#and it’s soooooo funny how i never go out and how i never have any money and i can’t take care of myself or be trusted to live alone

[widevibratobitch]

.

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew. 

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.” 

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 

The way he says it you believe him. 

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along,  but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today. 

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

[caitlinbueckers]

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

[indulgentdaydream]

Hello luv, first of all... I LOVE NURSE!READER!!! OH god the last lines were soooooo heartwarming for my social worker heart!! LOVE LOVE IT 🩷🩷

So, may I request a Jason x reader again but with a little something... Jealous Jason because reader and Roy know each other longer than Jay and reader and then he gets all jelly and and—! Oh god I love a jealous petty man.

Missy when she fucks up the queue and queues this post for NEXT YEAR by accident 🫣🙃 NEXT YEAR?? LIKE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED LAST FRIDAY AND I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THAT IT DIDN'T GO UP

anyways AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH your words are already heartwarming ♥️

I loveeee jealous jason imma cook this up so quick just you wait and see (i wrote this when i first made the draft and i found it funny to leave it. It’s literally been a month I’m so sorry)

I also made this into headcanons because I had a VISION and did not think to give it any justice. (koi youre seriously my number 1 supporter i hope you enjoy this garbage I just threw up, really)

Pining!Jealous!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: slight jealousy (not too overly consuming), alcohol consumption

Roy had invited Jason to hang out at the bar

Bros being bros

except...

Roy brought you along (because he KNOWS Jason has got a fat crush on you whether or not he’s told him)

(He tried to convince roy it’s not a crush, but always fails because his whole demeanour changes when you walk in the room)

examples:

he's always going to be standing beside you, consciously or not

jason isn't always a tense guy. But he for sure isn't as long as you're talking to him/looking at him/etc. (but if you put your hand on his arm/touch him in any way, it's game over)

your name is brought up, he's listening SO INTENTLY

like a dog when it hears its favourite word

Anyways

The three of you are sitting in a booth

It was originally you and roy before jason showed up, the two of you on either side

Jason shows up and just sits right next to you. No hesitation.

You and roy are laughing away, recounting stories and telling jokes.

Jason is just... really quiet

unusually quiet

He doesn’t look at you guys, rather looking out across the bar, trying to hide the fact he’s feeling this way

That he's feeling unreasonably jealous of his best friend

who literally brought you FOR JASON

He knows it’s stupid. He trusts both of you. You two are the two people he trusts the MOST

He hates that he’s like this, but he can't help it

Roy's better than him. You've known him for longer. He's making you laugh harder than Jason ever has. He's better looking, too. Older. More experienced.

His thoughts are clogging up his head. He's really not listening anymore, just holding his beer, eyes scanning the bar floor, watching the other patrons.

Then Roy is standing in front of him, saying something about using the bathroom.

He is giving a VERY pointed look at Jason.

a "make conversation with your crush or I'm shoving an arrow down your throat" kind of look

Jason felt a little stab of genuine anxiety shoot through him.

He's talked to you alone before. Many times. You two were friends, of course. He doesn't know why this is how he's feeling right now.

Then your hand is resting on his forearm.

Poor boy is still so caught up in his head he just looks down at your hand for definitely a second too long before finally meeting your gaze

Your gaze with those stupidly pretty eyes.

Then comes that horrendously pretty voice, "You alright?"

He nods. Shrugs. Like a stupid teenager who doesn't know how to handle his emotions.

He has to admit he's still a little tense about your attention being focused more on Roy. But not to you. He'd never admit it to you. You'd probably find it unattractive and then he'd really never have a chance.

“Yeah, no, im enjoying the talking. Always forget how well you and roy know each other”

“Oh yeah he just knows how to get me going. You know how he is”

Jason doesn’t know how he does it.

Like some leap of faith.

Some, jealousy super-powered leap.

He tries to be non-chalant about it.

“It’d be nice to do this again sometime. Maybe without Roy around.”

BOY'S HEART IS POUNDING

Sipping on his beer, looking down at it instead to avoid eye contact with you so he doesn't lose his cool.

Or someone show on his face that he is actually shitting bricks

You don't respond for a second and the alarm bells start going off in his head

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY-

"It would be nice," you say, "Could we make it a date instead?"

He's smiling, turning to nod at you, "Course we can."

But his internal dialogue is just straight screaming at himself

"IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE MADE IT OBVIOUS YOU WANTED IT TO BE A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE"

The things jealousy will make you do

Roy comes back and sits down

Jason's into the conversation now

It doesn't really matter that Roy is still making you laugh

because he's not the one holding your hand under the table

AH I HOPE YOU LIKE -missy

I also love a jealous petty man (as long as it doesn't become toxic and he doesn't use it as an excuse to be an asshole)

[aq2003]

(@variousqueerthings he's so melodramatic and sad. it's soooooo </33)

[transcript:

"i said. i was fine. fine about you leaving. aand.. i'm not. so many of you have come and gone, i never get used to it, think i would've done by now but-but-but. No... just when i think it's all going well, we'll be together forever, you're wandering off to go save another universe or get married—how do you lot fall in love so quickly?"

"well, funny you should say that—"

"i just don't get it. but ehhh, short lives, i suppose. still, so long as you're happy, and you're with the right man, and—he is the right man? Eeehhh—yEs he is yes he is 'course he is, of COUrSe he is, and i mean, i mean, well, no man is gonna be good enough for my donna but YES yes [inhales] off you go! every time, one of you leaves. i'm not ready! i never am, you lot. uuUUhgh. [deep breath]. every one of you, a heartbreaker—"

"that's why you've got two of them, stupid. listen—"

"yeah, i suppose, but it doesn't... make it any easier, you all leave... even the robot dog left me. twice!"

"alright, doctor, i am trying to—"

"and another thing! the universe just never gives me a break! a chance to lick my wounds, a spa day, maybe? but aw, no, Giant Cloud Of Alien Death. well, fine. i'll sort that out. [inhales] one more thing. so many more things. never NEVER never ends."

/end transcript]

[wintersera]

12 — help me out (half written)

as soon as you walk out of class you were met with a shorter girl excitedly waiting with her books in her hands. she was tapping her feet really REALLY fast with a goofy ass grin plastered on her face.

“i thought you were gonna wait outside college? what are you doing outside my class?” you giggled a little, seeing her eyes light up from seeing you in front of her.

oh you thought a little.. she’s kinda cute

“OH? sorry i got a little too excited, i don’t usually have people coming around my house”

“aww that’s okay. but excited to study? i’ve never seen someone so enthusiastic about working on a project before. it’s kinda cute and funny to see how you’re so happy about this”

you noticed something, luckily she was too ecstatic to even realise because she would’ve been severely embarrassed, but by the way she jumped at your comment made your heart pang.

“so your house right?”

“yup! it’s not too far from here so we can walk there”

“perfect, my legs have been hurting from last night… god”

“what did you so last night that made them hurt that much?” tilting her head a little, just like a puppy.

“i ran around my neighbourhood like a lunatic. that wolf needs to be found- like what if it’s cold and lonely? but at the same time i’m thinking it’s good that she escaped, because imagine the mom came after me… thinking about it makes me shiver”

“oh.. ah yeah the wolf”

“you’re not gonna berate me like my friends did right?”

“no no, i find it nice that you took in an animal. seems like you really care about it”

“of course i do! poor puppy was cold and injured- i had to do something”

with that conversation flowing you both drifted out to the exit. minjeong smiling and laughing at your silly little rants about whatever came to your mind at the time.

—

she was right. for some reason her house was really really damn close to the college. the walk was actually really relaxing, you and minjeong just talking like you were old friends who were catching up with eachother until- BOOM you were at her front of her door.

“oh by the way- parents aren’t in so you can relax and do whatever BUT of course, don’t break anything”

“cool i’ll definately make myself comfortable. so… where’s you room jeongie?”

“ah- uh… haha upstairs” you made yourself reaalll comfortable in her house, walking up the stairs with no hesitation after you took of your shoes and then eventually out of minjeongs line of sight. with you outside her visions, she whipped out her phone and quickly opened the bird app.

you wondered why she took so long to come into her room, feeling a little bit perplexed by the rooms location you called out her name- “jeongie help me find your room”

“oh yeah sure. let me just-“ walking up the stairs and guiding you to where her room is “you can sit here and get ready i’ll just be getting some snacks for us”

“SNACKS?”

—

and now you were here, studying at her desk, while she looks over your shoulder with curiosity, stumbling a little while she’s standing.

“soooooo… what have you planned out?”

“eehhh nothing much actually, i’m just outlining this one thing and then we can wing it? i think?? i dont know jeongie.. do you have any ideas?”

…..

“jeongie?” her sudden silence was odd. why did she suddenly go quiet? you questioned if she even fainted, but no she didn’t. she stood there silently. her eyes darting around the rooms, hands clutching her shirt and panting heavily. was she about to have a panic attack- “jeongie are you… okay?”

“yeah… um… i feel r-really really weird and hot right now? i don’t know i feel funny… like really funny” her cheeks were flushed, bright red. she didn’t look like she had the flu so why… was she like this? you placed your palm on her forehead checking the temperature and god was she hot. there were no symptoms of her having the flu previously… strange, you thought.

“mmm… y/n… feels so weird…” she looked at you, like as if she was asking you for something. she had those begging puppy eyes that melted your heart and shattered them into tiny little fragments.

“do you need me to call someone? like a friend of yours or something or maybe even the ambulance?? like are you okay?”

“i- i dont know…” stammering as she tried her absolute best not to look you in the eye “i… i think i’ll be okay i just? i feel strange… it’ll pass…”

“uh… okay just say what you need and i’ll get it for you”

there was a prolonged silence. your mind was dropped into a silent panicked state, what could you do to help her out if she didn’t know what she was feeling? let alone your lack of knowledge of what exactly she was feeling. again, you believed she was having a sudden panic attack. i mean they do come at random occasions so that could be it right?

not even a few seconds pass by and her fingertips played with the collar of your shirt. you were still sat down of course, but with your chair swivelled around to see minjeong.

…what on earth is she doing?

“it’s weird.. i really know it is but… i can’t stop thinking about you right now…. all i can think about is you and i don’t know why”

frozen in confusion and maybe even shock, you had no idea what she was on about. she was kinda acting weird, scratch ‘kinda’, she was weird… yet strangely cute.

“what…? what do you want me to do about that information?”

“…help me out…” her breath shakey as she spoke.

a/n: ARE THEY ABOUT TO FU-

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[princesspastel8]

Chapter 8: Finally

Dipper POV

Once we appear not to fair from the shack, I notice the trace of unicorn hair glued to the base around the shack. "Damnit..." I mubble, also noticing those two idiotic police officers.

"....I remember that one..." Bill said, pointing at the tall one. "Can I kill him after all of this?"

I shrug, not understanding why he asked. "Sure. I don't care... just how are we -....oh." When I begin to think of a plan, the two began to make out.

"I've seen a lot of things pinetree...but that's a first." Bill said in a disgusted tone.

I chuckle, watching the back door of the shack open. To my luck, it's Mable. I smirk, looking at Bill. "You know what to do."

Bill smiles wickedly as he floats. "Now, this is going to get interesting." He said before disappearing.

Bill POV

I appear behind a tree, not too fair, from shooting star. I hear her mubble sorrow filled wishes. How hilarious.

"Wh-Why....it was one mistake....r-right?....I just want my old life back... I want mom and dad back.. I want Pacifica back! H-how can I see them again?" She questions out loud. Well, that's my cue.

I grace my presence in front of shooting star with a wicked smile. "I think I might know a way."

Her eyes widen in fear. She quickly stands, trying to run back into that dusty shack, but I stop her. I grab her wrist, squeezing it tightly. "Why in such a rush shooting star? Thought you'll be glad to see me!"

She opens her mouth to scream, but I snap my fingers, her lips turning into a zipper. I grab the end, zipping up her lips as I laugh. "Shhhhhhh, wouldn't want to let everyone know I'm here, right? Scream, and I'll rip your tongue out. We clear?"

She quickly nods her head. I snap my fingers, making the zipper disappear. "Great! Now, I'm sure that little brain of yours understands why I'm here."

"Th-the rift..." She stutters, trying to pull away, but I tighten my grip even more.

"Ding ding ding! I'm not an unreasonable dream demon, so I offer you a deal. You provide me your vessel to get the rift, and I'll grant you a way to see all of your dead loved ones."

Mable stares at me hesitantly. "B-but if I give you the rift you'll-"

"Weirdmageddon for the second time? Take over this world? Yes, and yes! But why do you care? You lost everything! Do you think your old farts are getting any younger? Give it a few weeks, and I'm sure they'll both be dead. But you don't have to worry, right? You'll be able to see them once they past and the ones that gave birth to you! So shooting star, it's a deal?" I said, letting go of her wrist as my hand arups into blue flames.

She lowers her head in shame as she sobs. She shakes my hand as I begin to laugh maniacally. I rip her soul out of her body, my form turning into one as well. I enter her body, taking one step and then another. "Wow, shooting star, your body is weird! What are these things on your chest?" I question.

"Wait, no! Bill, I change my mind! G-give me back my body!" She begs, but I laugh.

"A deal's a deal shooting star. Catch you later!" I said, walking towards the door. I grab the handle and laugh. I quickly pull back and frown. "Ah! Pain! It's hilarious to be safe! Well, pinetree was smart for having a backup plan."

"What?! Dipper is here with you? Where is he?!" She shouts as I smile.

I didn't respond. I walk back to pinetree with a heavy sigh. "Soooooo....phase two?"

Dipper POV

"Well, would you look at that. I was right. Never make fun of my plans again."

"Ok, ok! So snappy..." Bill said and pouts.

I roll my eyes, flipping through my journal. I come across a spell I learned not too long ago. "Here it is." I point to the writing. "I'll use this to summon that printer, I'm sure they didn't throw it out. I'll make a clone of myself and cause a distraction while I sneak into the back door of the lab. You just stand by. With Mable out of the way, our chances of getting caught went down."

Bill begins to laugh as I raise an eyebrow. "What's funny?"

"You're sister. She won't stop crying and yelling your name. She's right next to you trying to get your attention! Ahahahaha!"

I look up and see nothing. I smirk, "Now she knows what it feels like to be invisible and worthless. Anyways, let me get the printer here." I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I summon the object in need. To carry out the objective at hand. In order to complete my diabolical task. Bring forth the printer to place on my mask!"

Nothing happened until I hear something crash down behind us. I take a peek at the two officers and roll my eyes. The two are still enjoying their heavy make-out session. "How did they not hear that?" I question to myself. I look at Bill, tossing him my journal.

He holds his hand to grab it, but it hits him in the face. Bill laughs, "Oh pain! Shooting star, your reflexes are so slow!"

I roll my eyes and open up the busted down printer. I lay myself down, closing my eyes. "Close it, Bill." I said, and he closes it.

The green neon light scans over my body twice. I push the top up and lower myself down. I watch the paper come out the other end as my clone emerges from the paper. "Alright, Tyrone. You know the plan, don't you?"

"Uh... yeah. I'm you, Dipper." Tyrone said with a chuckle at the end. He looks at Bill. "Let's go, dorito." He said while walking towards the shack.

Bill looks at Tyrone then at me. "Really pinetree? Tyrone? Of all names?" He questions with a raised eyebrow.

I shrug. "It's a name I always wanted. Now go put on a little show so this world can be ours."

Bill smiles. "Sir, yes, sir!" He said before saluting me.

Tyrone runs up to the police officers and knocks both of them out with a punch to the back of their heads. He grabs Bill, who's still inside Mable's body. "Some protection you have grunkle Stan and Ford!"

I quickly run to the other side of the shack, hiding behind a tree close to the back door. I see Stan and Ford rush out of the shack, but I don't see Wendy. I'll have to be mindful of her.

"Grunkles! Help me, please!" I hear Bill beg through mable's voice, making me chuckle. It's pretty good acting.

I rush inside, closing the door as quietly as I can. I glance around while speed walking to the vending machine. Right when I'm about to punch in the code, I hear footsteps behind me. I pretend to not notice before turning around and punching whoever it was. Not to my surprise, it's Wendy.

She steps back and coughs, glaring at me. "What are you doing here, Dipper?"

"My my, you lost your skills over the years, huh? You used to take punches and still fight. Anyways, be a good little red head and - "

She cuts me off by trying to throw a punch to my face. I grab her fist, twisting her wrist. I pull her towards me, letting go of her fist. I use my elbow to hit her in the back of her head, knocking her out. Her body falls to the ground with a loud 'tub'. I look towards the front, making sure those two idiots are still outside and they are.

I smirk, quickly punching in the code. I wait for the doors to open before running down. I stop, noticing a faint glow of red on the ground and the walls. "Security system? Nice one, Ford...nice." I said in annoyance. "My bag isn't here.....I'm sure there's flower in the kitchen. I need to see the lines better." I said while rushing back inside the kitchen.

I grab a bag of flower and walk back down. I reach in for a hand full and throw it at the dim red lines. Slowly, the red lines on the ground becomes more clear. "Now the next step....being as flexible as possible."

I place my journal in the back of my pants, slowly walking under and around the red lines. "damnit, this is hard!" I shout in frustration.

I notice a sheet of paper tapped to the wall next to a drawing of Bill. "How to...turn a human into a dream demon? Wow, Ford, I think your age is finally affecting your brain. That will be extremely useful to me..." I said, slowly reaching for the paper.

I didn't notice a red line barely shining in front of the paper. My eyes widened, but it's too late. My finger touched the line, causing a loud horn to go off all over the shake. "Fuck this!" I shout, grabbing the paper and quickly running towards the rift.

Before I cad get to it, I hear a gun go off. I turn around, and my eyes widen slightly. "Tyrone!" I shout.

"I'm fine, Dipper. Just hurry up and get the rift! Before Ford does something to Bill!"

"But you -"

He cuts me off. "You know my weakness! A bullet won't kill me! Now hurry up!" He orders.

I nod my head, running further down the lab. "When did this lab get so huge?!" I come across a steal door with a key code. Damnit, Ford! I left the flower in the front. I have to find something similar to it!" I rush around, trying to find any type of white dust to use.

I notice a small bag labled 'fairy dust'. I quickly grab the bag, running back to the door. I throw the dust onto the keypad, fingerprints appearing on four different numbers. "Now for the hard part." I said, trying different patterns of the four numbers.

"Dipper, hurry up! He's coming!" I hear Tyrone shout in pain along with more gun shots.

I take in a deep breath, the screen over the key pad telling me I only have one more try. "This time...will be different." I said, keying in the last pattern I haven't tried.

My eyes widen, hearing the lock to the door come undone. I pull the door open quickly, not wasting any time to grab the rift. I turn around, greeted by Stanley. My eyes widen, but I smile nonetheless. "You're too late, grunkle Stan!" I see Tyrone standing behind Stan.

"I can't believe you, Dipper...why would you do something like this?! That damn triangle is only using you!"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Oh Stanley... you shouldn't have let your guard down....now!" I shout at Tyrone.

I watch as he jumps on Stan back, pushing him down to the ground. I hear a crack, "Ah! My metal hip!" He said in pain.

"Hope you brought enough gold to last you the rest of your lifetime." I said, walking over the two. "Because when Bill and I reform this planet, gold will be the last thing you'll get your hands on." I laugh while slowly walking out of the lab and towards the front of the shack.

I walk outside with a bright smile, chuckling at Bill flying around and Ford chasing after him. "Darn, you Bill!"

"Enough fooling around Bill. Turn back into yourself." I said loud enough to gain their attention.

"Great work, pinetree!" Bill cheers, leaving Mable's body to fall to the ground.

"Bill could've given you the world, Ford. Infinite power, fame, and riches. But you would rather play hero. Tsk tsk tsk. It's too bad for you, but it's great for me!" I said, dropping the rift onto the ground, enjoying the sound of it breaking.

"Dipper no! Do you have any idea what you've done!"

"Uh yeah, become one step closer to ruling the world. While you take big steps towards your grave."

I watch as gravity falls transform into a world straight out of the weirdest side of hell. I begin to float alongside Bill, who has the biggest smile stretched across his face. "Oh, pinetree! It's finally happening!"

I chuckle, holding onto him as his demon friends fall from the sky. "Yeah, for the second and last time."

"Dipper! You foolish child! He's only using you! You're just his puppet!"

"Puppet? PUPPET?!" I burst into a fit of cackles. "Oh, Ford. Don't lump me in the same pile of fools' Bill used over his lifetime. The only difference is that I'm able to give Bill what he wants. And you unintentionally gave me something I wanted." I hum while pulling the sheet of paper from my pocket. "Thank you so much for the instructions on how to become an unstoppable dream demon!"

Bill raised an eyebrow in interest. "Oh wow, sixxter. Nice going!" He laughs mockingly.

Ford eyes widen in fear. "No...." He looks at Mable, her face covered in shame.

"This is....a-all my fault!" She cries.

"For once, you're right about something. Take my thanks, it'll be the only time you hear me say it. Thanks Mable, for being a complete selfish bitch and giving me a chance at true happiness!" I cheer.

Bill snaps his fingers as the confetti appears over the two. "CONGRATULATIONS!! For being stupid meatsacks! Here, have deer teeth as my thanks." Bill said while pulling teeth from a deer's mouth and throwing it at them.

I roll my eyes and smirk. "Let's go have some fun."

"Gladly." He said as we begin floating towards his castle.

He places me down at the doorstep as he flies in, greeted by his demon friends. I smile softly, turning around to look down at gravity falls now covered in complete weirdness.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in, enjoying the smell of blood and sadness. I blow the breath I'm holding out as I open my eyes. "There's no place like home..."

[multifandomslxt]

YAY!!!! I AM SOOO HAPPY YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AHHHHHHJRIOWRIWIER LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOO

Okay so I was wondering if you could write up a lil sum about reserved reader who keeps to herself yet finds herself in a poly relationship with Haechan and Yangyang. She isn't a loner by any means. She has her solid group of friends but she doesn't really go out besides to work, the gym or grab lunch with her friends. She's just super introverted. I wonder what that dynamic would look like among the three of them. Maybe you could write about a specific scenario like them encouraging her to dress up and go out with them to the club i guess BUT THEN OMG WHEN SHE FINALLY AGREES they think she looks soooooo fine and shit in her short ass skirt or dress WHATEVER and they bend that ass OVA

FUN GAMES

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N": I'm so sorry this took so long anon. I wanted it to be good and I was having writer's block. I hope you enjoy<333 SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS :)

Pairing: Yangyang x Haechan x afab!Reader

Warning: SMUT!, slapping, mentions of spit and C*m, daddy, degradation... That is all I can remember.

"Just wear it," YangYang, your boyfriend of three years, pleaded.

His face was red, and his hands moved about in understandable frustration as he had been trying to convince you to wear a short dress for the last 10 minutes or so.

"But it's-" you began to protest, finding another excuse as to why you didn't think it's a good idea.

"C'mon, doll, don't be like that," Haechan, your other boyfriend of three years, interrupted. He leaned against the doorway of your shared bedroom, looking as good as always in his black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and glasses perched on his nose.

"We picked it out specifically for tonight. I know it's a bit outside of your comfort zone, but that's how you break out of your shell, baby," he said as he entered the room, slowly going behind you and embracing you in a back hug.

"We just want our baby to shine," Yang Yang joined, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You thought for a moment before giving in. "Fine."

Three hours later, you were ready.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, giving yourself a once-over before heading downstairs to meet your boyfriends in the living room.

You got to the bottom of the stairs and saw both of their backs turned to you.

"I'm ready," you said timidly, already second-guessing your outfit choice.

Haechan was the first to turn around.

"Finally, I thought... fuck," he looked you up and down.

Yang Yang turned around and shared the same exclamation. "Fuck, baby."

"Let's go," you said in an attempt to cover up your shyness.

"I don't think we have to go anymore," Yang Yang said, his eyes never leaving you once.

"Doll, let's stay home. I guarantee you I won't make it 5 minutes in the car before I rip that dress off and fuck you raw," Haechan strained, now shamelessly palming his crotch.

"Funny, in my case, you wouldn't have even walked through the door," Yang Yang smirked.

"Come here," he beckoned to you.

You walked over to him, well aware of the mess being made between your legs.

"Do you want to go, or should we stay and have some fun?" he asked softly.

"It's your call, baby," Haechan finished.

You closed your eyes momentarily.

"I wanna stay."

You looked up at Yang Yang to see the hesitant grin.

A rip.

Another rip.

And another.

That's how you ended up standing in your living room before your boyfriends, dressed only in underwear.

"My pretty little slut," Yangyang teased, undoing his belt.

"Wanted to stay home to get your tight little hole fucked and filled, huh?" he gritted out.

His large hands grabbed you by the nape of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss.

He bit your bottom lip and squeezed your neck a little harder, causing you to moan into the kiss.

You both pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting your lips.

Feeling a bit dizzy from the kiss and a bit overwhelmed by the dull ache between your legs, you let out a shaky breath.

Yang Yang's head was now buried in the crook of your neck as his fingers started to slowly trail down your abdomen, making their way to the heat pooling between your legs.

"I want to hear you," he whispered, his breath hitting your neck and somehow making you feel more heated than you already were.

Without further warning, he pulled your underwear to the side and started to play with your clit.

"A-ah Yang- wait," you whined, mindlessly grinding your hips desperate for more pleasure.

A sharp slap replaced the once-circular movement of his hand, causing you to jolt.

"I didn't tell you to fucking move. I just said I wanted to hear you," he gritted out.

"Yes, sir," you said, knowing just how rough he could get.

He was the soft one of the two of your boyfriends, but you knew exactly how harsh he could get when you guys were having sex.

"Good girl" he said as he inserted a finger, slowly fucking into you.

You knew he was delaying your orgasm for as long as he could.

You could feel the strength leaving your legs, causing them to buckle.

Yang Yang, in response, began to quicken the pace of his finger, causing you to be momentarily dizzy.

"Fuck! Oh God- I'm gonna cum, Yang!" you screamed out, feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, slut?" Yang taunted, knowing that your jolts and shaky legs indicated that you were about to do exactly that.

"Ask me nicely," he taunted further. He always did this, and it always had that same pussy-clenching effect on you.

"Fucking beg me, and I just might let you," he held your gaze as his finger fucked into you.

Feeling your knees buckle and that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach, you put on your prettiest voice—your most submissive one—his favorite.

"Please, Daddy, please make me cum. I'll be good, I promise. P-please..." you cried out, tears already rolling down your cheeks.

"Atta girl," he snickered.

"Cum for me, pretty," and you did just that, the feeling so intense you lost consciousness of your surroundings for a bit.

Tuning back in, you heard Haechan's moans loud and oh so clear - as he jerked himself off to the sight of you and Yang Yang.

Yang Yang let you out of his grasp as he began to mirror Haechan's actions.

His grunts were softer and desperate, whereas Haechan's were animalistic and loud.

"Come here and suck this dick, baby," Haechan grunted out, his pretty fingers still wrapped around his shaft, glistening with precum.

You walked over to him and immediately dropped to your knees, opening your mouth widely.

Just the way he likes it.

"Remember to breathe through your nose, baby," is all he said before he took a handful of your hair and thrust his dick into your mouth.

You gagged as it hit the back of your throat.

He ruthlessly fucked your mouth, not caring that your eyes were watering or that spit bubbles and snot were covering his dick.

Eventually, he pulled his dick out of your mouth, and you gasped for air—throat raw and nipples so hard they stung.

You watched as he looked down at you, smiling menacingly before using his hand to spread your spit and his precum all over your face and giving you a harsh slap across your cheek when he was satisfied.

"Very good, doll," he praised before giving you a sloppy kiss.

"Now, stand up and spread your fucking legs."

Following his instructions, you stood up on shaky knees, well aware of what was about to happen.

"Yang, come play with her pussy," Haechan called out.

You felt Yang Yang behind you before he started to play with your clit.

"You know the rules, right, baby?" Yang Yang asked, already aware of what Haechan's intentions were.

"Y-yes, sir."

You had to stay in this position for as long as possible. If your legs went weak and you fell to your knees, they wouldn't make you cum

One fucked you from behind while the other ate you out...together.

It was a game the three of you played often.

You looked at Haechan and saw that he was already on his knees, looking up at you.

"Ready, doll?" he asked.

You squeezed your eyes shut. "Yes."

You felt Yang Yang first, his tip teasing you a bit before he thrust into you, stretching you out and causing you to scream.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, his voice blissful before he bit into your shoulder.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You were going to lose.

Just when you started getting used to Yang Yang, you felt Haechan's tongue.

"Haechan," you whined out.

"Yes, baby?" he answered before he started to eat you out like he'd been starving, sucking on your clit and lapping up all of your juices so effortlessly.

You were going to lose.

"You're not screaming enough for me," Yang Yang whispered to you like a devil on your shoulder.

Soon, the sound of skins slapping together, along with the sound of sucking and slurps, filled the apartment.

Now, you were screaming.

So fucking loud.

You were definitely going to lose.

[joohanisms]

xdh + soft intimacy 💭💫

i'm not god's strongest soldier. i need fluff too.

cw: disgustingly sweet fluff, suggestive for jungsu, junhan and jooyeon, biting in jooyeon's, 1 little gross comment in ode's.

gunil

soft slaps on the ass.

drying your hair for you <3333333

getting ready for bed together. just being side by side with him in parallel play fashion while you put on your skincare, brush your teeth, etc.

if he's done sooner than you are, his arms are around your waist and his chin is on your shoulder, just holding onto you while you finish getting ready to finally join him under the covers and cuddle until you fall asleep

wearing soft, comfy pyjamas to bed every night. he might have even got you a matching set :-( or maybe he bought a single set and gave you the shirt so you're literally wearing the same pyjamas :-(

likes to wear said shirt to bed when you're away </3

jungsu

taking showers together !!

it doesn't even have to go the sexual route (although sometimes it does), only washing up and helping each other with gentle touches is more than enough.

would know your favorite shower temperature by heart :-) my loveliest.

would take your shampoo and wash your hair soooo gently, massaging your scalp .. if you have any tangles, he'll take the conditioner and slowly go through them.

but as much as he loves taking care of you, he loves being taken care of.

wash his hair with the fancy hair treatment shampoo, massage his scalp, make sure none of the suds fall too close to his eyes. he melts every time.

when it comes to washing your bodies, this is where the danger is at. sometimes you'll get too touchy for it to be .. sfw .. but! most of the time it's just soooooo tender.

body wash suds everywhere, hands everywhere, the occasional tickle and/or pinch..

also, if he was alone and he missed you for whatever reason, he'd steal your body wash so he can try and curb the longing :-( it never worked.

jiseok

looklooklook. sciency booky boy. if you're in uni he's coming with you to wherever you go to study.

he knows practicing guitar might make you lose your focus, so he likes to read or look into science thingies!!

baby likes being close to you and no matter how different your lifestyles might be, he likes to be included :-)

won't let you overwork yourself though.

if you're in public, he'll gently pull you out of your bubble and suggest you go eat something, take a walk, whatever.

though if you're home, he can be more affectionate. he'll come behind you and massage your scalp, run his hands along your body and go baby, let's rest a little, yeah? i have snacks ready for you!!!

if you end up dozing off beside him on the couch he'll nearly pull a muscle trying to get a blanket without waking you up. you wake up because of the jostling and he's actually a little relieved tbh.

will go c'mon, let's nap in a bed. we don't want your neck to be stiff in class tomorrow :-(

seungmin

i'm so sorry to say this. if you have acne he Will go can i pop it pwease... idk if this is a common couple practice throughout the world but it is where i live . peak levels of intimacy = popping your partner's pimples for the oddly satisfying vibe

loves online shopping with you!!!

you would sit together with a laptop on your laps and go babeee you'd look so good in this !!!!

cocky little bastard he is, he might go you should see me/yourself without it ;-) the only way to make him stop talking or smiling like a fool is to kiss him.

then you often end up saving money because you simply forgot about shopping lmaooo

on a softer note, you'd would window shop through the internet, falling into rabbit holes. when you realise, you're looking into real state in minnesota or baby shoes.

even though those seem funny and really far away, your hearts grow a little warmer <3

hyeongjun

idk personally i love i adore boys that are not afraid to be vulnerable.

okay, when the pair of you were still too fresh, too shaky, jun would be more reserved and think he'd be bothering you.

when the relationship gets established/stable though, he would get clingier, softer, coming to you with his worries, leaving you to pet his hair and reassure him :-(

when taking a nap he'll cuddle up to you, head under your chin and making himself as small as possible, and it's so endearing to see your lanky boyfie trying to be tiny so he can be babied and cooed at .. little does he know you'd do that to him even if he was 3m tall.

now, sex wise: when he feels vulnerable and in need of affection, he might go 🥺 could you. uh. lead tonight 🥺 and he'd be theeeee softest warmest loveliest little sub

jooyeon

holding your titties non sexually when you are alone.

cuddling? boob in hand. napping? head on boob. stressed? free stressball.

they're just really warm and soft :-(

omnomnomnom his love language is biting.

will lovingly bite any body part in reach of his mouth. nips at your neck just to watch goosebumps rise in your arms.

might've bitten you too hard once .. was So apologetic, he never wanted to hurt you :-(

but when the bite would bruise eventually, he would like it a little too much. he won't open this can of worms right now though

[alittlebit0fmayhem]

𝙻𝚊 𝚅𝚒𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎

I siriusly don't know why I've chosen now to fall back into my marauders phase, mais c'est la vie...

(see what I did there?)

I've taken French for literally five years, (I'm nowhere near fluent tho) so I have no idea why it's taken me so long to incorporate it into my writing.

In all honesty, I'm doing great mentally, but I've been pining for some wolfstar! x reader angst, and I haven't really found any that meet my fancy yet soooooo.

Fine I'll do it myself.

Summary: You were a hopeless romantic who had always tended to see things through rose colored glasses, falling in love with the idea of falling in love. Each new infatuation came to you like a fascination ready to be explored, there was nothing you loved more than the head-games of an all consuming crush. That was until, the latest object of attraction became two boys so incredibly and viscerally out of your reach.

Warnings: Angst! (like a lot), Unrequited love, fluff for a mere second, tbh I feel like it is funny at moments???

Once again, if you see any formatting/grammatical errors, please let me know!

Enjoy <3

———–

It had all been fun and games, it never really mattered, until it did.

It was no secret, to your family, your friends, and least of all you. You loved falling in love.

Bi-monthly, and sometimes depending on the circumstance, bi-weekly you waltzed into the Gryffindor common room with a new tale of budding romance to share with your friends. And they'd just look at you and smile,

"Ah, our (Y/N), ever the helpless romantic." they'd say, all the while you'd confirm their statements with a blush or grin.

It was harmless, innocent, you had made quite the reputation for yourself around Hogwarts.

Anyone who got involved with you knew your tendencies, that your heart could change pace like the seasons came and went. Each boy and girl you set your sights on was like a new game of chess for your dazzling beauty and quick wits to conquer.

Which, you knew in retrospect sounded terrible, but you also knew you were young, and that relationships and love should be something to explore, not something to hold you down.

Besides, it wasn't like they didn't mean anything to you, you felt heartbreak when it was said and done with. To you, the growth and rebirth that came with romance was something equally as beautiful as the summits and triumphs.

You had a sneaking suspicion, that if the Greeks and Romans were right about their gods, you had to have been under Aphrodite's watchful eye.

Coming up on your last year of Hogwarts, you had become unbeatable. You had captured so many suitors, there were even lingering rumors of Veela tainting your blood.

Of course, they were all false, though, you'd never tell anyone otherwise. Because, what fun would that be?

You had at least one crash-and-burn love story from every house to tell, it even got to the point that people were courting you with the intention of "taming" your rampage.

Never, had there been a crush you couldn't bounce back from, no matter how close to breaking you came, you never did.

That was until you just had to go and viciously fuck yourself over.

Your thoroughly used vinyl of La Vie en Rose echoed through your dorm room as it spun for what might've been the millionth time, lyrics serving as a cruel jab toward your current situation.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,

You hadn't meant for it turn to out this way. For the first time in your entire life, there you sat, face stuffed into your pillow, wishing to Merlin that your heart could just bleed out of your chest.

Maybe then, it wouldn't be something you'd have to deal with, and you could forget about the prospect of falling in love together.

Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche,

It wasn't too late at all, it was just after dinner, and the rest of your dorm mates had cleared to the common room to celebrate the winning quidditch match that had transpired hours earlier.

On any usual occasion, you'd been down there with them, curled up on the couch next to Lilly, Mary, or Marlene, sipping rum-infused butter beer in content.

Instead, you were curled up alone, bathed in the dim light of your bedside candle, shivering from the cold.

Your blanket had fallen half down your body nearly fifteen minutes ago, and yet, the last thing on your mind was pulling it back up.

Voila le portrait sans retouches,

You had made some lame excuse as to why you would be exempt from tonight's actives, claiming you wanted to brush up on your divination for the exam at the end of the week.

Everyone had bought it, too high on youthful excitement and laughter to stop once more and examine the dark circles under your eyes.

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens,

As you stuffed your face further into the cotton pillowcase, you desperately wished the ground would open up and take you somewhere dark and quiet. Somewhere you could forget that you existed, so you could stop feeling like such a horrible human being.

Your mind had been clouded with buzzing jumbled thoughts for what felt like hours, never ceasing to give you a moment to rest. You surely thought your ears would start bleeding from how hard you had been thinking all day.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras,

You had now reached a point, with your uniform discarded haphazardly on the floor, and the sleep shirt you garnered swallowing you whole, where your brain had become filled with white noise.

The only coherent thought you could form right now, was how the hell did I get here?

Il me parle l'a tout bas,

Which of course, led you back into a rabbit hole of memories.

Je vois,

 la vie en rose...

The infirmary's visiting hours were long over, the only company you had to keep was the first year who had fallen out of a tree that was sleeping in the cot next to you.

You should've been fast asleep by now, but you couldn't bring yourself to count a single sheep. 

You weren't there for any real injury, a prank the boys had pulled a few hours earlier had backfired, and you had gotten the brunt of their mistake.

What was supposed to be a "pimple-inducing glitter rocket" (you had no idea how they got so creative) headed straight for Severus Snape, was quickly dogged by the intended victim, and who else was so lucky to be standing a few feet behind him, but you?

After a quick potion, you were fine, but you felt a little nauseous from the drink, and a little woozy from all the excitement, so you decided to stay there for the night.

A decision you were vastly regretting, as it was coming up on midnight and you had absolutely nothing to do. 

You had resorted to trying to write a letter to a boy you broke up with two days prior, he had left on quite a sour note, and truthfully you felt a bit awful for him.

It wasn't necessarily his fault, like many prior partners, you'd just grown uninterested. You figured you should at least leave him a note apologizing for the entire ordeal, even if it did get left in the bin.

That would've been great and all, only, you had no bloody idea what to write.

This had to have been the fourth page of parchment you had crumbled up and discarded next to you. With the thin sheet from the hospital bed drawn over you, you sat dumbfounded, cross-legged with a small, pink, dancing flame next to your quill. 

You had started writing the beginning sentence, but then again, nothing came to mind after that. Your regularly admired face was scrunched up deep in thought, your nightgown slipping down one shoulder as you held the feather deep in concentration. 

You re-read what you already had, and decided to just follow up with whatever came to mind. Perhaps, you were thinking too hard. 

After much consideration, you began writing once more, 

"I'm sorry I got bored of you-" scratch. Nope, that was dreadful, this was a lost cause, and you were wretched. 

You huffed dismally, with no regard for the boy sleeping only a few feet away, and just as you prepared to snuff the light out, and try to achieve some shut-eye, you heard it.

You heard the door to the hospital wing slowly squeak open. 

You paused, who would be coming in at this hour?

You turned to the small flame dancing on the candle seated next to you and snuffed it with a pinch before grabbing your wand which was next to it.

"Lumos." You whispered, as a small orb of light spouted from the end of your wand, you dragged the sheet off your form.

You looked around the hospital wing, from the dozing first year to the grand windows that lined both walls, and finally, to the door.

Though open, no one besides you and the boy seemed to be in the room.

But you were raised by wizards and were best friends with the most ruthless tricksters Hogwarts had ever seen, so you know better than to glance only at surface level.

Slowly, you turned and lowered your feet onto the cold stone floor. 

As you tip-toed around your bed, eyes squinting and wand raised high, you spoke aloud.

"Who's there?" Apart from the echo of your voice, and the murmurs from the boy next to you who stirred slightly, silence.

You stepped forward a few more paces so that you were in the center of the room.

"Show yourself!" You spoke slightly louder and turned in all directions as if hoping to catch any movement.

Nothing. 

You sighed, perhaps you were just a lunatic, and the door had blown open on its own. You turned to walk back to your bed, and just as you took one step, you were interrupted by what nearly made you shit yourself.

"Hello, dear." 

A voice cut through the air next to you, and you screamed on pure instinct.

Well, you would've, if not for the hand shooting out of the darkness to cover your mouth. You swung your wand in the direction of your assailant and were met with a sight completely unexpected. 

Remus Lupin's big brown eyes, illuminated by your wand stared back at you. Or rather, down at you. 

The significantly taller boy was heaving, his ruffled oaky hair falling slightly in his face, which held an expression that suggested you had scared him. The light traced his scars, and his large, cut-covered hand closed around almost the whole bottom half of your face.

You couldn't help but think; how pretty Remus Lupin looked at that moment.

He gulped, a smile tugging at his lips as his expression shifted into one of slight amusement, "Alright love, I'm going to remove my hand now, and you are going to promise me you won't scream at us."

His voice was a soft whisper and reminded you of the rocky seashore you used to visit every summer with your parents when you were little. 

It sent a shiver down your spine, had it always had that effect?

You then reconsidered his wording, Us? Your eyes shifted to his right, and there you were met with an even more surprising sight. 

Sirius Black stood with one hand in his pocket, and the other clenching James Potter's invisibility cloak.

"Of course." You thought.

He stood with an air of relaxation like he always did. His annoyingly beautiful face was drawn in mirth, though far more sheening than Remus'.

His brows were raised, and his eyes regarded your appearance with what could only be described as mischief, as a feathery strand of his rebellious raven hair dipped between his eyes. 

He winked at you after you had seemed to stare for a little too long, causing you to snap out of your bewilderment, and look back to Remus, who remained rooted in the same spot looking at you expectantly. 

You nodded at him, holding his gaze, which seemed far too intense for a boy his age. For whatever reason, he nodded back. 

He removed his hand, and just as he did, you swatted it away and stepped back.

"What in Merlin's name are you both doing here?! You scared the hell out of me!" You whisper-shouted at the pair. The two boys smiled youthfully at you in response.

Sirius finally swaggered forward, and past you, not refraining from brushing against you as he did. He turned and plopped down on your bed, discarding James' cloak next to him.

In his natural air of arrogance, he leaned back on his palms and lolled his head to the side, grinning up at you.

"We thought our girl could use some company, didn't we Moony?" 

Against your better judgment, you rolled your eyes and swayed to look at Remus, who remained smiling down at you. 

Annoyingly, a smile of your own made its way onto your face.

It was no secret that out of the group you, Sirius, and Remus were close in a way that the others weren't.

I mean, of course, the boys, and you and the girls would always be close in your respective ways, but for some reason, you three just seemed to click in a weird, and almost perfect way.

It wasn't like they called any other girl in the friend group "their girl", and it wasn't like you'd go through the animagus process for just anyone. 

Remus bit his tongue, his eyes flickered from Sirius', and back to yours before he nodded once more.

Suddenly, he pulled his wand from his pocket and lit a candle on a bedside table across the room, so that your wand could be lowered and placed gingerly in the pocket of your nightgown.

 As he returned his wand to his pocket all the same, he stepped forward and took both your hands in his own, swinging them back and forth idly, "Yeah, that and we wanted to apologize again for being the reason you're in here in the first place."

"Even though it was James' idea to begin with!" Sirius' voice beckoned from behind you.

Remus shot him a glare over your head before looking back down at you and rolling his eyes, swiping his thumb gently across the back of your hand, "Yes," he droned begrudgingly, "even though." 

You bit your bottom lip while grinning in an attempt to conceal the laughter rising in your throat.

You released one of his hands, still gripping the other as you spun yourself around and face Sirius, who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed. 

You couldn't help the content sigh that escaped your lips as you regarded the look of merriment and genuineness that graced Sirius' face. 

You took turns looking between both boys before saying, "Consider yourselves forgiven, though I have a feeling that wasn't the only thing you came for."

"You'd be right to assume, Lovebug," Remus responded. Another thing, there wasn't a soul on the planet save for Remus and Sirius who called you Lovebug.

It was a title fashioned for your romantic tendencies, and it suited you quite well.

Sirius suddenly hopped to a stand, before taking his wand to poke the sleeping boy's foot ever so slightly, "We are taking you to the astronomy tower, to watch the crescent moon." He said nonchalantly, you scoffed in disbelief. 

"Right now? But Sirius I'm in a bloody nightgown, not to mention barefoot, and all my things-"

You were cut off by Remus, whose arms had suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, "Relax darling, we'll have you back before the sun rises, maybe we'll even take your things and you back to the dorm where you belong." 

You chuffed, "But-"

"As for the nightgown and lack of shoes, we can assure you, love, you look absolutely smashing in it, and have cute enough feet for it not to be too grotesque." Sirius winked.

You sighed and tried to ignore the light blush that settled across your cheeks, drowned out by the darkness.

You groaned petulantly like a child as you struggled to come up with a counterpoint, and leaned into Remus' lankily muscular build.

"C'mon Darling, it's your favorite moon cycle, and we know you must be bored to tears." 

You froze as Remus' smooth voice resonated against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over you slightly.

It was then you became aware of just how dipped in his scent you were, it completely engulfed you, the smell of pinewood, candle wax, and parchment. 

You cleared your throat, before Sirius interjected once more, "Evidently, by the literary devices she's turned to to cope."

Your eyes widened, as your headshot over to Sirius, who had now grabbed and held the parchment you had forgotten you left on your bed.

His hair created a curtain around his face as he leaned over to read it, still though you could make out the shit-eating grin on his face as he did so. 

"Dear Callum, I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from at the moment, but I'm sorry I got bored of you-" He read aloud in a high-pitched voice before he broke down into laughter.

You wrenched out of Remus' hold before surging forward and snatching the paper from his hand and shoving him slightly.

"Give me that you oaf!" You hissed lowly.

He snicked and pulled you into a hug, "Oh come now, you know I'm only joking lovely, please don't leave me! I promise never to bore you!" He sang, you elbowed him in rebuttal.

"Alright, fine! FINE! I will go, will you stop it now?!" You snapped, his laughter eventually died down as he hummed and looked down at you.

You craned your neck to meet his gaze, "Ah, knew you'd come around Lovebug, right then off we go!" He announced before spinning you and setting you down on the ground.

You watched as he practically skipped over to Remus, before grabbing the boy by the jaw and pulling him into a simple kiss.

Yet another symbol of your closeness, you were one of the only ones who knew that the two were more than just friends.

Remus hummed before returning the kiss and pulling away.

Sirius leaned into his neck, "Told you she'd come around Moony."

Remus licked his lips and gave you a half-lidded once over, not even he could contain the dim beam that spread across his face. 

"Course she did, she's our girl after all." He mused.

In an instant, the smile dropped from your face.

It was then, for the first time in a long time, you felt something. Like a punch in the gut, one that you knew familiarly, but not to this extent. 

The air in your lungs seemed to leave you all at once, as a cold hotness spread over you.

Your vision began to tunnel, as your ears filled with wind, and you became all too aware of the sweat that coated your palms.

"No," you thought, "no way."

 Your heartbeat quickened, and you desperately hoped that with Remus' advanced senses, he couldn't hear it. 

There was no way this was happening, not to you, not right now.

It was such a simple sentence, one you were sure he and Sirius had uttered to you before, so why did it ignite this feeling in you?

Why, did you have to have such a reaction, and why now? 

You wiped the sweat that sprouted from your palms on your nightgown and could feel some new form on the nape of your neck.

It felt as though the air of comfortability from earlier had evaporated, replaced with a thick blanket of awkwardness and anxiety, at least on your part.

The boys you had leaned into so carelessly before, had now become the two people you wanted to be furthest from.

You knew this feeling, you knew what it was, and normally, you'd welcome it like an old friend. But not this time, not for them. 

Why, did it have to be them?

"(Y/N)" Sirius' question shook you from your state of silent panic. You blinked and swallowed a thick glob of your saliva. 

"Yeah?" Your voice was far less even than it had been a second ago, it wavered and shook much without you meaning it to.

The boys looked at you with confusion drawn over their expressions, "You ready to go?" Remus said as if you were some dimwitted puppy. 

Your eyelids flickered, and you took a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, must be the after-effects of the potion." You lied through your teeth. 

They nodded at you, still seeming suspicious of your behavior but not questioning the matter further.

Each boy extended a hand, and you almost let out a shattered sigh as you slowly stepped forward and took each hand in your own.

As you three began walking to the door, and you plastered a smile on your face, you began to hear your voice screaming inside your head.

In an instant, you knew what you had done. 

You'd just gone and fallen in love with two boys you knew you couldn't have.

That exchange had transpired a week ago, and ever since then, you'd been spiraling.

You felt hot tears gather in your eyes as you recounted it redundantly. In your mind, there were layers to how fucked up this was.

You can't like two people at once, that's utterly selfish. You berated yourself, especially since those two people are dating each other, not to mention two boys! Not to mention even more two boys that just so happen to be your best friends!

You groaned as you rubbed your temples, blinking back the tears.

Any logical, normal person would've taken the high road, and just silently waited until this infatuation passed.

But as you were reminded incessantly, you were the furthest from logical, or normal.

The longer you lingered with this knowledge, the more unbearable it became.

Every moment you spent trying not to think about Sirius or Remus, was another moment in which your little crush turned into a full-blown obsession.

At first, you had resigned to pretending as if nothing was amiss, forcing smiles and hoping they couldn't tell. But every day you felt your resolve weakening, and so as of today, you had completely avoided them at all costs.

Then, you just had to let your friends drag you to that stupid quidditch match.

You had managed to sit as far from Remus as possible and tried to push through through the awkwardness, which worked for awhile, and then the world had to go and give you another slap in the face.

After James had caught the snitch, you were dealt the misfortune of locking eyes with Sirius, who, high on excitement as he was, decided to beam at you, and blow you a fucking kiss.

Damn Sirius Black for being the natural flirt he was, and damn his stupidly perfect face.

You knew in hindsight it was just Sirius being Sirius, he was head over heels for Remus.

It's not like he knew how much he made your heart flutter from that simple act alone.

But the side effects of it were damning, and whilst you got by with averting eye contact and keeping to yourself for the walk back to the castle, you refused to risk a much more obvious reaction given the boys pull anything else.

You sighed, again, as you shut your eyes and listened to the last lyric that played from your vinyl.

Et, dès que je l'apercois, alors je sens en moiI, mon coeur qui bat...

You bit the inside of your cottoned mouth, and gulped sending a sting down your dry throat.

Your favorite song was beginning to sound like torture every time you translated its meaning in your head.

Yes, you thought bitterly, I see life through rose-colored glasses, and look where that's got me now.

Finally, you opened your eyes. God, your side of the dorm was a mess, Lily was going to kill you.

Not that it wouldn't be deserved, you shot at yourself.

With all the remaining strength in your body, you pushed yourself off your bed. The needle on your record player had finally reached the center of the vinyl, meaning it was time for you to get up and move it again.

As your feet landed on the cold floor, you winced, rolling your ankles to re-attune your body to movement.

After a moment you stood, not missing the blackness that pinched at your view from your lightheaded state. You began to walk across the room, ignoring the cries that sounded from your locked joints.

Your brain felt fuzzy, and your movements were reduced to emotionless and empty.

You stopped in front of the table on which your record player sat, and lifted a weak, trembling hand to the needle.

And as you picked up, and moved it to the edge, allowing the song to replay once more, you heard the startling sound of the door creaking open.

You didn't bother to look at her, instead, you closed your eyes and inhaled in preparation for what was to come.

"Godrick, (Y/N) the room's a mess, what have you been doing all this time?!"

Lily's maternal croon should've at least offered a morsel of comfort, and yet, all it did was cause more tears to sting the corners of your eyes.

Your ears filled with ocean sounds as Lily began to parade around the room, picking up all your discarded articles of clothing, too lost in her own ramblings to notice the air of gloom that hung over you.

You bit your lip as you shut your eyes tightly, trying desperately to keep any more tears from running freely down your rosy cheeks.

Lily had this way about her, she was too comforting, too emotion-invoking.

You wished she would've just stayed downstairs for one more hour, at least then you would've more had time to collect yourself.

But she didn't, she was here, and she was going to witness you in the state that you were; raw, terrified, and utterly humiliated.

Your mind had turned into a wind tunnel of thoughts and feelings, preventing you from noticing how Lily had halted her movements and slighted her gaze to your now shaking form.

"(Y/N)? Lovie? Are you alright?"

You opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling for one moment, teeth biting down harder on your trembling lip.

Finally, you turned and met her head-on.

Lily gasped in spite of herself, "Oh, Y/N." she whispered, brows stitched in worry, emerald eyes widening.

Before you could blink, she was on you. Lean arms enclosing your figure, one placed comfortingly behind your head, the other wrapped around your waist.

"Darling, what's happened?" Her soft voice resonated in your ear.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, burrowing your head in her shoulder, shaking it slightly.

Your arms had returned the embrace tenfold, hands grasping her sweater tightly like she was the only thing in the universe holding you together at that moment.

Before you could stop yourself, soft hiccups began to escape you, and it was then, as Lily pulled away and began to wipe at the wetness under your eyes, you realized, you had to tell her.

You allowed yourself to be guided to her side of the room and sat down on her plush, quilted bed.

Blinking through tears you tried to focus on Lilly's concerned face, as she pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and took your hand.

"Y/N, please, tell me what's the matter." Lily begged quietly as she smoothed her thumb over the back of your hand.

The moonlight from the window above her bed was nearly the only thing that illuminated the space around you, sheening on your variability, and exposing your flaws.

Your eyes flickered as you took a deep breath and attempted to collect your thoughts, and organize them into something, anything, clear enough to be spoken aloud.

"I..." Your voice quietly resonated, coarse and croaky from hours of wailing and weeping. You fought against the tightness in your throat, encouraged by Lily's soft eyes, and comforting presence.

After a moment, you cleared your throat and tried again.

You began with a sigh, focusing on the way Lily smelled of vanilla, allowing her scent to calm your flurrying mind.

"Lily," you said, much quieter this time, "I've done something terrible."

Lily's brows furrowed once more, in confusion this time. "What can you mean?" she replied, ever inquisitive and eager.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, here it goes.

You gripped her hand like it was your lifeline, "I've..." you paused.

"I've fallen in love again."

Quiet settled over the room, blanketing the two girls.

Lily blinked, face going blank.

Before she could stop herself, a snort escaped from her mouth. Her demeanor of worry was now replaced with one of disbelief and wry amusement.

"You must be joking, seriously (Y/N)? That's all this is about? another silly little fling?" She teased, now finding this entire situation utterly ironic.

You huffed, frustration becoming your face. "No," You interjected, voice strained and tight.

"It's not- God, it's not that I've fallen in love again, it's with who!"

Lily raised a brow, squinting, lip quirking. "Right then," she teased, "Tell me, who is the soul lucky enough to hold your affections?"

You were glaring and lifting yourself off the bed in an instant. Bitterness bitting at your tongue.

"Forget it." You bit.

Lily sighed and grasped your hand before you could get even two steps. "(Y/N)," she groaned in defeat, feeling instant guilt as more tears glided down your chin.

"I'm sorry, that was cruel of me. You can tell me, and I won't make fun of you."

You eyed the redhead suspiciously, "Promise?" You quipped. Lily smiled, "Promise."

You bit the inside of your cheek and returned to your spot on the bed.

You huffed and picked away at some of the skin around your fingernails anxiously. "You really promise not to judge?" you mumbled, looking up at her through your wet lashes.

Lily nodded, "I promise lovie, you can tell me." her smile was the reassurance you needed, but it didn't lessen the ache in your heart.

You shut your eyes, annoyed at the feeling of more tears gushing down your neck.

You covered your face in your palms, before admitting out loud the confession you'd been reckoning with for days.

"I fucked up," you said through tears as you lifted your eyes to meet Lily's, "I've fallen in love with Remus Lupin," you watched Lily's eyes turn into saucers, "And, Sirius fucking Black."

In any other situation, you would've laughed at how Lily's jaw fell open, but this was no laughing matter. Her hand flew to hover above her mouth, and for the first time in all that you've known her, Lily Evans had been rendered speechless.

And you, were growing more anxious by the moment. Tears were now fully cascading down your face, sobs and hiccups wrenching from your throat.

"Say something!" You begged, her silence was making you feel worse by the second.

Lily jumped, broken out of her state of shock. She closed and open her mouth, trying to find the right words, before she so eloquently settled on,

"Merlin's fuck, (Y/N)."

You cried harder if that was even possible.

"I know, I know, it's horrible isn't it?" You whined.

After a week of keeping this all bottled up, it was now all coming crashing down on you.

You felt your heart ripping at the seams, in such a short period of time, these boys had suddenly had the most magnifying attraction you had felt.

You felt so utterly stupid, had you always liked them? Did it just so happen that that fateful night was your moment of realization?

Either way, neither explanation lessened your suffocating distress.

As you let your head fall into your hands, Lily grabbed your shoulders, rubbing them up and down encouragingly.

"Well, I won't lie to you sweetheart, it doesn't look amazing." She winced, resolving to pull your sobbing body to hers, wrapping her arms around you once more.

Lily knew the weight of this situation, because she knew Remus and Sirius, more especially, the relationship the two shared.

"When did you find this out?" She asked softly. 

You sniffed, "A week ago, I think? Oh Merlin, maybe I've always known but was never ready to admit it to myself." 

Lily sighed thoughtfully, before replying. "Well, do you want to tell them?" 

You thought for a moment, before shaking your head in defeat.

"It's no use Lils, even in my wildest dreams, they're out of my reach. I can't have them, and the fact that I even want them makes me feel like the biggest arsehole in the world."

Lily stayed quiet as you continued your rant, allowing you to verbalize all the feelings that had been festering in your heart. 

"Godrick, they're so perfect for each other, it's almost unreal. You've seen them together, they look as if they were made for each other. Not only that, but they fought so hard for the right to be together. And who the hell am I to come in here and even consider ruining that? I must be the most selfish girl in the world." 

You felt your heart break a little more with each word, but you couldn't stop yourself, you had to let these thoughts surface. 

"They trusted me," you sobbed, "every deep, grimy secret that they had no obligation to share, they trusted me enough to tell. All they've ever wanted from me was a friend, someone to be their home, and now I've gone and ruined it."

"You don't know that-" Lily tried, but you interrupted before she could even finish the sentence.

"Yes, I do! You know how I get Lily, even about simple crushes they become all I can think about. I will not be able to stop thinking about them, and every single time they feel comfortable enough to be affectionate in front of me, I'll break all over again."

Finally, you paused and took a deep breath.

"There is absolutely no situation in which this can turn out alright for me."

Lily felt her heartache for you as she assessed the sheer pain in your voice.

However, this situation was difficult, because she had to consider Remus and Sirius' well-being too.

She tapped a finger on the bare skin of your arm. "You know what I think?" She finally said.

You lifted your head and met her calculating eyes with your own. "What?" you asked pathetically. 

Lily rotated her jaw, "I think, that this situation is much bigger than you or I, so before we go making blind assumptions, we need to let Remus and Sirius speak for themselves."

She paused, "(Y/N), I know you're scared, but you have to tell them."

You inhaled deeply, eyes flickering with fear.

You were scared, terrified actually. But, the more you thought about it, the more you realized what you had known all this time.

Lily was right, they needed to know. 

You couldn't just disappear from their lives without giving them a floor to speak their peace, it wasn't right.

Doing that, you decided, would truly be the cruelest thing you could possibly do.

You huffed, before blinking away the last of your tears and taking a moment to wipe the mess off your face.

Lily sat and watched you as you began to collect yourself, leaning on her own arm for support. 

After a moment, when you felt as though you were moderately put together, you shook your hands out and breathed deeply for that last time.

You looked to Lily, there were still a million questions you wished could be answered, but for tonight, as you checked the clock and saw it was coming up on 1:00 A.M., you settled for just one.

"Do you think they realize I've been avoiding them?" You cringed.

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"(Y/N) (L/N), you open this door right now, or so help me Merlin, I will blow it down!" Sirius' muffled yell sounded from the other side of the aged wood.

Then, Remus chimed in. "You know he'll do it love, so there's no use in fighting."

You froze, and for a moment as Lily's expression turned into that of a deer in headlights, you thought maybe the whole universe froze with you.

Your blood ran cold as they continued raving about their usual nonsense, and as you saw the door handle rattle, you and Lily finally spoke in unison.

"Oh, fuck."

[momotonescreaming]

Trying my hand at something different based off of a silly text post I made about a 90s/00s chatfic au. Not 100% sure if I'll continue it yet, so please let me know what you think! 💜❤️

Eddie couldn’t lie to himself that his heart skipped a beat when he got the notification. When he saw who the notification was for. The familiar bloop noise and the little pop up at the corner of the screen.

KingSteve85 is Online

Finally. Steve had moved away for college almost two weeks ago now, and Eddie had barely heard from him. Logically he knows that he and Robin needed the time to drive up, and set up in their cramped little dorms, and do other fancy college orientation things. But he missed them. Now that he had them, people who weren’t scared of him, people who weren’t afraid to call him out on his shit, people who got it. They talked almost every day after… everything.

Eddie would log on to the shitty old computer he and Wayne had fixed up and wedged in the corner of the trailer, scroll the internet, listen to music — and chat with Steve. He was a good fucking guy. And funny. And hot. And now it felt weird not chatting to him every day. Not logging on after a shift at Thatcher Tyre to find the little green Online dot next to his username. Not logging on at 2am after a nightmare to find Steve also online.

But Steve’s at college now, and his PC is currently boxed up in Robin’s childhood bedroom. Didn’t trust his new roommate, he said. Or his parents, after he moved out.

Without hesitating, ignoring the flip of his stomach and beat of his heart — he sends Steve a message.

c0rr0d3d_3dd13: soooooo how was ur 1st wk of college? :D

Steve replies immediately.

KingSteve85: so crazy haha KingSteve85: sorry i haven’t been online haha c0rr0d3d_3dd13: lol allgud. i know ur a big college boy now C0rr0d3d_3dd13: don’t have time 4 me anymor lol ;_;

Eddie cringes as soon as he says it, as soon as he hears the click of the enter key sending the message. Recoiling into a ball, hands over his face, curling up on the wheeled office chair, he lets himself spin as he watches the screen. Waits for the KingSteve85 is typing… message to pop up. God, Steve’s barely left and Eddie’s already a needy, self deprecating, mess.

Fuck his life. Crushes are stupid.

Because that’s what that is. He can admit that to himself now. Now that Steve’s left. He’s got a big, fat, gay crush on Steve Harrington. Him and all the other repressed queer kids at Hawkins High. What a cliché.

The computer pings with a new message, and his gaze is ripped towards the screen.

KingSteve85: never! there was just a lot of events and stuff this first week KingSteve85: did not have time to go to the library and log on lol KingSteve85: haven’t even called Dustin yet c0rr0d3d_3dd13: ur messaging me b4 dusty? Ur gonna make a girl blush harrington

Hunched over on the office chair with the broken wheel, at the computer he helped fix, with the shoddy speakers him and Wayne haven’t gotten around to yet — Eddie felt special. Dustin was Steve’s brother, one of his best friends. And yet Steve chose to message him first.

He tries to humble himself, hold back the blush with the knowledge that if Robin went to a different college than Steve (which was highly unlikely), he would have messaged her first. But Robin isn’t at a different college. And Eddie got the message first.

c0rr0d3d_3dd13: wot sort of events were there? music and drinking? Rotfl KingSteve85: literally yes haha KingSteve85: during the day there were like,,, tours and stalls advertising clubs and stuff KingSteve85: but as soon as it was night it all popped off haha c0rr0d3d_3dd13: u go 2 any? KingSteve85: some! not a lot haha. Robs wasn’t super excited and i didn’t want to leave her alone

It warmed his cynical heart, how much Steve cared for Robin. And how much she cared for him in return. They cared, and they love each other so much. Eddie thinks they’d still be close, even without all the debilitating trauma that glued them together. Robin had mentioned wanting to merge her and Steve into one being before, so they could always be close and balance each other out. Steve had immediately agreed.

Eddie had friends in the Corroded Coffin boys, but he wasn’t sure if they were at the ‘merge into one mega being’ stage of their friendship yet. Maybe Jeff. Jeff had gone off to college this year with Frank — to a different place than Steve and Robin — and Eddie had already received a postcard from him. It was nice to not be forgotten. A part of him wondered if he would be, when everyone went off to college.

But Jeff didn’t. Steve didn’t.

c0rr0d3d_3dd13: wot a gentleman lol c0rr0d3d_3dd13: wots ur timetable lik now? KingSteve85: fucking crazy dude KingSteve85: got lectures & tutorials & work & been thinking about doing a sport again c0rr0d3d_3dd13: which sport lol? u’ve got like… 3 to pick from c0rr0d3d_3dd13: ALSO DAMN DUDE THATS BUSY KingSteve85: i guess haha KingSteve85: been thinking either basketball or swimming. maybe baseball lol KingSteve85: which’ll add practices and meets and games and stuff haha

Before he left, Steve had quietly admitted that he wasn’t sure if he’d try out for a sport or not. During his senior year Billy Hargrove gave him a concussion so bad it benched him for months, and he’d spent ages trying to work back up to it again. So he could play without wanting to puke. And then he didn’t get into college when he applied to the fancy schools his dad made him apply for, and he missed out on any possible scholarships he would’ve gotten.

And he would’ve gotten them. Eddie’s not much of a sports guy, but he knows Steve was good. Great. One of the best.

Eddie quietly believed in Steve. He wouldn’t be himself unless he was exercising or playing a sport. You could see it in his face when he watched a game with Robin, when he played pick-up basketball with Lucas. It made him happy. So Eddie wanted Steve to try out. He was at the sappy stage where the thought of Steve being happy made his heart swell. He was happy he was happy.

(A part of Eddie just wondered if maybe Steve could be happy with him.)

c0rr0d3d_3dd13: do it!! i’ll cheer 4 u from here c0rr0d3d_3dd13: but leave som time free lol or u’ll go mad KingSteve85: enough free time i can chat w you? Haha

His hear clenches at the fact that it was Steve who bought it up. Their chatting. Maybe he thinks of it as often as Eddie does.

c0rr0d3d_3dd13: obvs??? c0rr0d3d_3dd13: if u 4get ab me im gonna cry dude KingSteve85: of course i won’t haha KingSteve85: gotta chat w you so you won’t go crazy back in Hawkins c0rr0d3d_3dd13: and i’ll make sure u don’t go crazy over there with your full ass schedule KingSteve85: its not that bad haha KingSteve85: but thank u c0rr0d3d_3dd13: i’d argue it *is* that bad c0rr0d3d_3dd13: i hav a full time job and the thought of ur schedule makes me cry

Wayne had managed to get him a job at Thatcher Tyre, through a few mutual acquaintances and a favour he had yet to cash in. It made him feel like one of those rich shit kids who go to college on daddy’s money and get a job in his company without having to work for it. The type of kid Steve was.

But Eddie can’t be picky now, and he and Wayne need the money. He’s good at cars, doesn’t completely hate it, and it pays. So he bit his lip, and now he has a full time job with a schedule of his own.

It is not as busy as Steve’s. He knows if he asks Robin, hers will be the same. Filled with band practices and sports games. Birds of a feather.

KingSteve85: i’m used to it haha KingSteve85: at least i’m only planning on one sport and not two lol c0rr0d3d_3dd13: u better stick to that harrington c0rr0d3d_3dd13: or i’ll drive up there and kick ur ass until you take care of urself

There’s a pause. The KingSteve85 is typing… message flickered on the screen, loading whatever message Steve was typing.

It eventually came through.

KingSteve85: i promise. but maybe i should break that rule so you can come visit c0rr0d3d_3dd13: u dont have 2 con me into visiting stevie. just say the word

Another pause.

KingSteve85: i will

[littlesniggy]

Tying a knot

Soooooo....I'm not back but I really wanted to write this so yeah....hope you like it. Reader is a new recruit in the marines and is actually doing pretty well....if it wasn't for those stupid knots.

Warnings: modern day AU, military AU, dub-c, power dynamics, older man x younger woman, reader is fresh out of high school but over 18, swearing, slightly ns.fw

Pairing: Admiral Sakazuki x female recruit reader

Word count: 4.4k

When you pictured yourself in the future you always thought you’d go to college, get a job, settle down, have some kids, and live the rest of your life together with your husband on some lone range in the middle of nowhere, your grandkids running around while your kids prepare the Sunday dinner in your kitchen while you hold hands with your husband and reflect on what a blessed life you’ve had.

Or maybe you would’ve pursued your carrier, made a fortune by inventing something crazy useful or made the right investment at the right time and by the age of 35 you would’ve been so rich that you never had to lift a finger for the rest of your life. You could’ve traveled abroad, see the world and see where the wind carries you. 

The harsh reality hits you when your commanding officer screams into your face, his spit landing in your open mouth by default since you are breathing heavily. Your muscles are burning and you’re not sure anymore if it’s because of the thousands of sit ups you’ve been forced to do or because you ate something funny (the food is really not the best and you’re not sure how long some of the cans have been hidden in the cabinets, forgotten until the canteen lady unsuspectingly found it and decided it was still edible). 

“MOVE. YOUR. ASS! We’re not in sissy camp, recruit!” he yells, more spit landing on your face. Sweat is covering your entire body, your brown shirt and pants soaking wet, coloring it a shade darker than it actually is. You grunt and follow is order, trying to move faster but everything is simply burning. Your officer luckily moves on to the person next to you to scream at him as well. 

If you remember correctly his name is Cody. You saw him briefly at the briefing in week one but haven’t really noticed him ever since. Apparently, he is also still trying to become a marine, taking the 8 week training camp as seriously as you are. 

The whistle blows and everyone is collapsing on the hard ground, loud panting and groaning can be heard over the entire training ground. “Two-minute break! Then we’ll go over to push-ups!” your commanding officer yelled. Internally your groan in frustration but instead shield your eyes from the burning sun above you to get some shade. Once again, you’re contemplating why you chose this path in life and not the ones you’ve dreamt of when you were younger.

It's not that you are stupid. Rather the opposite. You studied hard to get into university after high school, had a high GPA and all the ambitions to succeed. The only thing you didn’t have was money or a scholarship. Your parents couldn’t afford to send you to college and for some reason you also couldn’t land any scholarships. Contemplating if you should apply to universities anyways or not your uncle mentioned that you could join the military for a couple of years and they would then pay for your studies. So, that’s what you decided to do. Taking online classes is the best possible option but they won’t start before September and you had to survive the first 8 weeks of this hell hole first. 

You roll over onto your stomach and reach for the bottle of water to take a big sip before you have to do a shit ton of sit-ups. 

.

.

.

“Listen up! Tomorrow we will have a high-ranking visitor at our compound. Your orders are to behave at your best, to not complain and to fulfill every task given to you! Not that it’s any different from any other day but I won’t have you lot embarrass us in front of admiral Sakazuki!” a nervous murmur can be heard amongst the recruits, earning everyone a “Shut the fuck up!”. 

“He and vice admiral Garp will stay until the end of week 4 when you will take your second academic test. I don’t need to remind you to study for this test since you will not be able to continue your carrier in the navy unless you pass all tests!” he reminds you all.

Thinking back you noticed some faces didn’t return after the first test but you didn’t really pay it any mind. You scored in the top 10% and are more than content with it. You are also not too concerned about the second test since the questions asked are not too hard anyways. 

“That is all. Dismissed!” the officer yells and immediately stalks off. You and the rest of the new recruits slowly make your way over to the shacks where you share everything with one another. No privacy, only the bathrooms and showers are separated by sex which you are very grateful for. 

.

.

.

After taking a shower you feel much better; still sore but much better. “Dinner” is served exactly at 1830 (630 pm) and if you’re later you won’t get anything to eat and have to wait until the next morning. One of your new friends here made this experience the very first day because he was late. You didn’t really feel bad for him since they said not even 6 hours prior when breakfast, lunch and dinner will be served so it was really only his fault. You have no idea why you engaged in conversation with him since he did nothing but complain that night but you somehow became friends and have sticked together since then. 

“What do you think about admiral Sakazuki coming tomorrow, Y/n?” you look up from your food at Rosinante and shrug. “It’s kinda surprising for him to come here. Maybe he has some business to attend to near the base or even on here….” You muse and take a bite of your meat (?) which tastes just like a show. Rosinante hums and watches your face contort in slight disgust at the taste and texture of the food. “You might be right. Still, I haven’t heard anything good from him.” His voice is hushed as to not attract too much attention. 

“Ever since he’s become an admiral some missions abroad have been somewhat….” He pauses, trying to think of the appropriate word. 

“Questionable?” you finish and he nods in agreement. “Yes, questionable.” He agrees and also takes a bite before spitting it back out. “Disgusting.” He huffs and you smile at him. 

“I heard he’s planned some reform for the marines.” Surprised, you turn around to look at none other than Koby who is sitting right behind you. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.” He apologizes with a small smile but you wave it off. “No worries.” You assure him, also inviting him to continue. 

“I’ve heard some of the officers talk about him visiting another training ground and he personally threw out some of the new recruits even though they passed the tests. They don’t know why but ever since he’s been promoted the atmosphere within the navy has changed.” He informs you. Both you and Rosinante gulp at the story. Sure, there is always the possibility that you might fail a test but being thrown out even after you passed? 

“This almost seems personal…” you murmur and the others nod in agreement. 

“Guess that’s why commander prick seemed a little nervous earlier today.” Rosinante muses. You stay silent, following your own train of thought regarding this revelation.

You need to pass all the tests and become a marine. This is one of the only ways to pursue your academic carrier without falling into a crushing amount of debt. This visit might be a bigger problem than initially expected.

.

.

.

You are used being yelled at. You are used being spit at. You are also (unfortunately) being used to indecent touches by some of your male comrades. All of this you can look past; you know how to deal with it, are not getting intimidated or flustered by any of it. But this is different. 

You have met a lot of different people in your life; some demand more, some demand less authority when entering a room but you have never, ever in your life met anyone who had such a dangerous and commanding aura like the admiral. The moment he stepped onto the training compound your blood ran cold. Chills covered your skin and your stomach dropped. Since now you have never seen anyone as dangerous or a threat. Call it privileged but despite your poor family you were raised pretty well in a surprisingly good neighborhood and there were not a lot of potentially dangerous people in your area. 

You want to look down when his eyes muster the recruits but you know you are not allowed to. This is an entirely new situation and, quite frankly, you have no idea how to behave. And you don’t like it.

Out of the corners of your eyes you can see that your fellow recruits are feeling the same and you feel some kind of relief. At least you’re not the only one.

“When I look at you, I feel disappointed.” His voice is gravely and sends another shiver down your spine. It also makes you listen up even more. This is not a good start for a speech. 

“I visited other bases before and I came to the conclusion that the navy will have to be more selective with new recruits. It should be a privilege to serve in the navy and people should act accordingly. That is why I will personally conduct interviews tomorrow with each and every one of you. If you’re not convincing, you can go back home. That’s all. Dismissed!” 

There is a long stretch of silence where nobody dares to move, even long after he is out of view. Even the officers are speechless, but not for too long. 

“You heard him! So, you better prepare tonight! We will also be judging you on your progress today so you better get your act together!”

.

.

.

You don’t have problems with neither the physical training nor with the academic part but something you certainly are not skilled at is knot-tying. It seems so easy – everybody else can do it – but you can’t to get your head around the right way to tie this stupid knot. You’re constantly yelled by your officers and it also doesn’t help that the admiral and the vice admiral (who you’ve seen for the first time today at knot-tying practice) are watching you with sharp eyes. Or at least the admiral is, vice-admiral Garp is idly chatting with some of the lower ranking marines. 

A frustrated groan leaves your mouth when this stupid rope keeps loosening up every time you’re about to tighten it. “Fucking stupid shitty rope….!” You mumble under your breath and are about to start over again when a large shadow is covering the light coming from the lamp above. You look up, ready to be yelled at again when your body turns to stone. 

You’re looking at the admiral himself, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a displeased look on his face. Everyone around you is silent, shooting stealthy looks in your direction. “I suggest looking for a different carrier when you’re not even capable of tying a simple knot, recruit.” He says and stretches out one hand expectantly. You have to forces your body to move and to give him the rope, your hand briefly brushing against his bigger one. 

You can only watch his massive hands deftly tie the knot you’ve been struggling with, somewhat amazed at how easy it is. With a loud thud he puts the knot down in front of you on the table, an arrogant look in his eyes. “I’ll keep this in mind for the interview tomorrow, recruit.” His words are nothing short of a threat and you feel dizzy. That you’re entire future depends on this asshole and a fucking knot is ridiculous! You look down at the perfectly tied knot and ignore the admiral disappearing. 

.

.

.

You are usually not nervous before interviews but today is different. You feel like throwing up and your hands are shaking. Not only will you be stepping in front of Sakazuki very soon but he will also decide on your future. Some of your comrades have already come back but so far none of them seems to have been kicked out. Nevertheless, they looked terrified. 

Another thing that bothers you is that you can’t anticipate how long the interview will be. Some of the others came out after 10 minutes, others stayed inside for 20-30 minutes. No way the admiral will be able to interview each and every one of you in a single day. 

The door opens and Koby comes out, his face pale as a ghost. You look at him concerned but he simply sighs in slight relief. “Good luck”, he whispers as he slowly walks away. 

“Y/n!” you’re being called into the room. As soon as you enter, the door is being shut behind you and you’re alone with admiral Sakazuki sitting on the opposite side of the room at a big desk. 

He is wearing the standard dark blue admiral uniform but no tie. All his medals are decorating the left side of his chest and you wonder what one needs to do to earn so many awards within the navy. 

You stand in front of the door, whole body straight and a (hopefully) stern look on your face. Sakazuki looks up at you after opening a file – your file, supposedly. 

“Sit.” He orders you and without hesitation you follow his command and sit down on the opposite side of the table, taking your hat off.  

Sakazuki looks at you for a moment before looking down at your file. 

“So, recruit.” He begins, not even bothering to read your name even though your file is right in front of him. “I’ve read your file. Good academic carrier so far.” He remarks but you don’t feel complimented. You know there is coming more. 

“Thank you, sir.” You reply regardless. 

“What made you join the marines and not go to university?” you knew this questions would come and you have thought about the right answer all night. You wanted to tell the truth but you decided against it last minute. 

“I want to serve our country and give back to this great nation.” You reply instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. There is a short silence in the room before the admiral huffs. 

“Serve our country….give back to the nation….stop bullshitting me.” You freeze at his words and his harsh eyes bore right into you. 

“S-sir?” you dare to ask. 

“I asked you why you wanted to join the navy after school and I expect an honest answer. You’re already on thin ice. One wrong step and you’re gone….” He mused, his eyes never leaving yours. The fight or flight instinct wanted to kick in but you desperately tried to suppress it. Neither would serve you good in this situation unless you wanted to lose face completely. 

“I-“ you cleared your throat before starting over again. “I wanted to go to university. But it wasn’t meant to be. So I decided to join the navy. I plan on taking online classes later in my carrier but right now I am entirely focused on my training and becoming a good marine. 

“A good marine should be able to tie a simple knot.” You couldn’t help but look away as your face heats up in embarrassment. You hear him move and pull something out of a drawer. When you look up you see a long rope in front of you on the table.

“How would you tie an enemy’s hands when you’ve captured them and have only this rope?” you know you learnt this the other day but by God you can’t remember!

You take the rope in your hands, looking lost but you decide to improvise. Maybe you’d be lucky…

You start to cross both ends to start tying the rope but Sakazuki interrupts you. “Try it on me.” His suggestion is much more an order than anything else. You want to protest but he has already placed both hands on top of the table in front of you. 

You don’t want to tie his hands together; mostly because you are scared to touch the man in front of you. But you have no other choice. You reach out and take both his hands into yours; his palms are warm and calloused, the rough patches brushing against your own hands. You slide the rope underneath his hands and start winding the rope around them. You know this is wrong, you know there is a right way but you simply can’t remember. 

The admiral watches you and lets you finish, his expression unreadable but you know you messed up once again. When you tighten the tow ends and look up at him you are met with a disappointed and annoyed look. You press your lips together and wait for his judgement. He lifts up his hands so both of you can take a good look.

“Tell me what you did wrong, recruit.” He demands. You look at your work but remain silent. Frustrated with you lack of answer Sakazuki simply flexes his arms and hands and rips the rope apart, freeing his hands in the process. 

“This was a sad excuse of a knot but an even sadder excuse of an aspiring marine. You want to defend this country?” he huffs derogatorily and you shrink into yourself. 

“First of all, you never tie an enemy’s hands in front of them. Always on the back.” He gets up, grabbing a second rope from the drawer and rounds the table. You slightly glare up at him. Of course, this was a set-up. He deliberately placed his hands in front of him on the table and not behind his back. 

“I must’ve misunderstood the assignment, sir. I thought you simply wanted me to tie your hands.” You admit but this answer is no good. 

“The order was clear, recruit. Tie my hands like I was an enemy. Would you tie an enemy’s hands like this?” you shake your head. 

“This is pathetic.” He mumbles. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair, pulls you from the chair and presses your flat on the table. You gasp surprised and instinctively try to push yourself back up but the admiral has both your hands already grabbed behind your back, holding them  in an iron grip as his free hand slides around your wrists.

It doesn’t even take 10 seconds and your hands are tightly tied. You squirm underneath him, trying to get up but your tied hands combined with a single hand that is lightly pressing down between your shoulder blades is preventing you from getting away. 

“This is how you subdue an enemy.” You try to look at him over your shoulder but his hand moves to your head back again and presses your face onto the surface. You gasp, your legs kicking backwards to hit him but he steps closer and presses his body against yours. To be precise, he presses his legs against the back of your thighs, preventing you from moving at all. 

You struggle against your restrains but his grip only becomes harder. “Fuck!” You breathe out frustrated and give up, accepting your defeat and the likely end of your military carrier. 

“Pathetic.” He comments but lets go of you, pulling you from the table and onto your feet. You feel humiliated but suppress the tears that threaten to form in your eyes. You will not let him see your defeat, not Sakazuki. 

“You should just quit and save yourself from further humiliation which will come.” He says demeaning but you shake your head, “All due respect, sir, but I will not quit.” To underline your point you turn around to face him, the slight glistering of tears could vaguely be made out but either Sakazuki doesn’t see it or he ignores it. 

“I can be useful and I know I will be of value. I will not quit.” You look right into his cold eyes. Sakazuki remains silent for a moment before he steps forwarder, forcing you back and to bump against the table with the back of your thigh. 

“What will happen if you get captured?” he asks you, stepping another step forward and leaning forward deliberately slowly. You lean back instinctively, swallowing hard. You are not comfortable with this close proximity. 

“Will you be able to keep your mouth shut and not rat out your comrades?” he leans down further, forcing you to back up even more until your back is lying on the table again. 

Sakazuki places both hands next to your head, trapping you between his body and the table. 

“Y-yes, sir.” You affirm his question, forcing yourself to keep the eye contact. 

“Is that so? Even if they torture you?” his right hand traces down your arm until he reaches your hip. The warmth of his hand radiates through the fabric. It’s almost burning hot and makes you squirm under his touch. 

“Even if they do unspeakable things to you?” he continues, his hand moving upwards, riling your shirt up in the process, exposing your soft skin to his gaze. 

You let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, body slightly shaking under his touch. “Yes, sir.” You affirm once again, your heart hammering inside your chest. Sakazuki’s eyes slowly leave yours and instead travel down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and then the exposed skin on your stomach.

You have so many different feelings racing inside your mind but the most prominent one is what is he going to do? Is this even legal? 

The admiral leans down, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, his hot breath against your neck. Your body heats up when a low groan rumbles through his body, revibrating against yours. His hand traces your naked skin up, inching closer to your breasts. Your body arches against his touch and you have the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You know your pussy is wet from his short ministration and you want to be touched.

However, there is this small part in your head that screams at you that this is a trap. But this tiny voice keeps being pushed to the side with every touch from his big hand. You sigh and let your head fall to the side when his hand pushes underneath your sports bra and starts fondling your breast. 

A thin sheen of sweat has formed over your skin and you feel the heat inside your body. How did it come to this? This was supposed to be nothing but an interview! You know this isn’t right, but fuck! – his mere presence makes you feel things that should be forbidden!

Your mind is racing, trying to form a single thought but Sakazuki won’t let you. You feel his body shift, his legs nudging your legs apart and he presses his body between you. Your eyes open wide and you can’t hold back the moan anymore as his penis presses against you, hard and hot. Your hips rut up against his, wanting more friction. 

The admiral raises his body to look down at your flustered form, his right hand buried underneath your shirt.

“So pathetic. As soon as some man shows you some kind of attention you crumble like a cookie. Look at you. You’re so needy you will even risk your carrier to get that dick.” As if to emphasize his words he thrusts his hips forward against yours, forcing another gasp from your lips. 

Sakazuki lets go of your breast and pulls his hand out from underneath your shirt, leaving you breathless and flustered. Your slowly turn your head to look at him, his eyes giving no indication of his erect penis between your legs. 

“I am not pathetic….” You mumble. You don’t know why you said that but it was the only thing on your mind you could communicate with the marine above you. 

“And if I am then you’re as pathetic as I am.” You add, bracing for what’s about to come. Sakazuki lifts an eyebrow, surprised at your reply. 

“Care to explain why?” you swallow hard but know there is no going back.

“You are the one who initiated this. You are the one who felt the need to touch me. And you’re as aroused as I am.” Now it was your time to emphasize your words by pressing your hips against his. The admiral doesn’t answer right away, he simply stares at you. Then, the corner of his lips slightly lifts up, indicating a smile. 

“Gotta admit, you’re braver than you look.” He steps back, giving you some room but also robbing you of that sweet pressure between your legs. 

He pulls down your shirt, deliberately brushing against your breasts one last time before he pulls you up by your arm. 

He steps between your legs once again and reaches around you, his muscular body pressing against yours while his hands reach around you to untie your restraints. You sheepishly breathe in his cologne, his musk reminding you once again of the wetness between your legs. 

When your hands are free again, he drops the rope on your lap and returns back to his seat behind the desk. 

“Come to my office tonight after dinner.” He simply says without looking up, your file occupying his attention again. 

“Why?” you dare to ask. Sakazuki glances up at you, his eyebrow raised once again. 

“You are brave, not stupid, aren’t you? Follow my orders and we will get along well.” He simply said and waved his hand dismissively at you to leave. You murmur a “Yes, sir” and slowly make your way over to the door. 

“Oh, and one last thing, recruit. Bring that rope with you. I think I need to teach you some more knots.” Your face heats up one last time, your hand clutches around the fabric, and you hurriedly open the door to leave his office. 

What the fuck did  just happen?!

[chromotps]

16, 19, & 23 for shankace (or any other ship lol) for the wedding ask game! 🤗

😭😭😭 bless you Merry.... thank you for indulging me.......

16. Who married them?

I ran through a few options thinking about this. going off of that idea that a ship captain can marry people at sea (who knows how it works in One Piece??? 😂) at first I thought.... Luffy?? But while I think he'd be SO excited to do it, it could also be sweet for someone with more history/experience to preside. Maybe Whitebeard, if we're going for a full Marineford fix-it AU... Otherwise, maybe Rayleigh? Like, if he can settle down as a ship-coater for several years, who's to say he didn't pick up an officiant's license thingy in the meantime? That could be especially touching considering the Roger connection...

(I'm still leaning Rayleigh, but Luffy would be soooooo cute!! and Shanks and Ace could provide all the gravitas needed, with some of their soulful moments of gazing into each other's eyes :'). Luffy's definitely involved there somewhere, maybe as ring bearer, and other questions deal with best man so. yes. )

19. What was the ceremony like? Any highlights?

shdjlgf I'm so bad at coming up with these sorts of things. But I think the ceremony would start out understated—it's one of my favorite things about both their characters! Just, small-ish ceremony on a ship or pier, minimal decorations but maybe some nice subtle, eclectic treasures or bits of natural beauty around... Shanks has a particular way of presenting himself and honestly seems like he'd go for something very measured for the ceremony (the party, on the other hand, would be a different story. ditto with Ace! 😂 Yeah, in my head, Ace is already a bit overwhelmed at the fact of the marriage. He might want to keep it grounded as possible...)

That said, they probably manage to have a few extreeeeeemely sentimental touches (thinking about Ace and his sappy-as-hell tattoos and mementos... and Shanks' tendency toward small, meaningful gestures...) There's probably an exchange of some kind of symbolic matching thing. Rings, sure, but I've also got like... a hair accessory in my head now? there's something about "Red Hair Shanks" having this little glint in his locks, saying he's loved (and taken), and Ace securing his hair up with some gorgeous deep-red clasp...

omggg I did think of like. They really should do something with fire—maybe an exchange of candles? I had a few other ideas but they all felt too contrived... I really like, either the candles/something with flames combining, or the hair accessories. bc, like, there's also the softness of them weaving/delicately placing whatever it is into each other's hair....... gentleness after lives of harsh restraint..........,,,,,,,

and omg you know what flowers are all over the place there (hibiscuses). weeping, sobbing,

23. If the couple could describe their wedding in a sentence, how would they?

h m m ,

Ace: "It was... something I'd never even considered a possibility, and then suddenly—it was, and... it was." (at a loss for words tbh)

Shanks: "I'd say it was one of the loveliest, most sublime evenings on this earth, but then, that's every day with my husband." (and his voice goes a little funny on that last word, like he was going for smooth and playful but actually got choked up. just for a second.)

thank you again!!!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Top 5 comics that aren't bat related?

GOD okay I'm admittedly so so behind on my non-Bat comic reading because trying to read Everything Published In A 15 Year Period is fucking TIME CONSUMING, but! but but but!!! I have some fun ones!! also as always these are not in ANY particular order!

Thirsty Mermaids (Kat Leyh, 2021)

first off: yes we are including graphic novels! that's just a honkin big comic! nobody @ me! anyway, I read Thirsty Mermaids in one sitting on an airplane earlier this year and it was delightful. it follows three mermaid besties who turn themselves into humans and go ashore in search of booze, only to get stuck when the party mage can't remember how to turn them back. what follows is a mix of shenanigans and genuinely heartwarming character development as the trio cope with being landlocked and try to survive capitalism. there's a high potential for a story like this to get cloyingly oversentimental, but Thirsty Mermaids struck the right balance for me the whole way through and never went overboard.

also, the character designs are soooooo fun. look at them!

2. My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness (Nagata Kabi, trans. Jocelyne Allen 2016)

MLEWL is one of those books that actually completely lives up to the hype and then some, and it totally knocked me on my ass the first time I read it. I didn't really know what to expect going in, but I was totally blown away by how boldly Nagata's willing to share the ugliest parts of her life through this reflection. it's so much more than romance and yearning (and that isn't even really resolved by the book's end! Nagata continues to struggle with interpersonal relationships in later books, which you should also read!), and it felt really refreshing to see such an honest depiction of how much being depressed and anxious and insecure can just fucking suck. but at the same time, Nagata's ability to turn all of that into art and process what she's experienced in a really levelheaded way as she finds the will to grow and change is really affirming.

I have to give a special note of appreciation to the actual sex scene and how intimacy is negotiated between Nagata and the sex worker she hires, especially the ultimate realization that sex is just an act and losing her virginity didn't really change anything about why she was unhappy in her life. as a sex educator, I really appreciated the honesty and sheer practicality of how it was all framed.

3. Nimona (ND Stevenson, 2015)

hi okay yes basic bitch alert I'M AWARE, but I reread Nimona last year to remind myself of why I didn't want to watch the Netflix adaptation and I was so right for that, because OG Nimona fucks so much harder. it's heartfelt but also chaotic and violent and funny and deeply jaded; I think when I mentioned it in my monthly reading synopsis here I described it as weird art for pissed off queer people by a weird pissed off queer person. and I stand by that! if you haven't read it already or if you haven't in a while, it's right there waiting for you with an open invitation to burn the entire corrupt government to the ground.

I know the word feral is overused and therefore cringe but christ, comic Nimona is feral. come on, man. just let her kill your ex. he's a cop.

4. Superman Smashes the Klan (Gene Luen Yang and Gurihiru, 2020)

I had to get one DC comic in here, sue me! it's not Batman-related at all! it's a really rad Superman story that takes place in the 1940s and loosely reimagines an old radio serial, "Clan of the Fiery Cross," the was pretty much a 16-part hit piece on the KKK that was hugely successful in tarnishing their reputation and getting membership to drop. how cool is that? in this version we follow Lee family, Chinese-Americans who have just moved to Metropolis and are met with harassment from the local Klansmen, contrasted with Clark, early in his hero career, still figuring out the full extent of his alien abilities. you get some really nice parallel storytelling between the Lee kids, Tommy and Roberta, exploring what it means to be part of two different cultures at the same time Clark is going through something similar figuring out how to be a representative of two totally different planets, and it all works out in a way that's really sweet. now that I have a friend who's a baby I can't wait until he's old enough to get a copy.

it's an extremely comic book-y comic but in, like, the best way possible.

5. Hawkeye (Matt Fraction and David Aja, 2012-2015)

I can't believe I almost forgot to list tumblr darling Matt Fraction's Hawkeye! what do I even say about this series that hasn't been said already? I love the way Clint Barton is a sadsack piece of shit who's repeatedly ruined his own life, and I love rooting for him anyway because he's just trying so goddamn hard. and also because there's a teenage girl who stole his name and gimmick bullying him the whole time. (Kate Bishop you are everything to me and you will always be famous.) there are costumes and crime fighting but it's first and foremost a slice of life about a life that fucking sucks but keeps on trucking anyway, and that's so up my alley it's not even funny. a lot of the humor probably feels dated now but fuck it, the series is iconic for a reason.

MCU, eat your heart out.

bonus because I wrote out the whole thing and then decided I wanted to include a different one: Paper Girls (Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, 2015-2019)

I'd be lying if I said that the thing about this series that I love first and foremost wasn't the art, because Chiang's art is breathtaking and I'll read anything ever if he does the art on it. but it's also just a super cool twisty, time-bending story about four girls getting roped into some high sci-fi bullshit when they're just trying to finish up their paper routes the morning after Halloween and having everything go to hell around them. I really respect a series that is committed to being weird and doesn't really care if you don't understand what's going on for a decent chunk of the plot, especially because it all comes together in a way that's pretty satisfying. waiting to read the whole series in one big run once it was all published so that I could track all the little hints and clues and things coming together across time travel bullshit was mwah, delicious.

also more than anything it's a story about how you Do Not fuck with 12 year old girls, especially in packs, because they're metal as hell, and I'm really about that.

[gorgeousundertow]

for the hbo war ask game—s, v, and z! 💚

nonnnny <3 <3

S. Tag a blog I don't often interact with but really love their content - @saritasoyyo Hi hullo we're mutuals but we've never once spoken but hey we sure do seem to agree about a lot of things!! <3

V. I'll post a wee snippet - this is literally lifted from my outline for bradnate in a snowstorm. For context, Nate is in a hetero relationship and they're Just Friends and going Hiking. Tagged #onlyonebivouac.

They have sexytimes bc snuggling to stay warm. In Brad's head, yayyyyyy finally!

In Nate's head, oh no, i'm an imperfect human

Brad is so fucking sensitive that he takes the slightest bit of regret on nate's part to mean that nate regrets everything, overreacts and shuts down

they still very much want to bone but it's awful bc they're both hurting so much. nate bc he's destroyed his relationship and cheated and clearly it was for nothing and his heart is breaking. brad also heartbroken bc okay guess there was never any shot with nate, all that it ever could have been was a quick fuck

brad can't take it, goes for long walk. nate freaks out etc. brad comes back, nate declares love bc what does he have to lose

"i just need you to hear this, i don't expect anything from you" like he's all dejected

and brad just stares at him like you dumb motherfucker

Z. Yayyyyyy complimenting people is so fun

@almost-a-class-act you are consistently one of the most sensible and straightforward people I have the great pleasure of encountering. Plus you're very funny and kind and write The Good Shit.

@blood-mocha-latte you are one of the few people I can honestly say matches (nay, exceeds) me in Level of Enthusiasm and I love that about you. And then you go and write things that make ME very enthusiastic which is a wonderful little feedback loop.

@lamialamia you are my first and always fandom bestie. You put up with soooooo much from me, and can set a descriptive scene better than any ten people I know. Your fics are full of emotion, saturated with loss and hope.

@jenkil is there anything you can't do? funny, thoughtful, insightful, generous and you're a fucking amazing writer and artist??? I love the way you write, and I always really enjoy talking with you and would do so all the damn day <3

@screwby i am consistently amazed by how you not only capture the shapes of these men that I love, but their essence. I don't speak art particularly fluently, but when you draw Schwetje he looks Lost and Confused. When you draw Liebgott he is smirking. When you draw Roe he looks freezing. Plus, you know, I just love you a lot.

@ep6bastogne our tastes run very similar, and if you rec me a fic or a song or even a goddamn ship, i know i'm going to swoon for it. Your writing has an incredible specificity that I just can't get enough of. You can characterize a person or a situation in just the perfect line; ten words and I can see the whole thing. It's astonishing.

[shallowseeker]

Rambling about the Macleods and Castiel friendship today:

I looooove how Rowena and Crowley will go out of their way to annoy everyone:

Rowena (11x03)

Rowena: You wouldn't think a road trip with two such strapping lads could be this tedious. Shall we have a wee sing-song? Sam and Dean (in unison): No!

///

Crowley in early 12x03: YAY ROAD TRIP!

Unlike in the past, Crowley is making himself as ADORABLE AS POSSIBLE THIS SEASON, ESPECIALLY TO CAS. Hilarious change of tactics. Truly. Crowley and Rowena both want friends so badly!

Crowley singing!

12x03

&

Crowley singing again!

12x15

///

Crowley is ALSO blowing a lot of hot air this season. Which continues into the next episodes.

12x03

Cas, as usual, not reacting much to Crowley's attempts to wound. (This is partially why Crowley goads him; the game is in getting Cas to react, which... he almost never does.)

////

But it's is soooooo funny, though. Crowley calls himself a "Jay-Z" and a POWERFUL demon and keeps trying to make digs at Cas as only "kinda powerful"...

...and yet insisting Cas go ahead of him, BWAHAHA. I love Crowley so much. I never thought about how Metatron-coded hs is a lot of the time, and it's... hilarious. (I'm a huge Metatron girl, so.)

"You first, Cas, go go!"

//

Also, I'm 99% sure this is the era where Rowena notoriously flipped on Cas, deciding he was super desirable, and I'm 99% sure this drove Crowley insane.

///

Rowena is in her dating-any-men-possible era, and she instantly starts velcro-ing herself to Cas. Later we'll see her go, "Ooooh, is the handsome angel there. Hi, tweetie pie!"

////

But yeah. Metatron, Crowley, and Rowena want to be popular kids and have friends soooooooooooo bad and I love them all.

///

Literally, all Crowley wants from life is to steal Sam and Dean's (and Cas's) roles. As we saw in s10, he HATES work. He wants his life to be one long fun road trip, filled with booze and bar-hopping.

///

Also LOL at Sam assuming Rowena got some licks in and did some damage. I love that he has this wonderful assumption of Rowena's strength:

///

///

///

Crowley tries much harder than usual to muster up (transparent) bluster. He's feeling insecure, lost. He wants friends, family, security. I think he's partially throwing his weight around because Lucifer represents his deepest insecurity: his job.

Beating Lucifer is the last peak, and maybe if he climbs it, he thinks, his life will finally even out.

&

///

AHAHA. Crowley loves being annoying, and he loves trying to break Cas's poker face.

///

And speaking of uncool, Sam and Dean are pretty "uncool" this episode too, LOL!

&

VERSUS

Despite the others nagging him, it's CAS who establishes a rapport and gets the "in" this episode.

Cas does this being being unashamedly uncool, not being a yapping Hell-king, or trying to appear "hip" like Sam and Dean do.

///

And Cas's stoic heroism seems to rub off on him. Crowley, not willing to fight Lucifer for Rowena in 12x02:

Crowley, who deep down wants to be more heroic like Cas, Like "Superman"...

...Is now trying his best to be a little more of a hero, following Cas's lead (he says it's because he hates Lucifer, but we'll do Crowley take up for friends and even the rescued-girl-of-the-week in later eps: Stuck in the Middle (with you) AND Somewhere in Between Heaven and Hell.

///

A hero's entrance:

//

And again, I had a meta about this before, but it's sooooo interesting that Lucifer is using Cas as a Chuck-stand-in: "Took you long enough," like he's been waiting for Cas, specifically. Like he wants a reaction out of Cas specifically.

//

And you know what else is fun? Lucifer attacks Crowley brutally with a guitar

And two seconds later Cas doles out the same thing to Lucifer.

ANYWAY.

This is the era when Rowena starting referring to Cas as "the handsome angel," and he actually gets fidgety and shy about it, and Crowley is probably losing his mind over Rowena's developing crush on him, especially since Cas, by all appearances, treats Rowena so nicies in comparision to Crowley.

BUT! In the next episode, Cas is a little nicer to Crowley, playing along by calling him Agent Zappa. Seems like they're KINDA friends now.