he looks back up, leaning his head against yours, smiling. 

The dinner goes rather smoothly, although Sarah still gives you a side eye and once the Camerons are gone, John B asks how JJ is, but nothing more.  “Boring as ever,” you complain on the drive home.  “Glad he didn't ask when we're getting married,” Rafe exhales a laugh.  “Hmmm, let me think,” you tap your finger against your chin in a joking manner. “We can fuck them all over and just fly to Vegas right now.”  “Wouldn't be the worst idea we ever had,” he laughs and takes your hand up to kiss it just as he turns into your driveway.  “My mom expects a huge white wedding. At least a hundred guests,” you sigh while getting out of the car.  “We should start planning then,” Rafe grins at you, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“What happens to that one, once we get married?” Rafe asks you, pointing at JJ who is standing in the kitchen with nothing more than his boxers on.  “They should make this harem thing legal,” JJ says and shugs the rest of his drink.  “A harem is one guy with many women, dumbass,” you laugh.  “The opposite of that then,” JJ shrugs.  “Sure,” Rafe rolls his eyes at him and JJ flips him off.  “Sometimes I think you guys forget who's the boss around here,” you say and zip your dress open, letting it fall to the ground and walking upstairs. “First one up gets to start,” you call out and hear them arguing already. 

“Just because you're first, doesn't mean you know what you're doing,” JJ complains.  “Fine, you start then, genius,” Rafe scoffs, and you furrow your brows, it was unusual for Rafe to give in and let JJ do anything to you unless you specifically asked for it.  “What's the plan here, boys?” you ask with an anticipating smile on your lips.  JJ pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply and pushing you against the bed. The backs of your knees hit the wood and you fall down.  “Just relax, gorgeous,” he muses and drops down on his knees before you, taking off your heels and letting his hands run up to your thighs. You sigh into it, the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin and the kisses he leaves on the inside of your thighs before unclasping the lace body right on top of your pussy.  JJ rolls the fabric up to reveal your stomach, kissing and nipping at your skin; biting your hip and making you jump in surprise. He loves to tease you, and you'd never tell him to stop, ever.  He comes up to kiss you, pushing the lace up even farther and helping you take it off completely. Kissing your neck and leaving marks you hear him chuckle, then his lips meet your ear, and he whispers, “you think he's taking any notes?”  Your eyes dart over to Rafe who has pulled a chair over and is watching you carefully. “Maybe,” you reply.  JJ hums, picking up his head to smile at you. “Hopefully.” 

JJ kisses down your neck, following along your collarbone and to your tits. He sucks on your nipple, grazing over it with his teeth before he pulls on it and your back arches up.  “Would be neglectful to not give you the same attention,” JJ says to your other tit, and you would tell him off if he wasn't squeezing your sensitive nipple right in that second. His hand is playing with your sore tit while his mouth attacks the other. It's overwhelming and perfect, and you don't see any reason to hold back. Your moans and gasps fill the room, and they continue on even once he has let off your boobs and moved downward again. He sucks hickeys into the soft skin of your thighs, making you mewl and squirm.  “Tell me what you want me to do to you, princess,” JJ demands, and you grasp into his hair to push his face into your clothed cunt. He blows a little against your wet slip, and you instinctively want to close your legs, but he holds them in place.  “You should let me take this pretty thing off first,” JJ smirks and you lift your hips. The tiny slip is off faster than you can say your own name. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby,” JJ moans after licking over your wet pussy, his tongue dipping between your folds and torturing your clit a little.  “Hold on, princess,” JJ smirks up at you and your hand finds his hair, tugging on the fine strands as he plunges his tongue into your pussy. His nose presses against your clit, and with every stroke of his tongue, he edges you closer.  “More, JJ, please,” you moan, and he starts to suck on your clit while pushing his fingers into you. Curling them and sucking harsher, almost biting down on your clit, and you can't help but grind your hips against him. When his fingers come up to your face, and you lick them off, you already feel like you're about to explode.  “Cum on my tongue, baby,” JJ hums into you, licking long strides up your pussy before pressing his tongue flat against your entrance and rubbing his nose on your clit.  You keep rolling your hips and moaning his name as you come undone for him. His new technique isn't as good as the old one, but you're not one to complain about it. JJ gets up and wipes his face on a small towel that Rafe hands him, but you can't stop staring at the wet spot in his boxers.  “Again?” you ask JJ with a smile and he shrugs.  “Can't help it. You taste too good, baby.” 

You hold your hand out for Rafe after sitting up, and he takes and intertwines your fingers. He's still in his suit pants and shirt, looking down at you with a lustrous smile.  “You look really hot in this,” you whisper and nod, but your hands wander to the buttons, slowly opening the shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. His abs look so rideable to you, but you are still unsure if he'd let you once you ask.  “You're way hotter, baby. Next time I get to take off the fancy shit,” Rafe growls, his hand  cupping your tit, brushing his thumb over your tit, but his eyes shift towards JJ. “You understand?”  But JJ just holds his hands up in defense and sits down on the chair.  “Take the pants off, babe,” you pout at Rafe, and he slowly opens his belt, pulling it out and dropping it to the side. It was like he was doing a strip show for you, and you loved every second of it.  Rafe pushes you to lie down, your hands pinned over your head as he kisses you aggressively. His free hand gropes at your tit, and you lift your hips to press your wet cunt against his hard cock.  “Always so needy,” Rafe mocks you before going down on his knees between your legs.  He's aggressive and fast, sucking on your clit with so much pressure building that you are scared he's gonna rip it off. But your screams just turn him on even more. His tongue thrusts into you with a harsh pace, and you try to get away from him, but he's holding you in place.  “Curl it,” JJ says and Rafe listens, curling his tongue up and ripping an orgasm out of you in a matter of seconds. 

“J,” you pant and Rafe wants to get up, but you close your thighs around his head. “No, you stay. J, come here,” you tap the bed right next to your head. They do as you say, and while Rafe is eating you out another time, JJ is fucking your throat and praising you.  Before JJ can cum you pull him from your throat and pump his cock slower, trying to pace him just a bit. But when you look at the two boys, so helpless when it comes to your wants and needs, you can't help yourself.  With a quick move you have J’s dick back in your warm and wet mouth, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. Your hand is massaging his balls, and he throws his head back and fills your mouth with his salty cum. It feels so good, you cum instantly, creaming all over Rafe's pretty face.  “Definitely doing this again,” you sigh, falling flat into the bed and not planning on getting up anytime soon. 

The engagement dinner is jarring and the only reason you can get through it is, because Rafe keeps reminding you that it'll be over soon, his hand resting on your thigh the whole night. 

But the engagement party, the weekend after is fun, is actually fun.  You invited everyone you knew, including JJ's friends and Barry, who you hadn't talked to in ages. You spend the first half of the night tightly wrapped in Rafe's arm, smiling and laughing at some things his friends say.  Sitting on the couch on Rafe's lap you let your eyes wander, and they get stuck on JJ who is visibly uncomfortable while nipping on his beer.  “Maybe a blowjob will lighten his mood,” you whisper to Rafe, but he shakes his head.  “No, but honesty might.”  “What do you mean?” you ask and look at your, now, fiancée.  “I mean, he's been miserable and fighting it ever since we brought up that this would be happening. Not like you have much of a choice anyway,” Rafe shrugs lightly and runs his hand over your back.  “How do you know he's miserable?” you wonder, eyeing your boyfriend across the room.  “Because I use my eyes, and to be fair, I'd be pouting too if you wanted to marry him instead of me.”  “And what am I supposed to tell him? He knows I don't have a choice if I wanna keep the company,” you sigh.  “The truth. That you love him,” Rafe whispers and kisses your cheek.  “You can't know that,” you shake your head and he laughs.  “I see the way you two look at each other. I love you so much baby, but you've never looked at me like that.” “That doesn't mean anything,” you fight his words, not wanting him to be right about it.  “I mean, you can try it with the blowjob, but I think the truth would be better,” Rafe smiles and slaps your ass, signaling you to get up. 

You're dragging your feet walking over to JJ. “Look at that, a Pogue in a Kook mansion,” you tease with a smile.  “Hey,” he mumbles without looking at you.  “You okay?” you whisper and he nods, avoiding your eyes.  “Why shouldn't I be?” “Because you've been avoiding me all day.” You reach out your hand to hold onto his and as soon as your delicate fingers close around his, he stares at you. Pain filled blue eyes and a merely unnoticeable tremble on his lip.  “Do I have to be happy about it? You want me to be happy about the fact that you're leaving me?” he hisses at you, but you feel like a weight is lifted off you, a soft smile tugging at your lips.  “Come on, I need to tell you something,” you whisper and lead him upstairs to your bedroom, unlocking the door and stepping inside. 

“Why did you bring me here?” JJ asks, his hand is holding onto the bottle for dear life. “Sit with me,” you say and place yourself at the edge of the bed. He follows reluctantly, yet again avoiding to even look at you.  “JJ, I'm not leaving you,” you whisper and he scoffs. “Sure you aren't.” “I'm serious, J. Just because I have to marry Rafe, doesn't mean anything changes between us.”  “Sure it won't, until you want to have kids, and then it's no longer appropriate,” he mutters, and you don't know how to convince him. Maybe Rafe was right with his assumption about him, about you. But the thought of it is debilitating.  “When I have kids they will have my name, JJ. Do you not want kids?” you ask and he sighs.  “I don't just want any kids, y/n, I want your kids,” he whispers and turns to look at you.  “Why would you think I'll leave you then?”  “Because you are marrying Rafe. Starting a family with Rafe. Just like the plan was. I'm nowhere close to being part of that picture,” he talks himself down, and you really have no more words left inside you. 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him. Your heart is racing while looking at him and your throat feels dry, but you know you have to do it. And you know Rafe is right, you've known it ever since you let JJ compromise your thoughts from the very first time.  “I love you, JJ,” you whisper, and his eyes go wide.  “You sure?” he asks and as soon as you nod he pins you down onto the bed and starts kissing you. Your giggles and the soft attempts to get away from him are making it even better, until he has you pinned right where he wants you, and you are panting, looking up at him.  “You're so beautiful, y/n,” JJ whispers, diving down to kiss you, sloppy and with a smile on both your lips.  “We should go back down,” you whisper and he shakes his head.  “Not yet.” “They might be looking for us and I don't-”  You don't get to finish your sentence when his lips find yours again. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and entangles his tongue with yours until you moan into him.  “I love you, y/n,” JJ whispers, and nuzzles his face into your neck. 

And before you can think twice about it, your little make out session has turned into the best sex you've ever had with him. JJ is sitting under you as you softly roll your hips. He's buried so deep into you that every miniscule move is sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His hands are rubbing over your hips and ass in a perpetual motion, while yours play with his hair.  You think you could stay like this forever, just you and him in perfect synchrony; in love.  And the only time his eyes leave yours is when he dips his head to suck on your tits, or kiss your neck.  When he turns you around to lie down and thrusts into you, it's like he's fucking you for the first time. A plethora of praises and a dozen more “I love you’s” fall from his lips while all you can do is moan and babble incoherently about how much you love him too. 

When you find your way back downstairs, after what felt like an eternity, his arms are wrapped around you. JJ is himself again, flirty and always joking, and so incredibly more touchy than before.  “I see you made up,” Rafe smiles and holds his hand out, for you to take your seat back on his lap.  “Excuse me, you had her all night,” JJ complains and pulls you away, just to sit down right next to Rafe and let you kiss him like you had wanted to.  “No more trouble in paradise?” Rafe whispers to you and you shake your head.  “I love my boys,” you sigh.  “And I thought you went with the blowjob,” Rafe teases you and you roll your eyes.  “I could've gotten a blowjob?” JJ gasps quietly and softly pinches your thigh.  “You get those all the time, dumbass,” you giggle, and he smiles at you, completely enamored by your whole being.  “To think I get to be this lucky just because I couldn't stop staring at your tits, princess,” JJ whispers.  “Pretty nice tits,” Rafe agrees with a mumble.  “Pretty nice dicks,” you giggle and cuddle into JJ, bathing in the newfound closeness and in your mind you're already planning it all out; the kids, the dog, and the two loves of your life. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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[mysteria157]

Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.

Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.

Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

| Twitter | Ao3 | Masterlist | Moment One | Moment Three...Eventually

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“And what am I, a goat?”

He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.

“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”

“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”

You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.

“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.

Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.

“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.

“I-I’m worried.”

“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”

That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”

“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.

“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.

“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:

“Is that up to code?”

“How long has that been sealed?”

“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”

Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.

When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.

Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.

Kento? Not so much.

“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.

“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.

He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.

Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.

But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.

You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.

One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.

The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come. 

“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”

He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.

You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her. 

Kento holds his breath.

“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”

They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….

And screams.

His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.

He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.

“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.

By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.

“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”

He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you? 

That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.

So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.

Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.

You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”

“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?” 

You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”

“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.

“You made me pancakes this morning.”

“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”

“We made out two hours ago?”

“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.

“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”

“Exactly.”

You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams. 

“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.

“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.

“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.

Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.

“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”

Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”

You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.

His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.

“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—”

“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.

You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”

“Quickly.”

He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.

“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”

The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.

After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.

That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.

When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can. 

“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.

He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.

As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.

Thanks for reading!

[fraugwinska]

This is a prologue to 'Game Night' (about 80 years before) enjoy! TW: murder, gore, mentions of war, mentions of SA Minors DNI!

Getting called into you Boss's office was bad. But getting called into you boss's Boss office was even worse.

When Archie staggered over to you, almost tripping over his storck legs, he looked almost panicked. "I don't know what you did, but Zestial wants to talk to you. What the fuck did you do?!"

You didn't react. You kept on typing the end of the article you were currently writing, ignoring the worried stare from the other employees that were working on the same floor. Zestial was one of the overlords in hell and the owner of the newspaper agency you were working at, an extremely tall, thin and ancient demon that exuded a machiavellian charm, enticing yet dangerous. You had no idea why he would want to talk to you. You didn't remember doing anything wrong, or at least, nothing worth that would him getting personally involved.

When you finished the last sentence, you stood up and walked past Archie, who was still waiting nervously for an answer, his gaze fixated on you, a mixture of curiosity and horror on his face.

"Hey, aren't you even a little bit worried?", he called after you. You shrugged, and smiled.

"And what good will that do? If I'm in trouble, I can't change it now, can I?"

You walked through the hallway and knocked at the big, dark mahogany door. A deep, sonoric voice called out to you, and you opened the door. Zestial was sitting at his desk, his slender fingers intertwined on the tabletop, next to a steaming cup of tea.

"Ah, my dear. I wast awaiting thee. Cometh in and sitteth down."

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Zestial nodded, and smiled, gesturing at the chair in front of him.

"Ah, yes. Thy work has been quite outstanding for a while, mine lief. Thou hast impressed me greatly. Therefore, I have an offer."

Your smile widened, a little out of nervousness, but more out of curiosity. A job offer was the last thing you had expected from this meeting, based on Archibald's behavior and the fearsome looks of your coworkers. Zestial pushed the delicate cup in your direction.

"Drink, it'st not poisoned. It'st my own recipe."

"Thank you, sir."

You took the cup, careful not to spill the hot liquid, and sipped at it. The tea tasted unusual but delightful, earthy and tart and a little bitter. You couldn't quite identify the ingredients, but they had to be rare and expensive.

"A lovely blend, thank you."

"Thou art most welcome. So, my offer: One of mine aquaintances, Miss Rosie in Cannibal Town, hosts a party this evening. Sadly i wilt not beest able to attend... So i'd like for thee to go in mine stead."

Your eyebrows shot up. Not a job offer. This was a surprise, indeed. You had heard of Rosie and her own peculiar district. She was an overlord too, but in contrast to her peers she didn't show any desire to expand her territory, focusing instead on improving Cannibal Town as a community.

"I would be honored, Sir. What's the occasion for the party, if I may ask?"

"Ah, no occasion, really. Miss Rosie is just the kind to host parties whenever the fancy takes her. She'st a very charming woman, I am certain thou wilt enjoy thyself."

Zestial stood up and walked over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder and smiling down at you, a genuine smile, that even reached his four green eyes. You smiled back, and set down the cup. It was apparent that your work somehow got you in good grace with Zestial, and you would've been a fool not to seize the day.

"Thank you very much for the opportunity, sir. I shall be sure to make the best of the occasion."

***

Stepping out of the taxi, you made sure not to step on the hem of your ankle-length red dress, clutching the small purse with your invitation and essentials in one hand and a gift for the hostess in the other, and stepped onto the pavement. All the windows of Rosie's emporium were lit, creating a warm atmosphere and luring guests into the center of the colony with a glowing, eery yellow vibrance. There was music in the air, and a sense of unusual merriness as guests talked and laughed, holding colorful drinks and glasses in their hands.

You made your way through the crowd towards the towering demoness, who was greeting oncoming guests left and right.

"Miss Rosie, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The woman turned, her lips pursed as her pitch-black eyes focused on the source of the sound, on you. Your smile didn't waver.

"Pleasure is all mine, sweetie. You're... Zestial's little newcomer, aren't you?"

You nodded with a grin that matched hers. "Indeed, Miss Rosie, that's me. It's an honor to be invited." You handed her your gift - an embellished, silver cookie tin with long, golden filled cookies inside. "I hope you don't mind homemade treats? I made them myself - they're called langue de chat."

"Cat's tongue. How fitting... ", she giggled, peeking inside. "Thank you my darling one, I'll be sure to hide them from all the hungry mouths here - wouldn't want to waste them, wouldn't we? Now please, hop right in, mingle a little and have some fun tonight. No work! And enjoy my little buffet, you'll surely find something to suit your diet."

Relieved from your official obligation, you snatched a glass of rose colored champagne as you decided to wander a bit without being seen and made yourself invisible. It was the newest of your powers you developed, and a most useful one for looking around and observing, very interested in the strange but not unfriendly atmosphere that lingered. An atmosphere that was so different from the district you had settled in - It seemed almost human. The cannibals were old-fashioned - you appreciated that- but they were friendly, courteous and downright delightful sinners to be around (if you were minful of their diet).

You watched the dancing couples, women twirling around in colorful dresses, the men accompanying them with fine suits, everyone adorned with flamboyant bow ties and flashy hats, wearing shiny leather shoes and polished heels. And that music, jazz at it's peak. Everyone was laughing, joking, the air was electric with happy chatter and jokes and it felt as if all your worries simply evaporated. It had to be, one of the most unique places you had been, in Hell.

You made yourself visible again, startling a group of young cannibals next to the buffet. With a giggle and a swish of your magenta-and-black striped tail, you set down your emptied glass on one of the silver trays. Turning back to look for another refreshment, your vision was blocked by a red pinstripe suit. A man had stepped in your path, a charming smile on his lips, and he seemed amused.

"Moving is a funny thing to do when no one's watching."

He offered you a glass of wine with the same burnt red color of his hair, his teeth glinting as his eyes scanned your body - not in a lewd way, but with bemused interest and impish curiosity. You chuckled, taking the glass with a head tilt.

"Why thank you, stranger, but you know, moving without being seen is just half the fun. Getting where you want without being noticed is the other."

You twirled the glass in between your fingers, sipping the expensive beverage, watching his expression with delight - how his grin widened, eyes locked to yours, amused and captivated by what you just said. Of course you knew who he was, your tail shivered and bushed up as you thought about it. Hell, you wrote more than one article about him.

One couldn't exist in hell without hearing the stories about the radio demon - the up and coming overlord, toppling long-established powerholders like dominoes and broadcasting their screams on every radio in the pride ring. Known for his gentlemanly manners, his brutal ruthlessness - and his never-fading, signature smile.

"Spoken like a true feline. The name's Alastor, darling, pleasure to be meeting you.", he mused, and tilted his glass towards yours, awaiting you to clink it. His crimson eyes were shining like rubies, glinting dangerously yet so strangely intriguing as they watched your every reaction, and his lips curled up into a challenging, cocky grin as your glasses chimed together and you told him your name.

"Say, would you care for a little dance, dear? Your tail seems quite desperate for some frivolity, why it looks like it will come to life in a moment."

You glanced towards your backside, the traitorous appendage whipping completely out of control in anticipated excitement, the damned thing. You laughed, downing the rest of the drink, and made the tail disappear. Alastor rose a brow at your innocent expression.

“Seems like my tail has a full dance card. I, on the other hand, am quite free..."

His other eyebrow raised along the first one, and he chuckled ass he gave you a little bow, which he coupled with an outstretched, clawed hand.

"I can only hope you are able to compensate the loss - it looked quite eager."

The next thing you knew he had you on the dance floor, pulling you close to his body and guiding your steps, spinning you around with ease. One hand was around your waist, the other had a hold of one of yours. You quickly lost the feeling of time and space - all you were able to focus on was him.

"Your smile never falters, darling. I can't help but wonder why?"

You giggled, a gloved hand covering your mouth as he turned you, crimson glowing eyes never leaving yours.

"I don't know, really. My papan used to tell me that it was the only thing I had going for me, and it's what made silly soldiers so easy to kill."

You could feel the air around him tense and shift, his grin widening at your words as he turned you in again.

"Ah, a lady after my own heart. I can appreciate a woman who knows how to have fun."

You didn't say anything to his comment, just smiled, and he pulled you closer.

"Why don't we have a little fun of our own? I have the right mind for a little game, if you're up to it, darling?"

The music ended, everyone around you applauding but you were captured. Entranced. Frozen. By those eyes, this most unique and alluring voice. Oh, yes it was alluring. He was charming and intense, the mystery of this person was attracting you so hard, you could almost taste his taste, feel his touch.

The way he offered a game... he had the same dangerously mischievous expression you had, back when you planned what to do with your next victim. Only that you were absolutely sure, you were invited as a player, not as a pawn. And that made you burst with excitement, you hadn't felt such thrill and lust for a challenge in so long, you could almost physically feel your hunger taking hold of you, your craving for that sensation, for an opportunity to rise to this occasion.

***

The night was chilly, for hell's standards. You both had bid your farewells to Rosie, who in response only cocked an amused brow at Alastor and wished you both a fun rest of the night. After Alastor gallantly offered his arm, you had started walking, seemingly aimless, but you didn't mind. He proved to be a very pleasant conversation partner, and you soon found yourself very relaxed and amused around him.

You enjoyed listening to him, laughing in amusement about his animated gesticulation and his storytelling skills. And there was more, a tension, a strange attraction in the air, an electromagnetic current that almost hummed between you two. When he asked about your heritage, you were pleased to notice how enthralled he seemed that you were french in origin and the fact that you killed german soldiers during the still raging world war stirred up his sadistic and malicious sense of humor. When you explained to him how you met your end, a grin that could only be described as purely diabolic curled up on his lips.

"Why, you're my favorite type of femme diabolique, aren't you a scintillating creature?"

His ears flicked and he stopped in his tracks, grin widening as gestured for you to walk next to him into the shadows of an alley. Intrigued, you made yourself invisible and followed him, hearing faint voices as if in a fight.

"As exciting as I found our conversation to be, darling, the night is young - and I do owe you a little fun, wouldn't you agree?"

His voice sounded lower and remarkably more sinister, shoulders tense and almost trembling as he stalked forwards, pressing you into his side. "It seems we have found the finest opportunity. What luck he have."

The voices became eligible, and you instantly knew what he was talking about. Two shark sinners were standing in front of the back-entrance of some dubious bar, sharing a smoke. The fight seemed to be about a girl they intended to drug and take advantage of - both of them insisting to 'break her in' the first. Abominable scum. You felt your teeth itching to sink into their necks to break them.

"So, madame - two wasteful beings, two players. How would you like to set the rules for our game, hm?"

You shivered with delight. "Sometimes I find the most simple approach is the best, d'accord? You show me what you can do, I show you what I can. After they're dead, we vote who won best kill. If it's a draw, no one wins et la partie est perdue."

Alastor grinned wider and hummed, apparently delighted by your idea.

"An uncompromising game - I like the style, I say, game on! Now, for the winner's reward..."

"Une carte blanche? - but no souls, I'm afraid.", you grinned at him, slowly fading into nothing from the bottom to the top, until there were only your eyes and your smile left.

"Sounds fair enough, let the games begin, darling! I'll take the left one."

And with that, he melted into his own shadows, creeping up behind the left sinner who had just extinguished the cigarette to a tiny piece of tobacco butt on the floor. You followed him entranced, fully invisible now, and rounded the right one - he wasn't as fat and greasy as Alastor's victim, with droopy eyes and lanky legs - perfect for breaking.

"Fuck you, Ollie, I saw her first, so I get the first fuck, too."

With a last glance to the moving shadow you leaned into your prey.

"How about we make it a threesome, baby?"

The man spun around in a panicked startle, and you could smell the alcohol seeping out of his pores. He was intoxicated, and sloppy on his feet. Just how you liked it. His friend tried to say something in warning, but was quickly muffled by dark tendrils that shot out of the dark shade below him, binding his limbs and wrapping around his face.

"What the fuck... who are you, bitch?"

"Aw, come on chèrie, you don't need to know my name to have a great time. You don't even have to drug me first."

You shifted to become visible, the man's eyes bulging out of his skull as you did and took a tentative step towards him. His friend was screaming behind him, his arms and legs wrapped up in shadowy tentacles, the sound muffled and the tendrils slowly squeezing him, wringing him out like a moist rag. It was a truly bizarre and yet absolutely hypnotizing sight.

"Oh shit, Ollie... H-hey, listen, we didn't... uh, fuck, we can all just forget this and, and... fuck, get the hell out of here!"

You laughed, it echoed in the cold night, a sound so eerie that even the man before you shuddered, his eyes fixated on you as you advanced and circled him, claws dragging over his neck and shoulder, and a shiver went down your spine when you saw Alastor, emerging from the shadows, as fixed on you as your victim was, but with fascination and satisfaction rather than fear and panic.

"Oh no, cherie... let's make this a night to remember, oui?"

With that, you pushed the man forward, your tail wrapping around his ankle to swipe his leg off the ground. With a sickening crack he fell onto his back, a pained scream escaping his lips and rendered helpless as you pinned him down by kneeling right onto his crotch before he could even move. This bastard would never be able to use his dick on poor, unsuspecting women again. You let your head fall back into an unnatural angle, watching behind you to a still unmoving, enthralled Alastor.

"Are you just going to watch, cher? It's quite rude to stare at a lady like that."

For a split second, his grin faltered, before widening once more, a low chuckle resounding in his chest, a sound that made you shudder.

"Why, my dear, how could I not, when you're making such a captivating sight."

His words spurred you on and stretched your smile so wide it started to hurt, your body hot and eager - you wanted to impress him, make him crave more of this. More of you. You shifted, turning your head back, and reached a clawed hand onto the man's throat. You concentrated on the feeling of your claws against his grayish, leathery skin as he choked.

"Let's make it a real party, then."

You willed magenta glowing mirror images of your claws into existence, envisioned them scratching and slicing the sinners body into long, thin ribbons - his screams told you it was working. He was cut up alive, his thrashing restrained by a few of the many hands you conjured. They lifted his mangled body up, it looked almost like a bastardized version of a crucifixion, and gave him a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Cela ne fera que très mal."

You've only ever let your full demon form come out once - right after you fell and were attacked by other newcomers. It still felt new, almost untamable, but you were desperate to show him. For Alastor to see you, not as a damsel in distress, or some silly girl playing checkers where others played chess. So you let it take over, your form growing longer, your skin becoming black fur with glowing pink streaks, claws sharpening, and your maw growing. Your victim was still howling and fighting the hands holding him, his blood dripping onto the street and mixing with the puddles on the concrete. He screamed in terror as your jaws opened and you bit into his throat, ripping him to shreds with your sharp teeth, his intestines sloshing onto the pavement and the smell of blood filling the air and the sweet and bitter iron taste ran down your throat.

And just like that, the last remains of his body hit the floor with a mundane, squelching noise. The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn't hear anything, except for the rapid beating of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Then, you heard clapping, slow and rhythmical. You turned your head to see Alastor standing, the other sinner still bound, his face twisted in agony and his eyes bulging out of his eye holes.

"My my, a breathtakingly gruesome display, my dear. Truly enticing!"

He walked towards you, the shadows dissolving as he came closer, the tentacles retreating and the man falling onto the pavement. You watched him with a manic expression, your smile still on your face as your demonic form receded and you could feel the coolness of your victims blood on your fangs as a gust of wind blew through the alley, ruffling your hair.

"Now, for my own part... I have to admit, yours is a little hard to follow, but, oh well."

He snapped his fingers and his shadow stretched out behind him, towering above him with its head bowed, and you saw his eyes glow and transform into dials as a green glow and strange symbols surrounded the sinner's body, his limbs bending and his joints cracking, the sound of snapping bones and gurgling blood filling the alley, as the shadow slowly pulled the man's insides out through his mouth and ripped his head from his neck. It fell onto the concrete, and rolled right into your direction. You watched the eyes of the severed head turn gray, and smiled.

"Very impressive, cher. A true work of art, no?"

"Thank you, darling, I appreciate the compliment."

With another snap of his fingers the gore was gone, the streets cleaned and the corpses - or rather, what had been left of them - vanished, leaving no evidence behind. He turned to face you, the shadow retreating behind him as his dial eyes vanished and returned to their normal, intense red ones, an inquisitive grin plastered on his face as he came to a stop just before you.

"Now, there's only one thing left to do - the determination of the winner."

You laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn't care less who won. Alastor's eyes darted downwards, to your lips, and you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, the urge to bite your lower lip growing.

"I'd say we're both winners, but rules are rules."

"I fear so, darling."

There was a pause, neither of you said a word. Then, slowly, he raised a hand and brushed his fingers over your bloodied cheek. You closed your eyes, your breath catching as his claws traced the outlines of your lips. The moment was charged and electrifying, you didn't want to say anything and maybe break the spell. He laughed, low and sweet, leaning into you.

"I think I'm inclined to give my vote to you, darling. Do I have a choice, really?"

Before you could respond, your words were stolen from your lips as they met his, crashing together in a passionate, heated, long overdue kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you and pressing you into his body with ease and your tail curved behind you, happy to know your feelings were mutual as his long claws buried themselves in you blood-stained hair. You sighed against his lips, your own hands clutching to his neck and shoulders, a feeling you couldn't describe in your stomach.

For the first time in forever, you were kissed without it being because you were just pretty, or just a girl, perceived as a weak thing to be taken advantage of. This kiss was because you were powerful, you were impressive, because you were something of an equal in his own image - and if the world wouldn't stop here, if it went on forever and on and if time itself would cease to exist, this kind of passion would not.

A purr escaped your throat as his tongue danced with yours, tasting you - the sweet yet bittersweet, almost metallic taste of blood - yours, the sinners, you didn't care. You'd die all over again, a thousand times more painful than the original time, just for another second of this bloody kiss.

All too soon, it ended and his mouth left yours, making you feel the strange warmth radiating from his skin as he pressed a light peck on your parted lips, brushing his fingertips over your soft skin, red-stained and glowing. You panted, opening your eyes, and your own magenta irises met his, staring deep into them.

"It's a draw, then.", you said, the corners of your mouth tugging up to a smirk as you gave your vote to him unspoken.

"Which means the game is lost.", he answered, and you laughed, knowing you'd never been happier to lose at anything ever, and with a smile your lips chased after his once again.

"Hmmm... with a reward like this, I suppose a victory wouldn't be near as satisfying, anyway." He chuckled into the kiss. "And there's always a next time, right, darling?"

Translations: et la partie est perdue - And the game is lost Cela ne fera que très mal - This will only hurt a lot

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Shh! Pt. 2

Summary: The hangovers are very real for Dean and Y/N. Will they notice the artwork on the fridge?

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. This second part is pretty much all fluff too.

Word Count: 2,693 (This part was a bit longer than the first. Sorry!)

A/C: Okay, so the first part of Shh! was actually just supposed to be a one shot, fic request. But I got a fair few requests for a sequel about the morning after, and I wanted to know what happened too. So, here it is. Lol! I had a lot of fun writing the two parts to this little story. Hope you have fun reading them. ❤️

It was requested that I tag @arcannaa if I made a second part. So, here ya go, lovely. Let me know if you'd like to be added to one of the tag lists linked below. ❤️

Part 1 is here || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The Next Morning:

Dean's groan was deep and long and ended in one word. “Fuck.”

“Shh…” Y/N held her head in her hands as she sat up. “Why are you so loud?” She asked, and her voice sounded as dry and cracked as the Sahara. 

“No, you're so loud.” Was Dean's witty rejoinder as he sat up beside her.

They both turned their heads to look at each other and groaned again. Y/N looked around the room and her brow creased with confusion.

“Why am I here?”

Dean grunted. “I'm a little too hungover for an existential crisis.”

Y/N pursed her lips, side eyeing him. “No, idiot. I mean why am I here in your bed? Why aren't I in my own bed?”

Dean rubbed his hand down his face. “Well, your bed is about 2 hours away, which probably explains the sleepover.”

Y/N hummed her agreement and pointed at him, conceding the point. “Yeah, I guess neither of us was in the best shape to drive.” She paused and then scowled. “We didn't, right? I mean, we didn’t drive home.”

She squinted at Dean who was shaking his head. “Nooo…” His tone said that was impossible, but then he tilted his head. “Right? There’s no way we would have been that stupid.”

Y/N shook her head and then stopped when the room started spinning. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “No, we must have taken a cab. We must have.”

It was silent while both of them tried desperately to remember something from the night before.

Dean sat up straight. “Rainbow Connection!” He said suddenly.

Y/N turned to look at him again and one eye brow was raised. “Are you stroking out?”

Dean waved at her. “No, the cab. I remember we took a cab cause I remember being in it and singing ‘Rainbow Connection’.”  He closed his eyes. “I really don’t remember why though.”

Y/N gasped softly, remembering something. “Rambeau.” 

Dean opened his eyes to look at her and his expression was all confusion. “Uh…Rocky II. We just naming Stallone movies?”

Y/N made a sound of disgust. “No, B - E - A - U, Rambeau, not Rambo.” When Dean still just stared at her blankly, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “It was the driver’s name, remember. But you thought he -”

“ - said Rainbow!” Dean finished, snapping his fingers. “Right! That’s when we started singing it.” He nodded, happy with their mental sleuthing, and then he shook his head.

“Man, I hope we gave him a big tip.”

Y/N chuckled and then took a big breath. “K, I need coffee, stat. Like a vat of coffee, like, this is a  hook-it-to-my-veins kinda situation.”

Dean grunted his agreement and they both pushed themselves up from the bed with a painful groan. Dean grabbed Y/N’s wrist as they were leaving the room. “Wait, do you remember…did we talk to Sam last night?”

Y/N just shrugged. “Dude, I have no idea.”

“Huh…I feel like we did.” Dean said quietly as he padded towards the kitchen with Y/N trailing just behind him.

When they got to the kitchen Y/N collapsed onto one of the seats at the table and cradled her head in her hands.

Dean walked to the coffee maker and his face lit up. 

“Oh, thank god for a little brother who gets up at the butt crack of dawn to go running to nowhere in particular. He made the coffee already!” He grabbed two cups and brought them and the pot to the table. 

Y/N inhaled deeply, pulling the aroma of the coffee into her lungs. “Do you have cream?”

Dean made a face. “Cream? God no; this is a black coffee household, Y/N. You should know this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, of course. Only manly black coffee for the Winchesters. How foolish of me.”

Dean shot her a grin and nodded in the direction of the fridge. “Might be some milk in the fridge.”

Y/N groaned again as she dragged herself up and stumbled blindly towards the fridge. She looked back at Dean as she pulled open the door. “I swear to God it feels like my muscles are about two minutes away from seizing up all together.”

Dean chuckled as Y/N looked into the fridge and shook her head. “There is nothing resembling milk in this fridge.”

“In the back?”

“Dean, there is no ‘back’ to this fridge. You’ve got three beers and leftover pizza that’s harder than the cardboard box it’s in.” She said as she peered inside. As Dean began rummaging around at the coffee station, she picked up a piece of the pizza and banged the crust against the box.

“That’s just sad.” She muttered.

“Score!” Dean called out just as Y/N closed the fridge door. “Found something called Coffee Whitener! Not CoffeeMate, it’s literally just called coffee whitener.”

“Uh…Dean?”

Dean’s face fell into a frown. “Actually, I don’t know how old this is.”

“Dean.”

“Might be from the fifties.” Dean mumbled. “Cause for the life of me I can’t remember Sam or I ever buying -”

“Dean!” Y/N yelled.

Dean grimaced as her shout made his head pound. “What? Jesus, why are you yelling?”

Y/N was pointing at the fridge door. “What the fuck is this?”

Dean set down the coffee whitener and walked over. “What the fuck is what?”

Y/N just kept pointing as Dean came up beside her to see two wrinkled up pieces of paper stuck to the fridge.

As he read the words he felt his heart clench. He read both letters twice.

He looked at Y/N slowly and couldn’t read what her expression was saying. He shook his head. “I - I mean, I dunno. Where did they come from?”

Y/N shrugged. “I don't know, but that’s my handwriting and…that’s yours. Do you…I mean, do you remember writing them?”

Dean shook his head. “No. I don’t remember. But, I mean…it must have…I mean, it had to be some kind of joke, right? Like we were messing around? Just some kind of drunken joke?”

Y/N was looking away from him, but he shrugged again. “I mean, don’t you think?”

She nodded and her face was scrunched up when she looked at him. “Had to be, right?”

He felt his heart plummet even as he nodded. “Right?”

“Yeah, we were just being stupid, fucking around.” She concluded quietly.

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

They were quiet for a minute before Y/N pointed towards the table. “So, did you say something about 1950’s coffee whitener?”

Dean forced a chuckle. “Yeah, come try it out, if you dare.”

They sat at the table and Dean poured them both coffee. In the end, Y/N just took a bit of sugar in hers, not willing to be a guinea pig for the decades old, mostly chemicals coffee whitener. 

Silence reigned between them, neither of them able to push aside the words in the letters. Finally, Y/N couldn’t take the awkwardness and, pushing her coffee cup aside, she stood up.

“I should probably get going. I gotta shower and change and, you know, try to feel like a human again.” She said with a stilted laugh.

Dean nodded. “Yeah for sure. I’ll drive you.”

Y/N waved him down as he started to stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take the bus. There’s one that comes at 11:00. I’ve taken it before.”

Dean frowned. “Why the hell would you take the bus when I can just drive you.”

Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears nervously. She knew she wouldn't survive a two hour car ride, sitting so close to him but knowing she was never going to get any closer.

...it had to be some kind of joke, right? Dean's dismissive voice echoed in her mind.

So, she shook her head at him. “No, it’s okay. This way you can just rest and feel better. I like the bus. You know, I just put my music on and chill the whole way.”

“Right.” Dean said sardonically, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Cause you know, if I drove you, we’d definitely be listening to an audio book about the sixteenth century Christian Reformation. No music in my car.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “No, I know…but…”

Dean just nodded again. “Yeah, okay. Well, have a good two hour bus ride, I guess.”

Y/N smiled. “I will. I’ll uh…I’ll call you.”

“M’kay.”

Y/N cleared her throat. “See ya.” She said with another plastered-on-smile as she left the kitchen.

“Yeah, see ya.” Dean answered quietly.

About an hour later Dean was still sitting at the kitchen table nursing an ice cold black coffee when he heard the bunker door slam. A minute later Sam walked into the kitchen in his running clothes, sweating and still breathing deeply. 

He went to the sink to fill up his water bottle as he looked back at Dean with a smirk. “You look ill.” Dean just grunted and Sam chuckled as he took a sip of water. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

“Went home.” Dean answered shortly.

Sam frowned looking towards the fridge where the letters still hung.  “Didn’t you guys see the letters?”

Dean’s head came up quickly and he stared at Sam. “What do you mean? Why do you know about them?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Who the hell do you think hung them up there?”

Dean shook his head, anger in his expression. “Why the fuck would you do something like that? Y/N saw them and freaked.”

“What?”

“I’m telling you. She saw what I wrote and couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Wouldn’t even take a ride home.” Dean said sullenly.

Sam set his water bottle down on the island, hard. “Oh my god!” He growled. “I might actually strangle you both.” When Dean just continued to frown at him, Sam shook his head. “Didn’t you each read the other’s letter? You guys wrote essentially the same thing to each other. Because you’re both so into each other. Jesus Christ.”

He pushed two hands through his damp hair. “I figured once you both saw it written out right in front of you, you’d realize that you’re both a couple of dumbasses!”

Dean shook his head. “No, she didn’t mean what she wrote. She thought it was some kind of drunken joke.”

Sam scowled. “She told you it was just a joke? She remembered writing her letter?”

“No, but I asked if she thought it was a joke and she said yeah, it had to be. Had to be because she has no interest in me like that.”

“Did she actually say that?” Sam asked, speaking over the end of Dean’s sentence, “Or did she just go along with you when you suggested it was a joke, because that’s what she thought you thought?” 

When Dean didn’t answer Sam growled again in frustration. “For fuck’s sake this is ridiculous. I’m just gonna spell it out for you.” He walked over to stand in front of Dean at the table. “Y/N is madly in love with you.”

Dean scoffed, but Sam sliced his hand through the air. “No, shut up. She is in love with you and you are in love with her, and if you asked one single other person who knows you both, they’ll tell you the exact same thing. Because it is glaringly, abundantly, stupidly obvious, you dumbass. Now go find her at the station, tell her the truth and watch how quickly she tells you she feels the same.”

Dean was frowning. “That's not gonna happen.” But he could feel a spark of hope at his brother’s certainty.

Sam just glared. 

He threw up his hands. “Okay, I’ll go.” He stood up and walked towards the door, stopping on the top step to look back at Sam. “But when she rips my heart out and I lose my best friend, you’re gonna be the one who has to deal with me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pointed. “Go.”

All the way to the bus station, Dean was running through scenarios in his mind. As he parked outside, his watch said 10:50; was she already gonna be on the bus? Would it be like one of those horrible romcom things, where he had to chase her down through the crowd and then confess his love on a bus full of people. And if he did that, was Sam right? Would she love him back, or was it going to end up as - less funny romcom, more tragic farce? 

He had the scenario half imagined in his head, but when he walked through the doors he was reminded that the Lebanon bus station was actually quite small so, no running from terminal to terminal looking for her. There were only two bus stalls outside to begin with, but also, she was sitting calmly on a bench just across from the door.

He walked towards her and her eyes got wide.

Fuck, I can’t do this. Why the fuck am I doing this? Dean thought over and over.

He stopped in front of her and she looked up at him, her face puzzled. “Dean? What are you doing here?”

He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and rocked up on to the balls of his feet; he shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought…I really wanna give you a ride home.”

Y/N frowned and lifted a hand towards the small ticket office. “I already bought my ticket.”

“Well, get a refund.”

“Why do you want to drive me home so badly?” Y/N asked loudly, frustration tinting her words.

“Why don’t you want me to?” Dean answered even louder.

Y/N let out a huff of air. “I don’t want you to not…I don’t not want…I want not t -” She broke off with a cry of frustration. “Ugh!!”

She looked up at him and her gaze was confused and questioning. “Dean, what is going on here?”

Dean shuffled from foot to foot for a minute, until Y/N started to speak again and he cut her off.

“The letter was true.”

He spoke quietly and he wondered if she’d heard him. He wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to say it again; as it was, he was staring at the ground, his stomach in knots.

“What?”

He shook his head and finally just decided it was all or nothing.

“My letter. What I wrote. It was true. I mean, it was drunken idiocy, but…” He raised his head and looked at her. “It was true.”

“Really?” 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught relief in her voice, so he smiled at her and gave a resigned nod. 

“Yep. You are my good day.” He said, paraphrasing his letter. “I want kisses from you.” He paused a beat. “And also sex.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry.”

Y/N’s smile was bright and beautiful as she leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank god.” She bit her bottom lip and then quoted her letter. “I hope you will kiss me. All the time.”

Dean felt like his chest might actually burst from happiness as he grasped her waist and pulled her close. 

“I can do that.”

He pulled her tight against him, capturing her lips in a kiss that he’d waited for for a very long time. 

Y/N felt lightheaded with joy and with the headiness of Dean’s kiss. His lips were soft and searching as they pressed tightly to hers, and she opened to him immediately, reveling in the deep groan that tumbled out of him as he sank his tongue deep into her mouth. 

They clung to each other, endlessly kissing, sharing breath and stealing each other's moans. Neither of them were one hundred percent sure they weren’t just in a very vivid dream, but both of them were determined that if it was a dream, they didn’t want to wake up. 

The loudspeaker came on announcing that Y/N’s bus was boarding, but neither of them heard it, and neither of them cared. The ticket agent who’d sold her the ticket called out to her.

“Miss, your bus is leav-”

But her coworker interrupted her. “Shh! Are you crazy? Do you see the man kissing her? Trust me she does NOT want to be disturbed.”

She wasn't wrong.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

[tobiasdrake]

Man, every time you post from Dragonball Meta I go "Man, that makes so much sense! Now I wanna see their take on this" On that note: How would you describe Gohan and Krillin's dynamic

It takes a village to raise a child. Goku, Chi-Chi, and Piccolo's contributions to Gohan's upbringing are often brought up, but it's often overlooked that he was Krillin's ward for a time too.

During their time on Namek, Krillin and Gohan have a pretty neat dynamic. As a hybrid Saiyan given some instruction in ki manipulation and martial arts by Piccolo, Gohan has a great deal of raw ability. But he's also five years old.

He's got a lot of power and some technical prowess but he doesn't have the sharp instincts or experience of a martial artist. He has the temperament of a child in need of guidance. Because. Like. That's what he literally is.

His ki sensing tends to be more finely tuned than Krillin's.

Gohan is a fantastic radar. I think learning to sense ki at such an early age probably made it second nature for him, like having a sixth sense. But that's my speculation.

In any case, Gohan's got a lot of ability but what he lacks is maturity, experience, and some of the more esoteric techniques picked up from a lifetime of martial arts study. That's where Krillin comes in. Krillin calls the shots during their time on Namek.

As an aside, I love this moment because it conveys the difference in technique between the two. Gohan and Krillin are both about to absolutely murder these guys in one hit each, but the way they're about to do it is totally different.

Gohan fights like a brawler, and so he's just going in for a hard right hook. Krillin, meanwhile, is preparing to twirl himself around with Bukujutsu in order to create momentum for a spinning kick.

Brute force on the one hand and finely honed martial arts on the other. Akira Toriyama's greatest talent as an artist was conveying character through action.

That is their dynamic on Namek. (Dynamek?) Gohan is powerful beyond measure while Krillin makes choices about where and how to apply that power. And when Gohan's impulsiveness gets them into trouble (in a way that will pay out massive dividends for years to come):

It's Krillin's technical knowledge, experience, and knack for subterfuge that gets them out of it.

This victory was brought to you by everybody cannibalizing Tenshinhan's techniques because they're so good. Dude needs to start filing patents.

Bunch of fucking thieves, Kame-senryu.

This sort of teamwork is the relationship they develop. Krillin is experienced and tactical, but also pragmatic. He didn't want to save Dende; He was totally willing to let Dende die to avoid exposing him and Gohan. But he rolls with it and adapts.

When he next sets out into a situation where they might have to leave the Namekians to die, he doesn't say he's not taking Gohan to avoid a similar predicament... but he does bench Gohan without giving any reason for it.

It's certainly an interesting choice, to be sure.

And a mistake he'll spend the next six days trying to un-make.

Oof. Would have been a great idea to have brought Gohan along in the first place, huh?

He does it again much later, when he's once again flying into a situation where he might have to choose between exposing himself to Frieza or letting the Namekians die.

Again, no explanation offered. Gohan volunteers to join and Krillin tells him, "Nope." Gohan has implicitly been fired from ever doing spy ops with Krillin again. Nonetheless, he continues to follow Krillin's lead unquestioningly, all the way up to the end.

For his part, Gohan is impulsive and follows his heart. He leans on Krillin for guidance and mentorship, but also follows his heart.

But together they effectively fight as a single unit. That... psychic mind training thing they were doing on the spaceship wasn't just sparring; They were also forming battle strategies and making plans for fighting an enemy together.

The coordination and teamwork between Gohan and Krillin is some of the best in the series, because they had both time and will to practice and train themselves as battle partners. Guldo can freeze time and he's still on the backfoot from how fast they flow from one attack to another, and how well Gohan's learned to read Krillin's moves and follow along without a word between them.

Oh, and the ki sensing.

I love the way Krillin and Gohan dominate this fight. Guldo's telekinesis almost pulls this out for him right at the end, but 90% of this fight is Guldo narrowly avoiding being brutally murdered by virtue of his time manipulation.

This is, once again, the Planet Trade Organization in the nutshell. Their raw abilities are incredible, while the Earthlings are better fighters. This tends to put the Earthlings on the backfoot, but the Earthlings have the tools to at least navigate the situation - For a time, at least.

When they can find an answer, they excel. When they can't, the raw ability of the PTO wins out. One of my favorite moments for Gohan and Krillin is right here, when they intervene during Vegeta's fight with Recoome.

This is a desperation move. There was no plan here. "We're fucked; GET 'IM!" was the only idea exchanged before they rush in.

So, lacking a coordinated strategy like the ones they used against Guldo, you can see their different values manifest in how they move. Krillin, the underhanded pragmatist, goes straight for a critical shot. Hitting Recoome with a well-placed knee drop to slam his jaw shut on the ultra-powerful Eraser Gun he's firing from his mouth.

Krillin's sneak attack fucks up Recoome about as hard as the preceding battle with Vegeta did.

But where Krillin sees an opening for a powerful hit, Gohan sees a life in danger. So he moves to save Vegeta instead of following Krillin's attack. Even Vegeta's startled by this decision.

Vegeta's pissed that Gohan didn't let him die. Vegeta would have let Vegeta die.

This is who Gohan is: A kindhearted boy who doesn't want to be in these violent situations but will do whatever he has to do in order to protect the lives of others.

Gohan is the most unambiguously heroic character in the cast. There is no poison in his heart. He's not here to fight. He doesn't care about martial arts. He has no enjoyment and no love of violence. He has Goku's best quality: He doesn't like it when people are being hurt, and he's bold enough to get involved if he can. But it's distilled in Gohan, untouched by Goku's poison.

Which is both a strength and a weakness, in different ways. And remains so throughout the rest of his life.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

“Sorry I’m late.” Astarion x Evie please :)

A/N: This has just been idea floating around in my brain for a while. If y'all would want me to expand this to a full fic, let me know!

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Evie really had to stop letting Astarion talk them into messes like these. Sure, turning them in for the bounty only to break them out again was a good scam the first two or three times. Five, however, was reaching an upper limit and at some point those doing the imprisoning were going to get smart about it.

Making sure the bard was well gagged and hands chained to the wall was certainly a good start. They'd also upped the security around their cell and even gone so far at to put them to sleep before and after they had their daily rations. Credit where credit was due, the guards never made the same mistake twice. They could take a page from their book.

"Sorry I'm late, darling."

Evie's head whipped up to the once barred window to find a familiar rogue perched on the edge and looking very pleased with himself.

"You would not believe the trouble I went to just to find a Scroll of Fly. You'd think I was asking for a Solar’s bow. I hate to say it, but moments like these I miss the wizard."

Evie could only glare as Astarion tied a rope at the top of the window and slid down to their level, landing with only the barest scrap of boots on stone.

"Oh, don't be like that," he said, with a pout. "I did apologize for being late."

He untied their gag, allowing Evie to breath properly for the first time in two days.

"You didn't think to get a scroll before turning me in," they huffed.

"We didn't know the lay out of the prison then. Besides, improvising has always been more our style."

He shot them his most charming grin as he said it, forcing Evie to avert their gaze with an eyeroll. Damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well next time let’s try improvising you being captured. It seems only fair.”

“Fair, but not practical my love. I have yet to see you do this.” With a flourish, he turned the lock freeing Evie’s hands with a satisfying--

BOOM!

Evie and Astarion both jumped back at the sound, the lock falling to the ground with a clank. Just beyond the door yelling and the clanking of armor rose in a swell heading straight towards them.

Astarion was by their side the next moment, pulling Evie onto unsteady feet and towards the rope.

“I believe that’s our cue to leave immediately.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” they said, grabbing hold of the rope. “You do have a way to get down, don’t you?”

“Details, love, details.” 

send me a sentence + pairing and i’ll write the next five sentences

[baileybeez]

My Top 10 Catradora Moments (My Opinion Obviously)

10. Adora Has Always Loved Catra

This is the moment I believe Adora firmly knows she's in love with Catra. I know she's in love with Catra beforehand but I believe this is the first time she realizes 'I'm in love with Catra'. Adora is getting ready to face an uncertain outcome with Horde Prime and she's trying to remain strong. But we can see glimpses of her looking for Catra wanting to her come back. We then see as she's heading to the Heart of Etheria, memories are being projected. The first one that comes up that really hits Adora is Catra. Catra saying her last and classic 'Hey Adora' and Adora is at first thrilled she's back. But then it changes to Catra when she was younger training in the fright zone, Catra from when she was chipped, Catra from Season 4, Catra from season's 1-3 and then current Catra. This to me screams 'Adora has always loved Catra despite all the hardships they've endured'. Even though she realizes deep down, this isn't the real Catra, she wanted to reciprocate her touch. But then the fake Catra disappears as Adora is almost off the edge.

Also this scene brought that iconic 'Somewhere Only We Know' tiktok.

9. God She's Cute When She Laughs

Everyone knows I'm a sucker for fluff so this little moment always stuck out to me. We've seen Catra blush before and she looked at Adora's New She Ra Form and was like 'Damn...she kinda bad.' But this one was so sweet and wholesome. Catra at first is annoyed cause they're teasing her about how cute her helmet is and at first you think she's gonna be defensive about it. At first she is but then she see's Adora laugh and freezes. Adora is so happy Catra is getting along with her friends and is back to the Catra she grew up with. And Catra just smiles at Adora, any frustration she had melted away.

8. Princess Prom

Ya'll this episode was the reason I gave She-Ra a shot. I saw this scene floating around online and I just had to find out what was going on. At the time, I had only recently accepted myself as sapphic and this was one of the first scenes that caught my attention during that time. There were already strong hints of Catradora later becoming a thing but this scene hit differently. We get to see the dynamic these two would have for a few more seasons. The shift between them as they become enemies while still seeing they still care for one another.

7. It's Over, He's Gone

The end moment with these two in She-Ra was fantastic. Hearing Catra's soft 'Adora' as the two smile at each other was adorable. Adora reaches out her hand to Catra and reassures her that it's over and that Horde Prime is gone. These two had gone through so much because of the Horde. And now, their foreheads touch as they're just happy they made it to their happy beginning for each other. With Catra still being snarky and saying 'Good riddance'. It's a good final moment where the two can be happy. And now this just makes me wish we got a She-Ra movie.

6. Please Just Stay

First of all, if you haven't already please read Don't Go by Nate Stevenson. It's a fanfiction he created that takes place after Save the Cat and really helps highlight this and other scenes I'm about to get into later. It's also just really good. But Catra beforehand is struggling to figure out why Adora saved her and dealing with the aftermath of what Horde Prime did to her. She and Adora just had a big fight with Adora telling Catra she never hated her. We find out later, the chip on Catra is tracking the ship they're on and they need to get it off. With Catra needing to confront Entrapta (who she also didn't end things on good terms with) and Adora. Adora tells Catra once they're done, they can drop her off and she won't have to see any of them again. We see this crumbles Catra's usual strong self as she lets herself be vulnerable for a moment. Grabbing Adora's wrist and then her hand requesting that she stays, Adora also blushes. Catra also comes up with an idea to read what Hordak's planning since their minds are connected. Catra knows Adora will continue to fight Horde Prime and knows she'll be reckless. She just asks Adora to stay with her with two two holding each other. I love this moment as we see the two work together and slowly build their bond again.

5. You Coming?

As Adora is succumbing to the virus and Catra calls out to her, we get this moment of Adora's wish. She's back home with Catra, Glimmer and Bow as they're all getting ready for Scorpia's Princess Prom. Adora wants desperately to have this future with her friends and home happy. She's slowly learning to be selfish after she's been stuck trying to give and give as She-Ra. And she wants a life with Catra, the person she's come to love and married to in this vision. Stevenson confirmed couples in Etheria have something to show they have ties to each other. Catra is wearing Adora’s wing buckle on her shirt and Adora is wearing Catra's head piece on her dress. At first, Adora is sad because part of her wants to embrace this future but doesn't think she deserves this. But seeing Catra, the person she's married to in this version ask her if she's coming with them. She can't help but want to follow her. Even when Adora was dying, all she wanted was a peaceful life with her friends and the person she loved.

4. We're Going Home

Save The Cat in general is a great episode and my personal favorite of She-Ra's. Adora manages to save Catra with the help of her friends as Catra is still unconscious from the fall and whatever Horde Prime did to her. Adora gently holds Catra and telling her she's not done yet and that they're going home. Adora's healing powers manage to work on Catra as she wakes up. She also says her classic 'Hey Adora' in a very weak voice. And Adora is so relieved that she just embraces Catra and and Catra is shocked. We see how hesitant Catra is accept Adora's embrace but eventually she does while letting out a deep breath of relief. With her purring being the last thing we hear before the episode ends. Catra purrs mostly when she's around Adora, she's always happy to be accepted by Adora. This description from Nate Stevenson also really helps sells the moment too.

'They stay that way for a long time, Catra’s face tucked into Adora’s shoulder, Adora gently cradling Catra’s head. Adora is careful not to hug Catra too hard or make her feel restrained, anticipating the moment that Catra will start to pull away — but Catra doesn’t. She hangs on so tightly it hurts, her claws digging through Adora’s jacket and into her back, latching into her like she did when she was a kitten and didn’t know how much her claws could hurt. Adora tries not to wince, tries not to move a single muscle, worried that if she does the spell will break and Catra will struggle away, appalled at having shown weakness. But Catra doesn’t let go. And so neither does Adora.'

3. I'm Not Leaving

Save the Cat and The Heart Part 2 have my favorite Catradora moments and this one is one of them. We saw how Catra came back to Adora when she needed her and almost died trying to save her. Shadow Weaver comes in though and sacrifices herself with Adora and Catra reuniting. This time it's Catra rescuing Adora and coming to her aid instead of the other way around. Adora is struggling to use the failsafe and realizes it might not work. She tells Catra to get far away from where she is and that there's no more time. Saying how she can save everyone and touches her forehead with her own. While also stating how it's okay and she's ready. It's heavily implied Adora is going to die trying to use the Failsafe and Catra stands firm on staying with Adora. Saying whatever happens she'll stay here with her. And we see that as Horde Prime's virus is trying to take control of the Heart, Catra is facing it with Adora.

2. You Matter To Me

I love the scene of Adora trying to save Catra from the chip she's being controlled under. Adora is trying desperately to bring Catra back out and trying not to hurt her despite Catra attacking Adora. Then Catra does break free from control and tells Adora she should have stayed away and asks why she came back when she doesn't matter. With Adora gently holding her face telling Catra she matters to her. This is also asked later again by Catra in Don't Go.

“Why did you come back for me?” she demands.

“I —“ Adora’s voice trails off in the silence. Catra doesn’t let go. The only sound is the soft, muffled humming of the ship’s engines as it moves through space, away from Horde Prime. “Because…” She trails off again.

What is she supposed to say?

“Because…you’re Catra,” she finishes weakly.

Because at the end of the day, Adora will always care for Catra. Then Catra get's possessed again as she walks towards the edge fighting to not be controlled by Horde Prime. Adora reminds Catra she's never listened to anyone in her life and asks if she's going to start now. Catra looks amused as she just says Adora's an idiot with Adora agreeing, tears in her eyes. Adora then says she's going to take Catra home as Catra breaks free from Horde Prime saying 'Promise?'. Adora holds out her hand saying 'I promise!'. This is obviously a parallel to when they were kids and they promised to look out for each other. It's such a heartfelt and touching scene

I Love You

'Catra she distracts you, confuses you.' - Shadow Weaver

'You Etherians are all alike. Such strong connections to one another, it's what makes you weak.' - Horde Prime

And yet their 'weakness' and 'distraction' saved the universe. The Catradora confession scene is number one as it is a finale to Catra and Adora's character arcs. Adora is dying and seemingly getting ready to accept her fate. That there won't be a happy future for her. But then she hears Catra still reaching out and calling for her to wake up. Catra hasn't given up on Adora and Adora never gave up on Catra, so she shouldn't start now.

Adora does try to reach for Catra but doesn't quite make it with her saying it's too late and that she failed. Catra reassures her that she's got Adora and won't let go. In desperation and perhaps wanting to finally tell Adora, Catra says.

'Don't you get it? I love you! I always have! So please just this once, stay!'

We hear Catra and Adora's theme Promise in the background playing this whole time which we haven't heard since the episode Promise. Last time it was Catra leaving Adora to follow her own path and Adora learning to let go of Catra. Now, it's Catra reaching out for Adora as Adora takes her hand. Adora is blushing as Catra has tears in her eyes begging for Adora to stay. Adora does wake up in awe asking if Catra loves her. Catra is blushing while smiling calling Adora an idiot. Then she looks surprised as Adora just smiles at Catra saying she loves her too. They then kiss as Adora is finally able to activate the Failsafe but the two are too busy kissing.

I also want to add in the storyboard version of this scene where Catra says 'We always said it would be you and me, together at the end. But not now, okay?'.

Honorable Mentions Down Below:

[scuttlingcrab]

After rereading the last two installments of the Tailor Tav™️ saga, where Raphael crosses paths with her at a ball and where he reaffirms his desire to commission another piece from her, and the unrelated (I'm assuming) piece where Raphael tries to gift Tav something, I can't help but picture how Raphael would react to Tav teaching him a bit of her craft—at least the non-magical parts of it. Maybe she can use an offer to teach him as part of a bargain with him to free her from the stipulations that ban her from creating for anyone other than Raphael himself? (also I just love the idea of this devil and his a mortal having something like a shared hobby together and/or Tav being a gracious teacher who doesn't belittle Raphael's early efforts when they inevitably aren't quite as perfect as he'd hope, but I'm getting ahead of myself here; just wanted to let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind)

Tailor Tav™️ is back! I've been looking forward to this one for awhile and really hope you enjoy! Thanks for filling my inbox with gems like this! x

Summary: Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Notes: Based on A Perfect Fit, Dressed to Kill, Shadowy Deals, and Dance with the Devil. Tailor Tav™️ has also appeared in a few other one-shots, hehe.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Trial by Fire

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

“Would you hold still?” Tav asked, her voice on the edge of frustration. 

She quickly put out the growing flames with a spell, stopping the fire before it began to overtake the rest of the table. 

Raphael sat sourly beside her, completely out of place in her tent. He had humiliated himself, feeling like an outright fool for the first time in over a thousand years. He held a charred piece of clothing in his hands, the fine material ruined due to his shoddy needlework and rising temper. Somehow Raphael not only failed to join together the fabric, but had created a stitch so crooked and tangled that nothing could be done to reverse his mistakes. The Devil would need to start over. Again. 

He shifted in the wooden seat, raising his hand as he prepared to snap his fingers, hoping to erase the day’s mortification permanently from his memory. Just looking at the wretched garment left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tav cleared her throat, her own scolding gaze rivalled Raphael’s disposition, causing him to lower his hand back to the table. 

Raphael’s seat was still smoking, the top of the wood charred from his last outburst. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the tabletop, small scorch marks growing blacker with the increasing tempo as he waited for Tav to continue.

“No magic, Raphael.” Tav said, the exasperation had disappeared from her tone, only kindness and patience remained, which pained Raphael more. “Now please, try not to melt this needle. It’s my last one.”

Tav placed the needle in her open palm, extending it towards Raphael. 

“I will do my best, but I cannot make any guarantees.” Raphael responded through tight lips, carefully retrieving the needle.

They’d been at it for hours, each minute that dragged on grew heavier on Raphael’s shoulders; weighing him down more than his increasing responsibility to secure the Crown of Karsus. Raphael had watched Tav carefully, making precise notes and calculations on how to anchor a thread and initiate the first stitch, yet his infernal hands could not grasp such a simple mortal notion. 

He must’ve burned over a hundred articles of clothing since he began, slowly depleting Tav of her resources as he struggled to amend his previous errors. He vowed to himself not to leave Tav’s tent until he conquered sewing, until he successfully made himself a basic tunic devoid of any flaws. He would never dare let that little mouse beat him at anything. 

Raphael was practically perfect, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. If he could, he would proclaim it from the highest mountain top for all living beings to hear. The Devil was a master connoisseur, and above all, a jack of all trades. He had to be in this line of work; after all, how else did he get so far without even an ounce of assistance from his beloved father, Mephistopheles? 

He prided himself in his studies, in the relentless work and countless hours of preparation done to lay the foundations for his future. He shadowed only the greatest painters, memorised the intricacies of politics from every realm, and even went so far as to read all the noteworthy books that have been published throughout the millennia; but nothing prepared him for the horrors of being a tailor. The job required an old fashioned sensibility, a delicate handmade approach to see any design through to completion. 

Tav leaned towards Raphael, lightly placing her hands over his in an attempt to guide him. He stiffened slightly at her soft touch as she began to lift his hands. Raphael discretely tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at Tav without bringing anymore attention to himself. 

The Devil needed to concentrate, but he found himself momentarily distracted as his eyes fell on a small pale scar that decorated her chin. Raphael’s high standards for his own appearance allowed him to grow obsessed with others’ imperfections; finding more beauty in mortal flaws than in their perfect physiques or conventional facial features. Tav had a peculiar allure about her that made Raphael’s attraction flourish the longer he spent in her presence.

She brought a dark piece of thread to her lips, wetting the tip of it with her tongue before placing it in Raphael’s hand. He carefully watched the act, something so mundane had a hidden layer of intimacy attached that caused his heart to unexpectedly flutter. 

Raphael took a long deep breath to calm himself, there was a risk Tav might feel his body temperature rise as his heart continued to slam against his chest, beating faster and faster like a cursed infernal engine. He slowly took in Tav’s scent, savouring the notes of cloves and roses, now mixed with just a hint of perspiration.

“OK…” Tav whispered, causing Raphael to unwillingly pull his gaze away from her. “Thread the needle, just like we practised.” 

Tav’s grip tightened as she helped Raphael push the thread carefully through the eye of the needle. She let out a loud sigh as it went through with ease, shocking them both.

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” Raphael responded, dryly.

“You nearly burned down my tent, twice, in the last hour! Please allow me this moment to celebrate.”

Raphael’s nostrils flared as his seat began to smoke underneath him.   

“No offence, of course.” Tav added, quickly taking the thread and needle away from Raphael, “you’ll get it, eventually. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“Bah! Petty mortal idioms are of no use to me. We will continue, I have yet to learn what lies beneath the expertise of your craft.” 

Tav hesitated, cradling the needle and thread in her hands. 

“Listen, how about we take a break, yeah? I’m spent. With any luck you’ll finish this first piece within a fortnight.” 

“And is that how long it typically takes you to complete this type of labour?”

“Gods no! Half a day, maybe one at most. Of course, it depends what else I’ve got going on when I’m not fighting my way through Faerûn.” Tav grinned back at Raphael. 

The Devil held back a gasp. He had wasted an entire day catering to Tav’s ludicrous games and didn’t have a single piece of clothing finished to prove himself. Mortals cannot be trusted, even when their very souls were at stake they’d be foolish enough to risk it all if it meant satisfying their own agendas. 

“I’ve had enough of this blatant display of tomfoolery.” Raphael stood dramatically, pushing back the chair as he walked towards the tent's entrance.

The instant Raphael learned Tav went against her word, having the audacity to craft clothing for anyone but him, he nearly sent a torrent of Hellfire down on her camp. He had discovered the little mouse’s betrayal from Korrilla’s reports, his resentment spreading as he read through the detailed descriptions again and again. Tav had gifted all her companions garments ranging from nightgowns to luxurious capes, outfits that belonged to him. Tav went so far as to give out her clothing for free to random mortals she encountered on her travels. The little mouse had truly taken Raphael for a fool.

Raphael released his blistering rage on Korrilla, blaming the dwarf for her ineptitude and Tav's errors. For every piece of clothing Tav made in breach of contract, he added an extra day to Korrilla’s penance; temporarily stripping Korrilla of all Warlock powers and forcing her to train his latest apprentice, Dolofina. He even denied her use of his healing baths until she truly learned her lesson.  

When Raphael summoned Tav to his House of Hope, demanding an explanation, he was instead met with another proposition. Tav would teach him her craft in exchange for her freedom from the stipulations of their agreement, relinquishing the creative ban Raphael had set in place.

“Just give it another chance. You will soon appreciate the work that goes into making garments, I promise you.”

“These idle promises are waning, little mouse. The terms have yet to be honoured.” 

“Gods, don’t you understand? You will still get exclusive clothing. You think I would dare make another doublet like yours? That was my greatest work, and I only hope to do better with your next piece.” Tav paused, rising to meet Raphael at the entrance. “But I need to make a living.”

“You think life will just return to normal after the Elder Brain is destroyed? A foolish fancy.”

“I have a shop waiting for me in the Lower City, collecting dust. I’ll be damned if I let it go to waste when this is all over.”

“Your little shop is meaningless against what I can offer you in exchange.”

Tav nodded, almost considering the possibility, the future they’d share together.

“As nice as that sounds I’d get bored eventually.”

Raphael titled his head, a smile slowly loosening his lips. He was surprised at how little anger he felt at that moment; in contrast to the fury he experienced throughout the day, a growing warmth rose in his chest. He took a step towards Tav, towering over her as he admired her grit. The little mouse was mighty, ferocious, and would not back down so easily. The Devil was very much looking forward to this fight.

“Mortals, ever so fickle.” 

He placed a hand on his hip, studying the tent that was close to shambles. But of course. It only made sense he failed learning to sew on the first attempt, such mortal professions were beneath him, unbefitting for his station and ability for comprehension. It would require more thought, more time. 

And what more did Raphael need to do in order to impress that creature? He held all the most important cards close to his chest, allowing no one else to peek behind the curtains. Perhaps there was something else he could dangle in front of her? Something more enticing, causing her to drop everything in allegiance to him.

Every great hero has their foibles and Raphael would discover Tav’s soon enough, as he did with all the others that came before her. Not only would he acquire the proper skills of her craft, but he would crack her open, dissecting every inch of that soul in the process.

“Very well. We will continue again at first light. And this time, I expect to leave with a finished tunic.”

[shadowsingerofnight]

This right here is just a little drabble. I had this scene pop into my head and, you know, the following happened. Soooo let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy some nonsense fluff!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ gwynriel drabble

The lights were dim in the bedroom when Azriel made his way through the door. The floor was a mess, clothes and hats and shoes scattered everywhere.

He chuckled, taking in the scene in front of him.

Gwyn was sprawled on the tiny armchair in the corner of the room, face tired but content. She was wearing a party-gown of shimmering emerald, her hair resting on each of her shoulders in such a harmony of colours, a little gasp left his lips.

She gave him the biggest smile and his heart skipped a beat. She was so immensely beautiful.

He grinned back with genuine happiness in his whole body.

“So,” she sighed, dragging the last letter of the word, “we played dress-up today.”

Sat on the floor, Catrin was painting Gwyn’s toes, but seemed to have some trouble keeping the polish just on the nails.

“I can see that,” Azriel replied through a smile that had been permanently plastered on his face for some time now. Rhys and Cassian had thought he had fallen ill the first few weeks.

Gwyn chuckled, her hand covering her mouth.

“Daddy!” Catrin yelled. “Don’t make mommy laugh, she needs to stay still or I can’t work.”

She hadn’t even looked at him but he could see the little concentration lines on her forehead.

Some of his shadows gathered around her wrists as to strengthen her grasp around the polish wand. “Thank you, little ones,” she whispered.

“My star, you’re doing such a great job,” he said.

Big, hazel eyes turned to his own as to inspect if he really meant it and when the scrutiny was over- seemingly pleased, she said, “I know. Aunt Fevre once told me that you don’t always have to stay inside the lines when you create art.”

Gwyn’s gaze softened as she watched their daughter with admiration. Azriel knew very well how she was feeling, the depth of the pride that mirrored his own. Catrin was extraordinary.

They looked at each other for a moment, all the love and trust and hope they felt shining in their hearts.

Then Catrin’s head shot up from her work, her carbon black hair swaying with the movement.

“I have and idea!” She chirped enthusiastically.

“What is it, my love?” Gwyn asked, caressing her cheek. Their daughter smiled, mischief written all over her face.

“I think daddy needs his nails painted as well!”

Azriel and Gwyn burst out laughing at the same time and then he said, “That’s a wonderful idea!”

Catrin laughed too, a sound that was life and joy.

“What colour do you want, daddy?”

Azriel looked at his mate, her eyes full of tears and disbelief at the little cocoon of happiness they had created for themselves and knew the answer deep in his bones.

“Teal, please.”

[desideriumwriter]

Hi,

So I thought about this idea where George comforts Y/N (his girlfriend) when she is on her period🥹

Thanks in advance!

Have a nice day!

Love, Annelies

lmao im writing this on my period, this is such a sweet concept! also i’ve always wondered how periods work in the wizarding world? are there pain numbing potions? does ibuprofen exist??? anyways, tysm for the request hope you enjoy! <3

wc: 855

navi | g.w. masterlist

Right now, dinner in the Great Hall is usually where you’d be, laughing and chatting with friends. However, today you were curled up in your bed, grimacing and holding onto your lower abdomen in pain.

What was just a dull ache an hour ago had now become excruciating cramps.

As soon as you got back from your last class, you changed into pajamas and sunk into your bed. The pain was gnawing at your insides. You shut your eyes and wished for the aching to magically be over.

The door creaked open, you sighed, not wanting any company, and when you turned your head towards the door. A mop of ginger hair peeked in.

“George? What’re you doing in here?” You lifted your head, looking at him with a confused expression.

“I was wondering the same thing, I was looking all over for you in the Great Hall.”

“You can't be in here, you know.” You muttered, you were already confused on how he was able to sneak out of the Great Hall and into the girls bedroom anyways.

“Says who?”

“When have I ever listened to those?” He scoffed playfully, you just smirked and shook your head, too exhausted to carry on a conversation.

“Why aren’t you at dinner anyways?” He said as he sat down next to you.

“I just don’t feel well.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. George’s brows knit in concern.

“You’re sick?” He asked, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“No, not really, just cramps.” You sighed, pulling his hand away and holding it instead.

George’s mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ shape, he took a second before he stuck his hand into his pockets.

“Well, um, I guess the chocolate I may or may not have taken from the table will come in handy, right?” He pulled a few wrapped up sweets from his pocket, handing one out to you.

“Chocolate helps with…you know?” It brought a small smile to your face seeing how awkward yet polite George was when talking about this.

“Periods.” You looked at him amused as you took a chocolate from his hand, unwrapping it and popping it into your mouth. “You can say the word, it’s not a curse.” Having it absolutely feels like it though.

Before George could say anything, another small stabbing pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to grimace and let out a small groan.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head weakly. George frowned, in moments like these, all he wanted to do was help.

“Maybe you could just lay with me?” You suggested, nodding to the space behind you. George happily did as you asked.

If he couldn’t take away your pain, the least he could do was provide some type of comfort.

He shifted and snuggled up behind you, gently wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling your back to his chest. You let out another small groan at the movement, earning a small apology from George.

“Merlin, I wish there was a spell to get rid of this.” Your voice felt strained.

“Have you tried seeing Madam Pomfrey? Maybe she’s got a potion for this.” He said, placing his hands over yours.

“The most she can do is give me a hot wet rag.” You pouted.

“How long do the cramps last? An hour?”

“Usually almost a full day.” You said flatly, George lifted his head up to look at you.

“Are you serious?” He looked genuinely shocked, a bit horrified.

“Sometimes two if it’s bad.” You raised your brows and smiled, finding his wide eyes and knit together brows humorous.

“I’ll never complain again.” He said, you let out a weak chuckle as he placed a kiss onto your temple.

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”

“You could create a sweet that gets rid of cramps.” You half-joked. George let out a small hum, laying his head back down.

“Well, that’d take a few test runs, and Fred and I don’t have…” He trailed off.

“Ovaries?” You finished the sentence for him, less explicit than what he was thinking.

“Yeah. Plus, I doubt any girls around here would be up for doing trial runs.” He tsked. “Maybe I could make a supply kit? A cramp crusade kit.” You began to chuckle.

“That’s what you’d call it? A cramp crusade kit?” You said through your laughter.

“Yeah! Not bad, isn't it?” He nodded from behind you, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re ridiculous.” You shook your head in amusement. George being there didn’t actually take away any of the physical pain, but he did distract you from it.

After your laughter subsided, you grabbed his warm hands and placed them over the tender spots, you let out a small sigh of relief. The warmth was quite pleasant. Your back now felt less tense when you felt his chest rise and fall against it.

“Thanks George,” You breathed out as you closed your eyes. “for being here with me.” Your thumb brushed over his hand.

“Anything for you.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to hair.

tell me what you thought!

[levi501ackerman]

Silly | Hange x Reader Fluff

masterlist

I have this in my head but I'm too lazy to write so bullet points it is

You didn't know anyone in Levi squad most of them came from the southern cadet corp. You are from the north. They all knew each other and to them you were the new one.

You met them along with Captain Levi in a hide out cabin.

They were all very nice and welcoming. You remained reserved and barely spoke.

You roomed with Sasha and Mikasa. They're the ones that hear you talk the most. You felt the most comfortable around them and Armin.

You cleaned well and you were helpful with Eren's titan experiments. Captain Levi took a liking to you. He thought you were intelligent, quiet, respectful and didn’t complain.

While doing an experiment you see a woman you've seen many times along with a man talking to Captain Levi. She and the guy lept down the cliff to pull Eren out of his titan form. You saw this as an opportunity.

"Excuse me, Captain, who's that woman you were just talking to?"

"Section Commander Hange Zoe." Levi said.

You look at her pulling out Eren and screaming.

"Will she be around us, a lot?" You asked politely.

"Why?" Levi asked, you blushed then turned away.

"Just curious, thank you, sir." You walked back to your post seeing Hange pulling Eren all the way out.

"L/N," you looked over your shoulder giving your attention to Levi. "The tea you made last night was good. Please make some tonight."

"Thank you, yes sir."

You made the tea and you made sure to do it perfectly knowing your Captain actually likes it.

While at dinner with everyone you ate your soup and you are in your head like you usually are. You thought of story ideas and some books you've read.

Along with the rest of the table, you laughed at a joke Connie told.

You knew Sasha will always take your left overs and so you passed your bowl of soup to her.

"You're the best! I love you!" Sasha exclaimed.

Later Levi squad are in their rooms and Levi and Hange are talking about tomorrow’s schedule. About an hour later Hange decided she should go to her squad’s hide out cabin.

Levi stays seated at the dining table sipping his tea and rereading plans.

As Hange passed the stairs, you muster out a “Hi.” She turns to you on the stairs and smiled.

“Hi there!” Hange said.

“Section Commander Hange Zoe, right? My names Y/N.” You said descending the stairs and extending a handshake.

“Yes Y/N! Ive heard of you, its nice to formally meet you.” Hange shook your hand and noticed how short you are.

You can’t help blush, but you’ve been wanting to talk to her, so you try your best to continue to conversation. “Your glasses are really cute, they suit you.”

“THANK YOU! I’m practically blind without them!” Hange said beaming. You boldly take them off her face and hold out your hand.

“$100 and you get them back,” you said deadpan. Hange bursted laughing and you laugh too, happy she liked your joke. While you both are laughing you offer her glasses back. “Here.”

“Oh I’m grateful you dropped your ransom.” She put them back on her face..

“Yeah I don't need them since I can see better than you.” You shot back. Hange laughed more, her smile bigger, and because of her contagious laugh and energy you join. She pushed your shoulder playfully.

“Who even are you?” Hange rhetorically managed to ask through her red face and teary eyes starting develop. You feel satisfied that she is enjoying conversing with you.

Levi heard all this from the dining room and is in disbelief that you were saying all this considering you rarely joined conversations. It’s late and he's ready to send you back to bed.

“You’re funny, I can see why Levi picked you to be in his squad,” Hange smiled ear to ear.

“She’s more talkative than usual.” Levi said behind Hange and it made Hange jump. “What’s the reason you’re down here?” He asked.

“I’m sorry Captain, I just wanted to get a drink of water then I ran into section commander Hange and wanted to introduce myself.” You said genuinely.

“Get your water and back to bed. We have early hours tomorrow.” Levi remembered that you were respectful and not a trouble maker like Jean and Sasha.

“Yes, sir."

“You keep chatting to Hange, she might piss herself.” He said.

“Piss for me.” You said while looking into her eyes. Hange cackles throwing her head back then puts a hand on your shoulder holding herself up from doubling over. You giggle then gradually laughed harder. To the point where you both are laughing silently.

Levi stood there with his arms crossed watching this play out. He's confused where this witty side came from. He's wondering how your stupid line is causing you both to cry from laughing.

You're pleased that you're making this extremely cute woman laugh at everything you say. Both of your energies are causing you both to find everything funny.

When you both start calming down. Hange glanced at Levi's expressionless face, she couldn't contain her laughter, causing you to giggle a little more.

"Okay, you go back to your cabin" he said with a slight amusement in his tone. He began pushing Hange toward the door. "You, off to bed."

"It was nice to meet you," you said wishing you could talk to Hange more.

"Goodnight Y/N! I'm glad we officially met!" You feel so satisfied with the outcome as you walk to the sink.

You replay the conversation in your head. You grab a glass and start getting water from the faucet. Hange enjoying your company and having her laugh with you makes you elated. You notice your heart beating out of your chest.

You chug the water and and then refill the glass to take upstairs. You spot Levi standing with his arms crossed, as you turned to start heading upstairs.

"You're secretly weird, aren't you?" Levi asked and you didn't know how to answer it. You couldn't tell if he was mad or wanted a certain answer.

"I'm sorry Captain for the late night disturbance, I'm heading to bed." You said strolling pass him.

"What's with the formalities when you just told a commander to piss for you?"

Author's Note: Finals is over I can write more! I just wanted to get this out cuz I had this idea of a reserved reader with a silly side and just wanting to make hange laugh. I've been thristing over hange these past few weeks lol. Anyways hoped you enjoyed. There's not enough Hange x reader out there I'll make more lol <3

I've also thought of a Reader in Wonderland. They fall in and meet Hange as the Mad Hatter, Armin as McTwisp, and I haven't thought more into it except basically she gotta fuck Hange, fuck Levi in order to escape. Idk Im just horny going on 2 weeks of being single and I want Hange's strap.

I also have a vampire AU in mind but its dirty af and smutty? Lmao

[lxverrings]

Period Comfort.

Self indulgent, Reina is undergoing a bad period era ;-;

Warnings: Mentions of Fainting, Throwing up and Nausea as a result of period, Miguel slightly out of character, you can argue this is him after he’s comfortable w/Reader but... Up to interpretation!

A/N: Fellas... I am suffering. This is for me and the girlies and bros with vajajays and anything in between with tough periods, I had a big test and due to my period I threw up (common occurrence) so now I desperately need self indulgence!!! Yippie! I need Miguel to comfort me on my period </3

Summary: Reader goes through a tough as balls period... Head canons! Slightly spicy at the end? Kind of short but I need to get my thoughts out there, shocking mess <3

Why, just... Why? Tough as nails day, tough as nails everything, why did everything have to be tough as nails but you couldn’t? Oh. Right. The throbbing pain in your uterus was enough to make a grown man scream in pain. Which they should, maybe then they’d stop being such cunts. Either way, the mood swings, the hormones, you felt so lonely you could cry on your way home, making your way inside was a nightmare, and to make things worse, your husband wasn’t really home.

Must be a bad multiversal threat...

Sucked. Sucked. Sucked. You just reheated the pasta leftovers from yesterday, bathed, got into your pjs after changing your underwear protection from whatever sacrificial waterfall of Satan was going on between your legs and whatever sinful punishment your uterus was raining upon you when you just wanted to get by.

Laying down with tears was the least you could do, the stomach ache was causing nausea and... Slowly, slowly, you could feel your consciousness fade away.

Slowly.

...

But surely.

It had been hours til Miguel got home. And as soon as he did, he was expecting a hug and his beloved darling spouse to come over and kiss his rugged face and talk about their day with all their dozen jitters and tellings.

...

But nobody came. (get it? Haha cuz— *gets shot*)

Miguel wandered inside and that strange smell. That whiff of air.

...

Fuck! Fuck.

He really left his darling all alone on their period, almost in a frenzy, he rushed inside, only to watch the slight blood droplets fall from their mouth, totally not terrifying for a man to watch their spouse bleed to an obnoxious degree.

How impolite of your uterus to be that way, no?

Slowly, Miguel wiped off the blood, tapping your cheek and cradling you to his chest.

“Perdóname, amor dulce...* I thought your period was in a week.” He whispered softly, the worry in his eyes palpable as he held you, and with his warmth, it was enough to wake you up and ease the pain.

“... Nn... Miguel? Tú trabajo, amor...*”

“Shh... Yá, yá... Aquí te tengo, amor. Aquí estoy. Ven, qué te me desmayas.*”

Tiredly, you snuggled into your husband, who called off yours and his work, cuddling you and bundling you together in blankets, as he made you some cafecito con leche.* Whatever you asked for, whether it be his warm hands spanning your uterus or a blanket, or hot chocolate, or maybe your favorite movie and your beloved cat, he was there. Anything to make sure you wouldn’t pass out

“I hate it when your period happens.” He grumbled, “It always behaves like a shocking cunt.”

You giggled, of course because it never ceased to amaze you how grumpy he could get.

“So do I, querido.* So do I...”

Naturally, as he would, an idea popped into his mind, “You know, I could always get rid of it for 9 months...”

“No.”

“But—”

“No!” you huffed, “Not yet!”

And your pillow made contact with his face, causing him to chuckle. If anything, maybe these mood swings were cute. He’d give anything to see them when he got you nice and swollen with that baby you promised him... Eventually.

Translations:

Forgive me, sweet love.

Come, you’ll faint on me.

Dear.

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.

Part I: leaving the crime scene.

Part II: the phone call.

Part III: a visit to the morgue.

Part IV: the lunch break.

Beckett stood by the coffee machine, waiting for the last of the espresso double-shot to drip from the machine so that she could pour the perfectly foamed milk into her mug. She was getting better at this; soon enough she'd be able to make herself a cup of coffee to rival Castle's, she was sure of it.

The boys had paraded through the bullpen with Reggie and his body guard only ten minutes ago. Their interrogation was far from over and, with everything panning out the way it had been, Beckett had decided that now was as good a time as ever for a caffeine boost.

Castle evidently had the same idea.

He walked into the break room and moved to take his place by her side. But he stood too close. Too close for at the precinct, anyway.

Out of habit - yes, after only two weeks they had already formed too many habits - his hand came to rest on her lower back and his chest brushed against her shoulder. She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose: trying to drive her crazy with the close proximity, the familiarity of his touch. But she hated having to hold back and it would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't constantly putting her in the position of having to be the one to redraw those boundaries.

With a sigh, she stepped to the side and regretfully created some distance between them.

"You know what I was just thinking?" Castle asked her as he turned and leaned back against the bench.

"That it's always the nice guy athlete that lets you down?" she mused with just a hint of bitterness.

Castle frowned. "There's obviously a backstory to that snide remark," he commented curiously. She looked at him, waited for the hounding questions but he shook his head. "No. I was thinking..." He allowed his voice to trail off as he stepped closer to her. After just a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone, he looked at her with a mischievous grin. "It's almost lunch time."

Beckett looked at him, waited for him to maybe continue on with that train of thought. Instead, he just waggled his eyebrows.

"And?"

"And, I just happened to leave my packed lunch at home this morning."

She frowned; since when did Castle pack a lunch? But then she realized what he was suggesting. "So you'll be needing to go home to get it."

Castle smiled, took another small step in her direction. He was invading her space again; the smell of his cologne too alluring to ignore and she - for the second time that day - abandoned her coffee.

"I was hoping that maybe you could give me a lift?" he asked, still playing this game he had obviously decided he liked. "You know, save me the hassle of trying to hail a cab."

"You seem to have forgotten the case we're working on. The one that is far from solved," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "Gotta take your mandated break, right?"

"And you want me to spend my break playing taxi for you?"

"I promise to make it worth your while."

[nukabrain]

Secrets NOT Worth Holding

PROMPT: After hearing some news that sounds like Charles doing, Y/N storms back into camp to question him. He doesn’t easily give up the information, so Y/N tries a different approach. 

PAIRING: Charles x Reader TYPE: Male x Female Reader WRITING: borderline smut? It gets steamy for sure.  WARNINGS: Suggestive.  WORD COUNT: 0.4k

NOTES: AHHH 150 NOTES?? WTF YALL THANK YOU!! I also had this idea stuck in my head for awhile. ONCE AGAIN, found this prompt on instagram!! I also wanna let yall know that REQs ARE OPEN! Request anything you want, and 9/10 I will write it. I might come out with a prompt list sooner or later.

“Charles! Where are you?” Y/N calls. Hearing rustling noises, she turns around and sees Charles in his tent.

“Over here dear, is there something wrong?” He lifts the tent flap, letting you in. 

“I heard some… chatter during my walk in the city.”

Charles plops on his bed and rubs his neck. “What type of gossip did you hear from the city, half of it is nonsense anyways.” 

Y/N huffs and crosses her arms. “I heard that someone killed a pair of bison hunters, now normally I wouldn’t assume every dead body is from you guys, but this one felt a little… familiar.” She lingers on the last word, side-eyeing Charles.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about sweetpea. I’m not the only one who dislikes bison hunters.” He responded, picking up his gun and started to clean it. 

“Y’know, you always kept your hands occupied when you had something to hide.”

Charles flinched “I haven’t cleaned my rifle in days, and I planned to clean it today anyways.” 

Y/N had enough of him dodging answers. She knew it was a 90% chance that Charles shot the bison hunters. She wasn’t even upset, just wished he did the job a little more discreetly. 

If regular questioning isn’t working, Y/N is gonna get the information out of him, her style.

She slides her hand onto Charles shoulder, leaning close into his ear, making his breath hitch. 

“I’m not mad love, just tell me if you did it or not.”

He chuckles, before whispering back “Still don’t know what you’re talking about dear.” 

That stubborn idiot.

“I’m sure you do.”  She mumbles back.

Y/N kissed his neck, her lipstick staining his skin. She makes her way to the collarbone causing Charles to grip her dress while biting his lip. Smiling, she sneaks her hand under his shirt and runs her nails along his back, eliciting a moan from the man.

“So, it was you who killed the bison hunters hmm?” she questions again, biting his earlobe.

Charles was in a daze, skin on fire and every thought turned into mush. He mumbles a yes before burying his head onto her shoulder.

Y/N laughs, and runs her hand through his hair. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it love?”

Charles didn’t lift his head out of embarrassment, knowing that all it took was a few kisses for him to let down his defenses. 

[i-smoke-chapstick]

'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART THIRTEEN]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Reader doesn't know what to do about the kiss. Selina might help.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) He's fallen harder. Selina's tweaking. No Jervis this chapter. Reader is STRESSING. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. They are in love guys everyone shhh. Reader is just being a little silly. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom @sweetlimeharvest @frenchfryqueen69

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - 'PART FIVE, - 'PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN' - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, - 'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN,

♫ “And if you were my little girl, I'd do whatever I could do. I'd run away and hide with you.” Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood

You leave the room with a small exhale. You still feel him. The taste of his lips, the grip he held on you. Tight. Like you would slip away at any second. It was excruciating to leave. Horrible idea. Now all you can do is think about him. The look in his eyes, the feeling of the fire. You're pacing around your room.

God, kissing Mr. Tetch was probably revenge enough on your father. Stop, stop, stop. Don't feel guilty. Your thoughts are a million a minute, and you can't help but flop on the bed.

"You okay?" A voice calls, taking you out from your thoughts. Selina's back, to do her nightly check-up. You heave a breath.

"Yeah, fine." You can feel her piercing gaze on you, looking you up and down.

"You're such a liar. What the hell did that freak do?" She says, and you feel you're heart tighten at the mention of Mr. Tetch.

"Don't call him that." You say, beside yourself. You can see her baffled expression transform into a scoff. She clicks her tongue and throws her hands up.

"Um, okay? Are you insane? He tried to kill you." She tuts. She can see right through you.

"So?"

"So?" She repeats, staring at you like you're stupid. "Please don't tell me you're starting to warm up to him?"

More then that, you think. You kissed him.

"I don't know," You speak, truthfully.

"You don't know. Yeah, you're an idiot." Her words carry a bite. If Selina's this angry, you can't seem to imagine how angry your father will be. Shouldn't that make you happy? You swallow and twiddle your thumbs. You sigh into the pillows.

You motion Selina to sit down with you, and she shoots you a look, before sitting down.

"He's not horrible. He's kind of nice."

Before Selina can state the obvious 'he tried to shoot you!' you manage to fire back in time.

"AND...who cares? Selina- listen to me. Tabitha and my mom have shot at each other. So have my dad and mom! And Tabitha and Butch...god, you've tried to push Bruce off a roof a few times!"

Her expression flushes at the mention of Bruce, before it darkens underneath your stare.

"Those are all romantic examples." She notes, and you don't quite understand what she means, until it clicks. Every example you picked, the people were romantically connected. She noticed. "Holy shit." She speaks in a whisper, eyes widening. You hold in a breath.

"Selina-"

"EW. Gross!" She immeadiatley whisper-yells, and you shove a hand over her mouth. You two fight for a second before she pins you on the bed. "He's old enough to be your dad!"

You roll your eyes. Selina scoffs. You stay silent underneath her scrutinizing gaze, not sure if you should be offended or take note of what she's saying. Either way, it feels good to finally tell someone, negative reaction or not.

She shoves you lightly, groaning.

"I just don't understand. He wears a top hat." Her tone turns lighter after clearing her throat, trying to make at least an effort to understand. You exhale.

"Yeah yeah. Whatever. He makes me breakfast."

"Wow, your standards."

"Shut up!" You laugh, and you notice the corners of her mouth twitch up.

"So what? You don't want to kill him anymore?" You forgot that's what she thinks you came here for. You bite your lip. Better not to let her know you've been lying about something else, too.

"Yeah. Basically. I've kind of just been staying with him."

"Pfft. You think he's caught on to your school girl crush?"

Images of the kiss flash in your head. The way he traveled down from your jaw, to the nape of your neck. The way he gently tugged on your hair and groaned into your lips.

"I don't know. I don't think so." You lie through your teeth. Damn it.

"Good. He's a creeper."

"Watch it."

She puts her hands up in mock defense.

"You know, you're going to have to come back to the club eventually. Tabitha's going crazy. Barbara too. They miss you. Butch misses his drinking buddy too, or whatever. He's been more depressed then usual."

You cringe, and you sigh.

"I don't want my dad to know I'm alive." The words come out before you have a chance to stop them. She furrows her eyebrows. "I mean, how do I even explain where I've been?"

"You come up with some lie. Just...come back. Let them know you're okay. You know they can keep a secret from Gordon of all people. They'd do anything for you."

You feel warmth bloom in your chest, a strange squeeze of affection for your mother, Tabitha, and Butch. Maybe it's time you stop reminiscing on what your family could've been...and start talking to the family you have.

You nod to Selina, sighing.

"I'll come by tomorrow. I promise. Thank you for keeping this a secret."

Selina clicks her tongue.

"Whatever. I just don't want you to try and kill me."

You send her a grin, and try to shove her off the mattress again. You briefly wonder what Mr. Tetch will have to say tomorrow.