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dilf-docs · 2 days ago

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High Heels, Hushed Whispers

harry castillo x younger fem!reader

summary: a black dress, high heels and a fancy dinner. that's all it takes for you to fall into harry's scheme. or, better said, trap.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, (eventual) smut, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl (yes that's a warning), slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt (sorry if this x reader fic is mischaracterizing u), ft. dbf!harry (love this trope so much and had to squeeze it in, my bad)

word count: 3,560 words

side note: i'm lowkey crashing out in FOMO so bad bc materialists won't release in my country until july 31th💔 the need to move to US for my master's just to inherit a lifelong debt but never missing out as a cinephile again,,, HhmmM also, streets saying we're getting the gladiator II treatment in the marketing sense💔💔 UGH WHY WON'T YOU CHOOSE BILLIONARE IN THIS ECONOMY? PEDRO PASCAL FACED BILLIONARIE??!! tbh i'm a hypocrite bc if pedro was poor i'd still chose him anyway... this is in honor of materialists NYC premiere today, hope my man goes 🕯🕯

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Picking up calls you shouldn't pick up is a lesson you've yet to learn. Damned be your work habits slipping up into your personal life.

"Let's see if I understand" from the other line.

You take a deep breath, pausing. "Yes?"

"You're going on a date and didn't tell me"

You roll your eyes, looking out the window.

"I would've told you if it was a date, Rach"

You were always a good liar.

"At least I could helped you pick your outfit" she whines. "Like old times!"

It's almost as if you can see her pouting through the phone.

"I would've let you" you concede, "but I already chose the dress you gave me last Christmas"

A fine red garment tailored in authentic silk that hugged your body just right.

"Great choice. That's a killer" then, there's silence, followed by a loud gasp that elicits another eye roll from you. "Wait. Don't tell me- You're already there!"

Your lips quirk up in a smirk. "Maybe"

"You are a terrible friend" but Rachel's words carry no real weight. "At least give me a clue?"

You remember the address, marked in the GPS screen in front of you.

"Boring"

"That's not a clue" she huffs, "everything's boring to you"

You look out the window, the mansion coming into your view.

"Extra boring"

"It's a social gathering, then. You hate those" and you hate how much she's right. Probably knows you better than your dad. Yourself even.

"Your silence proves I'm right" and again, you roll your eyes.

"Goodbye, Rach"

"At least find someone to take home. Your house reeks of loneliness"

It's a joke, but there's a weird pit in your stomach when you hang up. It shouldn't matter that much, but you can't keep pretending you are choosing to spend more time at the office, because going back to a place where the only sound is that of your own steps, echoing back to you, the surface and space looking so artificial, like a hotel room, has become some sort of torture.

Your driver, Joaquín, parks right in front of the entrance. Before he moves, you raise your hand.

"I can do this by myself. Thanks"

He knows better to contradict you and you don't know if you are convincing him or yourself.

"Have a nice night, Ms. y/n"

You open the door, sighing as the heels dig into the pebbled road. I'll try.

As he drives away, you can't help but think again what were you really doing here. It's not like you needed the money, so, again, why did you agree? Willingly accepting to help Harry and his friend, people who you could care less, the first even nearing enemy territory. But for some reason, the moment those brown eyes landed on you, it felt like yes was the only correct answer.

"Welcome, Miss. Can I see your invitation?"

You think it's pointless: would you've driven all the way here if you weren't invited?

"Here"

You don't know why but the moment you step in, your eyes search for him, Harry, as if your body moved on instinct. Betraying.

A waiter walks by and you take whatever it's on his tray, downing the liquid with a gulp. Once the small tingling buzz settles into your system, you find that easy practiced smile of yours: cold enough to be polite but not warm enough to be confused for anything more.

"Having fun?"

You spin, dress doing a little reveal of your bare legs, yet he doesn't even look your way, that kind of silent promises and respect faithful men hold onto when they've swore their heart to only one woman.

"I'm trying"

"That's the spirit" he chuckles, lowly. "Is there anything I can do to make your night better?"

You fake a pondering gesture.

"Maybe get you another drink?"

"Thanks, but I want to walk straight when I exit through that door"

"Smart girl" he quips, "but I hope you don't plan on leaving soon"

You take the time to look at him under the chandeliers.

"I have manners"

This man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes, a dark grey but still holding onto a spark for life, not dull at all. His hair matches his gaze, and so does his neatly trimmed beard. His face is aged, probably about the same age as Harry, if you were to take a guess.

"Paul" you recognize. "Paul Lauder"

Lauder offers his hand and a charming smile, like all the men from his circle have been cut from the same cloth: gentleman manners that hide calculating characters. Still, there was something about the man and owner of the house standing before you, that seemed genuine.

"Am I that easy to recognize or has my friend already talked about me?"

A million questions raise through your head. If he was talking about him, how did he know you knew each other? It was a given in your society, yes, but to speak about you both in such friendly terms? Or worse: had Harry spoken of you to his friends?

"Forgive me. I talk nineteen to the dozen"

Your body tenses at just the sound of his voice, and there he is, the man of the hour.

"Harry" Paul calls him, another gentle smile making its way to his face.

"The one and only. Don't tell me you know another one" he jokes.

He still hasn't looked your way, and you don't know why that makes your skin hot.

"You're irreplaceable, my friend"

Now you see why he insisted on helping him. Paul's a true friend: a rare gem, especially in New York's elite.

"This is y/n" Harry introduces you, "David's daughter"

Its only then that Harry looks at you. A fast up and down, barely noticeable, but you were an observer, always. Part of your work and charm, just what made you perceptive and deadly enough. His eyes linger on the open skin, in the cut of your leg, and then move to your face, gaze holding. Daring, almost. And the he chuckles. Harry fucking chuckles, the sound low and grave. A fuzz settles in your cheeks and you choose to blame the alcohol rush.

You desperately wish to know what Harry's thinking.

"Ah. So this is she" a knowing smirk makes its way into his mouth. Then, his eyes widen. "Wait, David? Oh, haven't you grown? Into an extraordinarily beautiful woman, nonetheless. You sure look like your mother"

The compliment feels paternal at best, but a knife slowly twists into your ribs at the last sentence. None of the men seem to catch this.

"She has" and Harry takes your hand from seemingly nowhere, body closer than you anticipated. Grabs your hand and kisses it like he means it. The other man observes it all in silence. "The belle of the ball"

"Except this is my birthday, not a dance" Paul banters, nudging the billionaire gently on his side, as if you hadn't gone completely at loss for words. You hated to be unprepared, yet Harry always seemed to turn you into a house of cards, his wind sweeping you off your feet.

"There's music" Castillo is quick to reply. "That has to count for"

Paul lets out an easy laugh. Then, looks over his shoulder, and you don't miss the way his eyes light up, unaware adoring smile on his face, the rest of the world reduced to a meaningless blur.

"It's my turn, I suppose" you don't understand what he means. "I want to introduce you to my wife"

You see Harry's body tense and smile falter by centimeters, barely noticeable.

So this is it. This is the part where you meet her. Your newest job.

Your eyes follow Paul's direction, only to be knocked breathless.

Her beauty is obvious, insulting even, making you uncomfortable in your own skin. It's in the way she carries herself, smiles all white, her teeth perfectly lined; blinding. Dress ivory and clean, making your red one feel vulgar in comparison.

You wait for the cold to hit you, but when Paul slides a hand across her back, resting behind not to claim nor brag, but to belong and feel her warmth, she smiles, not for the room, but to the man who looks at her like she makes life worth living.

You're confused.

"This is Grace" he introduces her, proud.

The woman shakes your hand. Even her gestures seem the perfect mixture of delicate and proud. You tell her your name and suddenly, she's smiling again.

"Pleased to finally meet you. Harry has talked so much about you"

His stare burns from your side. So he has indeed talked about you before. You decide not to dwelve too much on how that makes you feel.

"Alright, that's enough" he laughs, clipped. A hand slides across your back, and it feels deliberate.

An instrumental cover of an old 90s ballad you can't quite place begins to play.

"This is my favorite" Grace beams, green eyes sparkling with joy.

"I know. That's why I asked it to be played"

She swats his chest playfully while yours aches with a silent press. Grace links her arm with Paul and gives you a goodbye smile.

"I'll leave you two alone. I have an important dance to attend"

Before going, Paul gives Harry one last look, one you can't decipher. Your breath feels oddly constricted.

"Just us again. Is this perhaps fate telling us something?"

You scoff.

"That I should go home"

"Is that so? Didn't take you for a downer" Harry laughs.

"I'm not" you protest like a child, embarrased.

He's enjoying this, by the way he smirks. "I don't believe you"

"I don't care" but you keep looking on his direction.

"Fine. How about this? Give me a dance and I'll believe you"

You face him, annoyed.

"Do you ever stop doing business?"

He just offers his hand.

"Quick. Offer's expiring and everyone's staring"

Harry's right, though. You hate their whispers and looks, so, be it the pressure or way your heart beats when his fingers slip between your own, you concede.

"Just one. You're lucky I don't like unwarranted attention"

He guides you to the center.

"You better get used to it. You're a natural"

The soft strings and notes of jazz waft through the air. Grace and Paul laugh somewhere to your side.

"But I hardly know this beauty by my side"

You might break your neck with how fast you raise your view, stuck before on the sway of your feet.

"Huh?"

"Lady in red?"

His hand softly caresses the silk of your dress, like a wind breeze.

"Me?" you ask, voice caught in your throat.

Harry laughs. With or at you.

"No, the song"

That's why it was vaguely familiar.

He quirks an eyebrow. "Don't you know Chris de Burgh?"

"All I know is my feet are killing me"

"So dramatic" yet his voice is soft. As the cello hidden behind drums and bass. Too soft. Stable as the Roland TR-808 drum machine for the drum pattern. Tension hanging like the synthesizer, acknowledged but not spoken of.

Harry had this effect on you. He just brought this side of you, a more unguarded side no one saw or dared to search for. Not even Rachel, who you spoke to. You talked to Harry. Because he looked past your walls. He tried. Took the time to pluck brick by brick. Like it mattered. You weren't New York's most sought-after divorce lawyer nor David Beaumont's daughter, just a girl who tried too much and is tired of doing so, and had finally been seen: the eyebags and the pleading eyes. The yearn for something she would never say outloud, between pride and the refusal to name something she can't even name.

"We always end up dancing" you comment, hand firmly holding his. Because it has become too much, and you'd rather go back to the light swimming than the drowning.

"We always end up doing the same things"

You think about the first time you met him. Not the very first, but the one you saw Harry Castillo for the first time.

It was at your father's fourth wedding, with a woman you can't seem to remember by face nor name.

"I hate weddings" you had said, not expecting to be heard but to be understood; the entlitement of your silver spoon was inherit. You felt as if you were wearing a costume of some sorts: a polished aspect that hid that bitter taste of seeing your father's failure and betrayal all over again, front row. You saw by the corner of your sharp eyes the way Harry tensed, unsure if he should even acknowledge you. So you sat in silence for the rest of the ceremony, answer hanging in the air, and when your father swore an expiring love again, you walked out, not before sparing one last glance his way.

He did too.

It made you falter a bit, unsure, almost tripping on the bench. For a moment, it seemed like he could see what you hid: the light tremble in your hands, the unopened invitations yet showing up at the last minute because you had no one else in this life, and how, despite your cruel jokes and harsh words, your eyes turned glassy when you allowed yourself to look at the bride as a kid looks at the shiniest toy behind the display, forbidden to be touched. For a moment, Harry Castillo saw the little girl who wore the heavy crown of a last name, words and grown face like an armour.

"I hate you"

Or maybe you fear him and the way he picks the scabs of your best hidden wounds, searching for the meaning of you past the shells of healed by force scrapes.

He closes his eyes, feigning hurt. "And here I thought we've gotten past base one"

"I hate you" this time sharper. You wish you could mean every ounce of venom laced within.

"You don't mean that" softly, like his gentle tug on your dress. Like the calm of your storms.

No answer, but the tiniest phantom of a smile graces your lips.

"Tell me about Grace"

Harry's grip tightens on your hands. "What about her?"

"I don't think she's the villain you're trying to make her be"

He narrows his eyes. "Give it a few days. She's just a pretty face"

"You say it like that's all there is"

"No" he's quick to answer. Then pauses, probably pondering. "But it certainly helps"

He looks at your lips. Under the lights, it's hard to distinguish if the red across your face is of anger or just a blush.

"Harry-" you beg without knowing why. A greater woman wouldn't.

"What?" like he's dealing with a naive kid.

"Don't lie to me" you seethe.

Not you. Everyone but you.

The song keeps playing in the distance, yet all you can hear is the ringing of your ears.

"I'm not"

It's pathetic to care this much about someone you claim to despise, finding hurt in a rift across the laces of trust in such strange interwoven bond. A phantom thread.

"Where are going?"

Your feet develop a mind of it's own. You don't spare him a glance, breathing suddenly a difficult task.

"Outside"

The cool evening breeze hits you. So does the smell of water, the soft sounds of a fountain in the background.

"At least this time it's a garden"

You and balconies. Another of your rules broken. By Harry, again.

"What are you doing?"

You admire his persistance. With shaky fingers, you reach for one of your dress' pockets.

"Thinking"

"It's such a nice evening to be doing that" as if nothing happened.

You roll your eyes, pulling out the lighter with your mother's initials.

"I'm trying to think who is lying to me"

His face falls.

"Y/n" as a warning, maybe a plea. "The answer is obvious. You don't know her, but you know me"

"I don't" you cut, harsh. "As you don't know me either"

You keep saying the same words, as if they were a shield of some sorts, to protect you from falling under his spell.

Harry Castillo scoffs.

"I'm trying, trust me. But you never make it easy" then, his charming smile is back on, slipping on it like a costume of some sorts. Tailored suit: just for him. "Lucky for you, I'm not a quitter"

"Do you have a cigarette?"

His face betrays surprise. Still, he pulls a Marlboro Gold and hands it like a peace offering.

"You said you quit"

The light flickers, smell of nicotine mixed with that of the flowers of the night garden.

You hold his gaze. "I'm not a quitter"

Harry pulls one of his own too. Takes a long drag, tired, before asking.

"Do you want the truth?"

You face him, expression unreadable. A weak smoke cloud billows over your eyes, masking their shine.

"I don't care"

"Don't lie to me" he repeats your words, but instead of the severity of your own, his are laced with benignity.

"I don't care"

"I didn't want to be alone"

You take another drag, silent, wishing for louder words and not spaces of silence that leave your mind restless.

"Harry Castillo, who could buy all of Manhattan, can't find a simple escort?"

He scoffs, seemingly offended. "That's not what I meant"

But not for the accusation at his expense, rather at your lack of (or lack of wanting to) understand.

"Too low for you, I get it. Where all your model friends busy?"

"One, they're not my friends. I can count those with my fingers" he lifts six. "Besides, I doubt twenty something year olds would be friends with a forty-seven year old finance guy"

You take a drag. "What does that make us then, Harry?"

Harry exhales. "We aren't friends"

Your lips curve up. "And two?"

It's his turn to smile.

"I doubt they would choose to accompany me to an old people dinner instead of a night clubbing with their age appropriate friends" he casts you a look, deliberate. "What would you do?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

His smile widens.

"Tricked, but you are"

You smash the half burnt cigarette against a stone statue next to you.

"Grace isn't the problem"

"Sweet Grace may be eleven years younger, and we know what that means in our world, but God, doesn't that woman love Paul?"

You chuckle, lowly.

"Jealous?" you find yourself teasing him.

He casts you a quick look. "Of course I am"

Even if his tone is light and playful, there is a quiet longing laced within. You gulp harshly.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you"

Your heart shouldn't beat this fast. You chuckle, weakly.

"Elaborate"

"Of course you have to know everything, don't you? You can't help but want to understand it all"

You laugh. "Is that so bad?"

"It's very... you"

"Got it. I'm the bad I was asking about"

For the first time, you both join in laughter. It's so easy feeling this comfortable with Harry, you think. Like it's meant to be. All pretenses left behind for a moment of too loud unguarded laughs.

When the laughter dies, he takes one last drag before putting his cigarette out.

"It's because you're the only one who could play along and not make more out of it"

You're not sure you want to face him. Still, you do, offering a tight lipped smile his way.

"Because I'm smart"

"Of course, you're a Beaumont"

A beat.

"You could've told me"

He shots a look your way, eyebrow arched.

"Would've you accepted if I told you the truth?"

You ponder for a moment before answering.

"No"

"Be honest"

"No, but I would've told you to fuck yourself"

Harry smiles. "That's better"

You join him. "I could send a lawsuit your way for lying"

"I doubt that, divorce lawyer"

You let out a dramatic gasp.

"I went to law school. I know this things"

"I'd like to see you try"

"Are you challenging me, Mr. Castillo?" you dare, mischievous.

"Please, don't call me that. You make me feel old"

"That you are"

"You're impossible" he sighs. "Older, then"

The wind blows your hair a little wild. It gets on your face.

"We should go inside" you say.

"Yeah. We should"

You feel a hot rush through your face when his fingers remove the loose strands, touch delicate. His gentle ministrations find a way inside your tense heart, nesting inside in a pulsating soft ache.

He offers his hand. "Dance with me. As an apology"

"That sounds like another favor"

"Yeah. So we get more prying and envious glances thrown our way"

"I feel I'm getting the short end of the stick here"

Harry laughs. "I'm the old man with a pretty lady on my arm"

"The lady in red" and the color matches your cheeks and dress.

"Is dancing with me"

You take his arm. "Lyric?"

"Truth as well"

When you get back inside, Paul's eyes find you soon enough. You try not to think too much about the meaning behind his smile.

"So..."

"So?"

You take his hands first, diving in. They're warm, holding yours back without second thoughts.

"Let's dance"

And you do, trying not to feel special for being the one Harry Castillo chose.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas / 🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell @suzysface @joelmillerpascal @ennvsco @not-the-teen-witch (comment if u wanna be added!)

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hoe4hamzah · 24 hours ago

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BORN COUNTRY

⤷ A Hamzah Smut

──⋆. 𐙚 ˚

⤷ After your parents left you to help out with the farm chores, you find yourself bent over for the farmhand.

⤷ brat reader, mean hamzah, cunnilingus, fingering, sex

⤷ a/n: haven't written in forever so hop off my ass if this is shitty

──⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Living on a farm was NOT your dream in life. You were always a city girl, born and raised in Toronto, Canada.

When your parents got a divorce when you were 16, you were devastated, knowing your mom was going to move you away from your dream of being in the city.

That's precisely what happened when she remarried another man when you turned 18.

She met a man at a bar, and they'd been dating for the longest time, but eventually, they got married. This meant you and your mother had to move in with him and live on his farm.

You tried to be nice about the whole situation because your mother was in love, but you truly hated living in the country.

Your mother told you not to worry too much, that once college started you'd be back in the city. But it was the summer, which meant you were going to spend the next three months of your life spending time with chickens and smelling cow shit.

There were multiple occasions where you told your mother you would get your own apartment back in Toronto, but your step-father said if you did that he wouldn't be paying for your college.

They got married a month ago, meaning you've been living on this farm for some time now.

It wasn't crazy, there was no silo or fields of wheat, just animals that liked to smell and make noise.

Your agreement with your mother is that you would live on the farm for the summers between college, but you weren't doing any farm chores because your stepdad was able to do them before you came along, so he shouldn't need you now.

Although she was a little frustrated about your lack of care to help, she felt it was more important to have you around while she could.

There were plenty of times when your stepfather tried to get you to do some farm chores, but you were still able to get around the trick.

The thing about your mother and stepdad was that they hadn't gone on their honeymoon yet, wanting to get you and your mom moved in and settled before they celebrated their new marriage.

This didn't seem like a big issue until you realized that meant you would be responsible for some farm chores for a week straight.

The topic of you doing farm chores didn't go over well, causing crying arguments and teenage tantrums.

"It's not fair! Just because you guys decided to get married doesn't mean I should be responsible for something I'm not even apart of. while you're on vacation!"

Your mother shook her head, "Y/N, I never ask you to do anything, the least you could do is cover for your stepdad for the week"

"You have people do do half of this shit for you!" You argued, "Just pay them more to do it!"

"It's not about the money y/n, it's about the time. Hamzah isn't going to be able to do all of the things I pay him to do as well as what I do in the time frame he's given." Your stepdad argued.

Hamzah was the boy your age that your stepdad paid to help do work. He was the son of one of his best friends, usually over every day to get work done and maybe stick around for dinner.

You didn't really talk to Hamzah, only when you had to. He'd occasionally walk in the house to fill up his water or talk to your stepdad about something. He knew your stepdad for basically his entire life, more comfortable around the guy than you ever would be.

Unfortunately, there was no way you were going to win the argument against your family, meaning you were going to have to work alongside Hamzah in taking care of the farm.

You knew Hamzah was a nice guy, he was always very respectful to your family and knew what to say. But you never had much of an interaction with him yourself.

Once the week of work came, you were already dreading getting out of bed. What if you just faked sick and Hamzah had to deal with everything himself?

Deep down, you really wanted to do that, but you knew it wouldn't be right. You eventually got yourself up and ready, making sure you ate enough breakfast so you didn't throw up from the smell of an animal.

By the time you got outside, you could see Hamzah standing in the barn, taking two of the horses out and into the pasture. Once he saw you, he tilted his hat down at you, "Hey there y/n"

You smiled, arms crossed as you dragged your feet over to him, "Let's get this over with already"

"Well, someone's excited this morning," Hamzah chuckled, "Taking the horses out to the pastures, how about you muck the stalls?"

You looked at him with furrowed brows, "Muck... the stalls?"

He smiled again, "Clean them out, they're getting to be too gross for the horses"

You nodded as you watched him walk off. Pulling yourself further into the barn, you looked at the stalls. The appearance of the stalls made you want to gag, staring at the horse crap and dirty bedding.

Looking around, you found yourself a wheelbarrow, gloves, a broom, and a shovel.

You huffed as you dragged the items back towards the stalls, pulling the buckets of food and water out of both stalls.

Grabbing the shovel, you took it into one of the stalls, shoveling up the bedding and plopping it into the wheelchair. The smell was hitting you quite hard, filling your nose with an odor that forced you to breathe out of your mouth.

The wheelbarrow was full when you were only halfway done with one stall, walking out of the barn to look for Hamzah.

You saw him out taking hay bales off a truck and stacking them under a gazebo. "Hey!" You shouted, "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Hamzah looked over, squinting at you to see what you were doing more clearly, "Oh, just dumb it by the side of the barn, we'll use it for fertilizer and compost"

You gagged at the fact that you were meant to use this to grow food, feeling like you were practically eating shit.

Dumping the wheelbarrow contents onto the ground, you went back and repeated the steps about three more times. Filling the wheelbarrow, then dumping it out.

Once you got most of it cleaned up, you picked up the rubber mats that were lying under the bedding and took it out to rinse off before sweeping everything out that you could.

Hamzah came over to check in on you, holding large bags over his shoulders, "Lookin' good!"

You looked over at him with an exhausted face, wiping the sweat off your forehead.

"If you could just put the mats back down and put the new bedding in that would be perfect, come find me afterwards and I'll find you something else to get done"

"There's more!' You whined, shoulders dropping dramatically.

"Realistically, we aren't even halfway done" Hamzah said, dropping the bags onto the ground, "You finish up here, yeah?"

You nodded as you grabbed the rubber mats and put them back down on the ground.

Trying to finish up quickly, you tore the bags open and laid down the new bedding, putting the food and water buckets back in the stalls.

You were exhausted, even though you barely had much to do. This wasn't your thing; you could be shopping or scrolling on social media, but you were stuck taking care of a farm.

You plopped yourself ontop of one of the hay bales, sitting in the shade under the gazebo.

You saw Hamzah in the distance, finishing up with whatever chore he was doing.

He eventually saw you sitting and made his way over, "How's it going?"

"I'm tired, and I don't want to do this anymore"

Hamzah chuckled to himself, "You've only worked about an hour, its not even noon yet"

You looked up at him in frustration, "I can't take a break?"

"Sure you can, but the longer the break, the longer you're out here"

You sighed, groaning at the work you had to get done.

"Alright, well what can I do then?"

Hamzah thought for a second, trying to think of something easy for you to do, looking you up and down.

"How about you go fetch the chickens eggs, should be plenty in there for ya"

You nodded before dragging yourself off the hay bale and towards the chicken coop.

You grabbed the basket off the floor before squeezing yourself into the shed where the chickens all ran around. You looked into each box where the chickens would lay their eggs, grabbing as many as you could see, sometimes having to swat chickens away from you.

You took the basket inside the house, setting it on the kitchen counter.

Deciding for yourself that you were done for the day, you went to your room to shower the barn stench off your body.

The warm water felt relaxing as it fell against your sore muscles. You stretched your arms under the water, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

Once you were done showering, you turned off the water and dried yourself off, stepping out of the shower. You wrapped your towel around yourself as you heard shouting from downstairs.

"Y/N" Hamzah shouted.

"Y/N, where are you?"

Your eyes rolled as you stommed down stairs, marching over to see what Hamzah wanted.

"Y/n, there's still stuff we have to do today-" His words stopped once he saw you.

His face showed shock, wondering why you were clad in a towel. He wasn't trying to be creepy, but he couldn't help but look you up and down.

"W-what are you doing?" Hamzah asked

"I was showering, what are YOU doing?" You questioned back

"Well, we still have stuff to do, but clearly you're opting out on that," He said with an attitude.

"Hamzah I don't mean to be disrespectful, but we both know this isn't my thing"

Hamzah took a deep breath, trying not to show his frustration, "I understand, we'll reconnect tomorrow"

Except, tomorrow was no different. Hamzah dragged you back out to the barn to feed the animals and milk the cows.

You sat there on a milk crate, elbows resting on your as you dripped in sweat. The bucket in front of the cow in front of you was as full as it was gonna get.

To be honest, you didn't even know you knew how to milk a cow.

You were already wanting to be done, having fed the animals and milked the cows. Realistically, you were doing less work than yesterday, but somehow you felt just as tired.

Hamzah walked into the barn, checking up on how you were doing, "Hey"

You looked up at him, sweaty and tired, "What now?"

"You could go weed the garden, we should harvest some of the vegetables tomorrow"

Rolling your eyes, you threw your head back

"Not to be rude, but does it look like ill be getting that done today?"

Hamzah chewed the inside of his cheek, "alright, well, guess you have to do both tomorrow."

Hamzah turned around, walking out of the house with clear frustration, sick of having to cover up for your lack of work.

It wasn't your fault, you weren't born to do this type of work, and usually your stepfather is the one helping him.

Unfortunately for Hamzah, there wasn't much of a chance of getting you to help.

The next day basically went just how you hoped it would. You slept in, spent the morning sitting in the living room watching a show.

You saw the UV was starting to get really high, deciding you should go outside and get some sun.

Wanting to get a big of a tan, you changed into a white thong bikini, one that was quite small but would give you nice tan lines.

You took yourself out onto the back patio, seeing Hamzah digging weeds out of the garden across the yard.

He watched you for a second, switching between questioning what you were doing and admiring your appearance.

Hamzah walked over, bocking the sun from his eyes with his hand, "What are you doing? Can't weed a garden in that outfit"

You sat down in one of the sun chairs, looking at Hamzah and rolling your eyes.

"Good thing I'm not going to weed the garden!" You spoke

Hamzah huffed, annoyed at your lack of compassion for him doing all of the work himself. "Y/n it's not funny, you've been slacking all week"

"Okay, and I'm just keeping you occupied"

Hamzah rolled his eyes, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight. "You have an hour, then change and come help"

You glared at Hamzah while he walked away. He's never spoken to you in such a stern and demanding tone.

Trying not to let Hamzah ruin your vibe, you kept enjoying the sun until your time was up. After the hour, he glarred at you from the garden. "Go change, then get out here asap!"

Groaning and rolling your eyes, you took yourself inside. Instead of changing into something for gardening, you washed your sweat off in the shower and threw on a tube top and tiny jean shorts.

Going back downstairs, you saw Hamzah standing in the kitchen with quite a frustrated and annoyed look on his face.

"Seriously, y/n, I told you to change, not take a 45 minute shower and put on.. THAT"

"Well, I changed, didn't I?" You hummed, leaning against the back of the couch as he shook his head.

"And I said ASAP, didn't I?" Hamzah argued back, taking a step closer to you.

"Mhm, as soon as possible, and I changed as soon as I possibly could." You smiled

Hamzah pinched the bridge of his nose before lashing out at you, "You know what, y/n. I've tried to be nice to you this entire week, I let you off the hook with a ton of shit, I took over for you so you could go be a lazy princess, what the fuck is your issue?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "First of all, I'm not a lazy princess. Second of all, who the fuck are you to be telling me what to do!"

Hamzah grabbed the sides of your arms, slightly shaking you as he spoke. "You know what, you're right! You're not a lazy princess, you're the queen of being lazy! You've done jack shit here, and I've been working my ass of trying to do your work. This isn't about you being worthless, it's about you not being the fucking bitch you are and caring about having to put me through more labor and work I shouldn't be doing"

Your lips parted in shock, you had no clue Hamzah had all that anger built up in him. Part of you wanted to smack him in the face, but another part wanted to rile him up even more.

You gulped, collecting yourself. "Hamzah, do I look like someone who should be out in a fucking barn? Or getting on my knees and pulling weeds out of a garden?"

Hamzah laughed to himself before taking a step back, "You're right, the only time you'd ever get on your knees is to suck your entire schools dick"

Your jaw dropped, not expecting Hamzah to come at you with such a harsh insult. "Excuse me! You don't know anything about me!'

"Oh trust me y/n, I can read you like a book"

You rolled your eyes again, "Right, sure you do. You're quite the asshole, you know?"

Hamzah nodded, "Trust me, I'm not here to please you okay?"

"You wouldn't know how to please a girl like me anyways!"

Hamzah laughed, tossing his hands in the air before dropping them again. "See! All you think about is dirty shit. You're literally a whore, y/n"

You had nothing to say after that, silenced by his crude words.

Hamzah shook his head, "You're not saying anything because you know it's true"

"You know what, I WOULD rather be on my knees sucking dick than on my knees in a fucking garden!" You decided the only way you would win this fight was to take the only material he had against you, and that would be being a whore.

"And you genuinely think that's a good thing?"

"It's gotten me a lot farther than you think Hamzah"

Hamzah shook his head, not believing your bullshit.

"Of course it has y/n" Hamzah smirked getting a little to close to you, "and what does that mean?"

"It means I've gotten just about anything I want," You whispered, getting equally as close to him.

Hamazah looked back and forth between both of your eyes, figuring out his next play, "how so"

A smirk grew on your face, then a small lip bite. Your eyes trailed down his body before you put your hands on his chest to back him up a little.

Hamzah watched your actions with a straight face. He knew exactly what you were getting at, but only played dumb.

You pulled yourself to your knees, pressing your palm against Hamzahs clothed cock while undoing his belt with the other,

You smiled while biting your lip, looking up and making eye contact with him while you massaged his dick.

His dick started to harden as you pulled it out of his clothes, yanking his jeans down to his ankles.

You heald his cock in your hand, slowly sliding it up and down, kitten licking the tip.

Hamzah took in a deep breath once you put his cock in your mouth, letting you slide it down your throat.

He knew this wasn't right, but he also knew he could tame your brat behavior. Hamzah understood your motives; you were going to use this as an opportunity to avoid doing farm chores for the rest of the week.

Although he should have stopped you, he didn't, though, he wasn't going to go easy on you.

You started getting more aggressive, sucking his cock faster, massaging his balls with one hand, and stroking him with the other.

Hamzah's eyes closed as his head fell back, breathing slowly. You pulled yourself off his cock and looked up at him, flashing him a smile and a giggle.

He looked down at you and furrowed his eyebrows, not thinking you were going to stop there.

"See!" you smiled, "I'll suck your dick whenever you want if that means I don't have to do the yard work"

There it was; you exposed your secret to him. Any man would have agreed, but Hamzah's not any man

"That's it?" He questioned.

You looked a little shocked. Did he expect more? Did you not do good enough?

"I- um. What?"

Hamzah shrugged, "I don't know, I guess I was expecting you to work harder than that. That's okay though, you tried. Now lets get outside and I'll show you what real hard work is"

"No no no! I'll do more! I promise, whatever you want"

Hamzah smiled, "Y/n, just admit it. You're not a hard worker, even when it comes to your own specialty"

You pouted, frustrated that you weren't getting your way. "What do you want them?"

"I want you to stop being a brat, you can't suck your way out of everything"

Shaking your head you argued, grabbing his dick with the effort to try again, "That's what you think"

Hamzah chuckled to himself while letting you suck his cock for a few minutes. Your face was showing frustration as Hamzah was showing boredom on his.

Pulling your mouth off his dick you looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Hamzah looked at you with a questioning face "What?"

"Why are you acting like you don't like it?"

Hamzah smiled and then shrugged, finding your frustration humorous. "I just don't think this is gonna go how you think, you've got quite the lesson to learn"

Before you could fully react to Hamzah's words, he pulled your body up and turned you around, bending you over the back of the couch.

With a gasp, you turn your head back and look at him, shocked by his actions.

Hamzah layed a harsh smack to your ass before yanking down your bottoms, smacking your ass again.

You bit your lip at his actions, his roughness and aggression turning you on.

Part of you should have stopped him, but another part of you knew this could convince Hamzah to let you not do farm chores.

Hamzahs hand slid to your cunt, gathering your moisture before sliding his fingers into you.

You felt yourself clench around his fingers, feeling him slowly slide the two fingers in and out of you, trying to loosen your cunt.

Hamzahs fingers perfectly stretched you out, readying you for his cock.

His fingers slowly pulled away, you whined at the loss of contact before feeling his cock press against your entrance.

Using one hand, Hamzah kept his cock lined up, pressing your back down with the other hand.

You felt a slow pressure as Hamzah started filling you up, causing your jaw to drop, letting out a soft moan.

You let out a hum as the tip of his cock reached the back of your walls. Hamzah gave you some time to adjust to his size before finally pulling himself back before pressing himself back in.

His thrusts were slow, but meaningful with demand.

Once you got yourself use to his size, you let yourself relax, letting out soft moans to his gentle thrusts.

Your moans signaled him to start thrusting a bit quicker, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, "Oh- my God Hamzah!"

"Just like that y/n, so fucking good" Hamzah grunted

You felt the pressure in your stomach build up, letting out whines and whimpers from the sensation.

"So fucking tight for a little whore" Hamzah spoke roughly

His degrading tone of his voice caused a tingle in your cunt, wanting more of him.

"H- Hamzah, please"

"Please what baby? You wanna cum angel?"

You nodded, eyes rolling back from his aggressive thrusting.

"You cum whenever you want, baby"

Hamzah hit another smack to your ass before both his hands tightened on the sides of your waist and roughly ramming into you.

The pressure inside you was so close to releasing, ready to cum on Hamzah's dick.

You tightened around his cock, trying to fight the sensation to make it last longer. Hamzah smirked at your efforts, slipping one of his hands to your clit to make you more needy.

That's when the pressure built up so intense that you couldn't keep yourself contained.

You felt your legs begin to shake just as you started cumming, "There you go sweetie, just like that"

You whined as you felt yourself come down from your high, whimpering as Hamzah was still chasing his own.

Hearing his quiet breaths and grunts, you knew he was close. You squeezed yourself around him, making yourself tighter.

His fingers tightened around your waist as his thrusts became very scattered.

Hamzah pulled himself out of your cunt before releasing on your back, muttering "Fuck" under his breath.

The both of you continued to catch your breath before you looked over your shoulder at him, giving himself a smile with a lip bit.

Hamzah grinned softly, "Now lets get you cleaned up so you can come help with the garden" leaving one small smack to your ass.

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah #hamzah fic #hamzah smut #hamzah x reader #slushy noobz

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stargrillzz · 1 day ago

Text

MAD IN LOVE

SUMMARY: endless mixed feelings, no matter how bad it is, it doesn't seem possible to get him out of your head.

NOTE: you always return to where you were happy, and I was happy reading Rafe's fics.xoxo

DIFFERENT

The music store wasn’t glamorous, but it had a heartbeat.

The soft buzz of vintage amplifiers, faint hum of a guitar track looping through the speakers, and the smell of old records and pine cleaner gave the small space its own kind of rhythm. You leaned against the counter, tapping a pen idly on the register while watching the minute hand crawl toward closing time. Twenty more minutes. Just twenty, and then freedom—then surfing, laughter, sunlight, and the only real family you'd ever known.

The bell above the door chimed, and your tired gaze lifted lazily. But then you smiled, immediately brighter.

Kiara and Sarah swept into the store like a gust of salt-tinged wind, both wearing messy ponytails, sandy shoes, and the smug grins of girls carrying a secret.

"And those happy faces?" you teased, pretending to squint suspiciously. "Did John B finally ask you to marry him?"

Sarah laughed, her head tilting back. "Almost."

Kiara bumped her hip against yours and leaned on the counter. “Tonight’s the party of the summer. So before we even touch our boards, we’re going shopping.”

You grimaced playfully. “Shopping. Right. With which money? Because my wallet is currently crying in a fetal position under my bed.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You’re dramatic.”

You lowered your voice. “Guys, I seriously can’t spend anything right now. Rent’s due and—” You paused, embarrassed. You hated how easily your reality bled through when you least wanted it to.

Sarah immediately cut in. “Then we’ll go to my place. Problem solved.”

You raised a brow. “Are you serious?”

She gave you that look—confident, kind, impossibly golden. “That’s what friends are for. You think I don’t hoard half the store every time I go into town? You’ll leave my closet looking like a goddess.”

You hesitated, heart full but pride bruised.

“Come on,” Kiara nudged. “Let us spoil you for one night.”

You finally smiled, cheeks warm. “Fine. But only if I don’t have to wear heels.”

—

It was strange how quickly you forgot where you were until you were standing in front of the Cameron estate.

It rose like a monument out of the trees, all white walls and clean-cut hedges, expensive silence hanging over it like fog. You always felt slightly out of place there, like your presence upset some invisible balance. But Sarah made you feel safe—Kiara too. So you followed them up the stairs with a surfboard bag slung over one shoulder and your old Vans squeaking against the polished floors.

Laughter echoed through the upstairs hall as Sarah opened her bedroom door, beckoning you in. You stepped into her light-drenched room, already eyeing the walk-in closet like it was Narnia.

“Just grab whatever speaks to you,” Sarah said, tossing you a pair of jeans. “We’ll mix and match.”

But before you could even make it to the pile of tank tops, you felt something.

That presence.

The energy in the air changed like a cold draft slipping through a cracked window.

You turned—and there he was.

Rafe Cameron.

Leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, that same unreadable expression on his face like he was always thinking something he’d never say out loud. He didn’t flinch when you looked at him. If anything, he smiled.

Slow. Crooked. Like he’d been waiting.

His eyes flicked down and then up again, pausing just long enough to make your skin feel hot.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said casually, voice thick with something you didn’t want to name.

You didn’t say anything. Just blinked.

Kiara saw him next. Her shoulders tensed immediately, lips pressing into a hard line.

“Keep walking,” she muttered under her breath, hand brushing your lower back as she guided you forward.

You followed her lead. Not because you were afraid of him. But because you weren’t sure what would happen if you didn’t.

—

Half an hour later, Sarah’s bed was covered in clothes. Your arms were full of borrowed outfits. Kiara was arguing with Sarah about the superiority of combat boots over wedges when you excused yourself.

“Be right back. Bathroom.”

You slipped into the hallway quietly, head down, trying to remember which door was which.

And then—

“Hey.”

His voice froze you.

You looked up, halfway between fight or flight. Rafe was standing just a few feet away, like he’d materialized out of thin air. Maybe he had.

He looked different in this light. Softer somehow. Like the sun spilling through the window had rounded out the sharp edges of his face. But his eyes—his eyes were still the same shade of blue that made you feel like the tide was about to pull you under.

“What do you want?” you asked, arms folding instinctively.

He didn’t move toward you. Not yet.

“You look really pretty today,” he said simply.

There was no smirk. No arrogance. Just honesty. Raw and unexpected.

Your breath hitched slightly. You weren’t used to kindness from him. At least not the kind that wasn’t wrapped in tension or sarcasm.

“Thanks,” you said, quieter than you intended.

“I mean it,” he added.

You nodded once. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He stepped back, barely.

“I’ll be downstairs… if you wanna hang out,” he said. “Watch a movie or something.”

You stopped.

The ask wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t pushy. But it felt dangerous anyway. Not in the way he looked, or the things he’d done—but in how you wanted to say yes.

And you hated that.

“No, thanks.”

He tilted his head, almost disappointed. “Why not?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Because it doesn’t make sense. Because we shouldn’t. Because I don’t want to.”

That part—I don’t want to—wasn’t even fully true. But it had to be said.

He looked down. Then back up.

“Why not?” he repeated, softer this time.

Your stomach twisted. “You know why. I’m not the one to stop you. I’m not judging you. Believe me, I’m the last person who would. But I can’t act like nothing’s happening when you go through life hurting and humiliating the people I love.”

You let the words settle. He didn’t move.

“You might be kind to me,” you added. “But you’re cruel to them. That’s not nothing. That’s not invisible.”

He blinked once, slowly.

“I’m not the villain you think I am.”

You shook your head. “You’re not the villain I want you to be. That’s the worst part.”

He took a small step forward, almost pleading now. “I don’t know how to be different with them. With you... it’s not the same.”

“But we are the same,” you whispered, voice cracking. “We both come from chaos. But you keep choosing to burn everything that loves you.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared at you like you were the first real thing he’d seen all day.

You turned toward the bathroom, hand on the door.

“I’m not the one who needs saving, Rafe. Not this time.”

And you stepped inside, closing the door gently—but firmly—behind you.

Leaving him alone in the hallway with nothing but your words echoing in his chest.

BURNING STARES

The Chateau buzzed with energy, still carrying the scent of sunscreen and sea salt in its beams. The walls had soaked up the heat of the long day, and now, as the sun dipped low and gold streaked across the horizon, the entire place vibrated with anticipation. Everyone was getting ready for the beach party — but when you stepped out of the room Sarah and Kiara had transformed into a mini salon, everything stopped for a beat.

Your boots clicked softly on the wooden floor as you walked down the narrow hallway, smoothing your palms over your thighs. The makeup was subtle but transformative. The black halter crop top showed just enough skin to make your nerves hum, and the fitted skirt — borrowed from Sarah — hugged your hips like it was made for you. You’d never worn anything quite like it before. Never felt quite like this before.

As you walked into the room, John B’s eyes widened like he just saw a UFO. “Holy shit.”

You raised a brow, arms crossed. “What?”

He grinned. “I didn’t know you were a woman.”

With a dramatic gasp, you hurled a pillow at his head but laughing your ass off.

Pope looked up from the couch, a kind smile lighting up his face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Pope.” You softened, touched in a way you didn’t expect.

And then — of course — came him.

JJ was leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand, his button-down open, windblown blond hair still messy from the beach. He was grinning before you even looked at him.

“Damn,” he whistled, scanning you head to toe with a slow, exaggerated motion. “I think I just got a boner.”

You laughed under your breath, but didn’t look directly at him. That only egged him on.

“Like, for real. That outfit should come with a warning label.”

You finally turned to him, lips curving. “And what would the warning say?”

“‘Caution: May cause cardiac arrest in blond degenerates named JJ,’” he said proudly.

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You’re a menace.”

JJ winked. “Tell that to her.” He leaned toward you just enough to drop his voice. “So, if I play my cards right, any chance I’m your date tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “You gonna buy me dinner first?”

“Pfft. I’d steal you dinner and build you a raft to sail away with me. I’m romantic like that.”

You snorted, shaking your head as Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you toward the door. “Come on, seductress. If you make him flirt any harder, he’s gonna trip over his own ego.”

JJ called after you, “I like tripping over you!”

You didn’t answer. But you smiled all the way to the beach.

The party was everything a summer night should be.

Bonfires crackled up and down the shore, casting flickers of orange across bronzed skin and wind-tousled hair. People danced barefoot in the sand, their laughter swallowed up by music that pulsed from cheap speakers tied to pickup truck beds. Someone was handing out rum in coconuts, and there was more weed in the air than oxygen.

You let the rhythm guide you, moving easily between groups, sipping something sweet from a red Solo cup. JJ found you every few minutes with another dumb compliment or joke, throwing an arm around your shoulders and whispering things that made you laugh louder than you meant to.

“You sure you don’t wanna dance with me?” he asked at one point, his hands already extended like he was about to twirl you.

“I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, walking off with determination toward the coolers.

For a while, it was perfect.

But as the night wore on, the crowd felt heavier. Louder. Hotter. You found yourself needing air, needing quiet. You slipped away, climbing up the dunes just far enough that the music dimmed to a heartbeat and the ocean waves became clear again, curling and collapsing against the shore.

The stars above you were sharp and infinite. You hugged your arms, breathed in deep, let the night wrap around you.

And then—

“You always sneak off when you look that good?”

Your heart jumped.

You turned fast.

Rafe Cameron stood at your side, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on you like he already knew every thought in your head.

You hadn’t even known he was at the party. You definitely hadn’t seen him arrive. But now he was here. Too close. Too real.

You tried to control your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching you,” he said simply, his eyes drinking you in. “Clearly.”

You narrowed your eyes. “This is a Pogue party. Thought you’d rather die.”

“Maybe,” he smirked, stepping forward slightly, “but you make dying look like a good time.”

You turned your head, pulse racing. “I didn’t come here for drama.”

He tilted his head, voice dropping. “No? Then why are you dressed like that?”

Your stomach twisted.

“I don’t owe you an answer,” you said flatly.

Rafe didn’t back off.

“JJ seems to think he’s got a shot with you,” he murmured, eyes dark and hot. “He’s been all over you tonight. Laughing, touching. All that boyish charm shit.”

“He’s my friend.”

Rafe’s lip curled. “He wants more than that.”

You crossed your arms. “And what—you’re jealous now?”

“I’m not jealous,” he said. “I’m pissed.”

You blinked. “That’s worse.”

He stepped even closer.

“I’m not gonna pretend to like your friends,” he said, voice rough. “I don’t give a shit about them. And I’m not sorry for anything I’ve done. But I see the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching.”

He was right in front of you now. His scent — that stupid mix of salt and sweat and expensive cologne — wrapped around you like a noose.

“You could hate me,” he whispered. “I’d still want you.”

You swallowed hard.

“This is stupid.”

“Maybe,” he said, his hand brushing your arm. “But tell me to leave.”

You didn’t.

He leaned down, voice a little breathier now.

“You shouldn't look that good,” he whispered near your ear. “Not if you’re gonna act like I’m not allowed to want you.”

Your breath hitched.

And then his mouth was on yours.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was all teeth and heat and fingers gripping your waist like he wanted to brand himself into your skin. You hated how good it felt. How your body leaned into him before your brain even caught up. How easy it was to fall into him, to let yourself forget.

But it didn’t last.

The sound of someone calling your name in the distance broke the spell.

You gasped, pulling back. Your lips were swollen. Your mind scrambled.

“I—I have to go,” you stammered, stepping back fast, avoiding his eyes.

Rafe didn’t follow. Just watched you with that same unreadable expression. Hungry. Possessive. Like he’d just gotten a taste and would never stop now.

You didn’t look back.

But all night long, no matter how close JJ stood beside you, you felt him.

Watching you.

Like he already knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

I WOULD NEVER

The music store wasn’t busy that morning.

A few people came in, aimlessly browsing old records or asking if you had aux cables. The place always smelled like vinyl and dust, and the hum of the ceiling fan above kept the air from getting too heavy. You’d been restocking the cassettes in the back when the little bell on the front door rang.

“Hey, welcome in,” you called out over your shoulder without really looking. Your fingers continued shifting through a disorganized pile of tapes.

Silence.

You turned.

And froze.

There, standing in the middle of the store like he belonged in another world entirely, was Rafe Cameron.

And he was holding a bouquet.

It wasn’t a small, gas station arrangement either. It was large and beautiful — too many deep red roses, eucalyptus, something else that looked expensive and probably wasn’t even local. Wrapped in dark brown paper and tied with a black ribbon. The kind of flowers no one in your life had ever given you.

He wore a dark t-shirt and loose jeans, one hand tucked in his pocket, his jaw sharp and his expression unreadable.

You blinked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“At my job?” Your voice edged toward a whisper. You glanced toward the front door like someone might walk in and see this happening. “Rafe—”

“I wanted to bring you something.”

He took a few steps closer and held out the flowers.

You didn’t move.

“Is it some kind of joke?”

“No,” he said, voice steady. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

You couldn’t answer. Because no — he didn’t. He looked serious. Too serious. His face was calm, but his eyes burned, locked onto you like a laser. You took the flowers from him slowly, still watching him like he might do something impulsive.

“They’re… pretty,” you said, uncertain. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

You placed them gently on the counter. “Why?”

He smiled, slow and strange. “Because I’ve been thinking about you.”

You swallowed. Hard.

“Last night—” he started, and stopped. “You looked so good. I couldn’t stop watching you. And when you kissed me—”

“I didn’t kiss you, Rafe,” you interrupted, voice trembling slightly. “You kissed me.”

“And you didn’t stop me,” he said, that grin widening for just a second before fading. “You could’ve shoved me away. Slapped me. Screamed. You didn’t.”

You hesitated. Your heart was beating faster now.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” you said slowly, stepping back behind the counter like it might offer protection. “But this can’t happen. You showing up here? With flowers? That’s not… you.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t raised — if anything, it dropped lower. “You think that’s not me? You don’t know what I’d do to keep you. I’d give up everything else. I’d cut people out. I don’t need anyone.”

You stared at him. “You’re scaring me.”

His brows drew together. “Why? I’m being honest.”

“No, you’re being intense.”

He took another step forward, voice tightening. “You don’t get it. Whatever wrong I do — whatever fucked up shit I get into — I’d never hurt you. Ever.”

The way he said it made the air feel thinner.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly, like he was talking to himself now. “Your friends? They hate me. I know. That’s fine. I’d still burn everything down just to be close to you.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. The words were too big. The silence between you grew louder.

Then—softly, like a switch flipping—his voice shifted.

“You looked so sweet behind that counter,” he murmured, gaze dragging over you, slower this time. “Like you didn’t even know how hot you are. All innocent with your little name tag and messy hair.”

You took a shaky breath.

“I could fuck you right here,” he whispered. “I could make you forget why you hate me.”

Your hands clenched into fists against the counter.

“But I won’t,” he added, stepping back a little. “Because you’re not ready.”

That was almost worse.

You didn’t know what to say.

He looked down for a moment, then up again, softer — but not safer.

“I know I’m not easy,” he said. “I’m not trying to be.”

He paused. His eyes searched yours with something real, something twisted and honest.

“But I’d never lay a hand on you. I’d never scare you on purpose. I’d never be rough unless you asked me to be.”

You exhaled sharply, your chest too tight.

“I’d give you everything,” he said, almost under his breath. “Everything I’ve got. And I wouldn’t care who I had to hurt for it — as long as it wasn’t you.”

A few beats passed in silence. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears.

Then, as if it was perfectly normal, he nodded to the flowers.

“Put them in water, okay? They’re fresh.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out — the bell chiming softly behind him.

You stood frozen for a long time, hands trembling, heart caught somewhere between thrill and fear.

You weren’t sure what just happened.

But you knew it wasn’t over.

Not even close.

WRONG DIRECTION

The sun was soft on your skin — not harsh like midday, just warm enough to make your arms glow, stretched out on the faded towel beneath you. You’d come out here for yourself today. Just a quiet hour before going back to everything: work, the Chateau, the Pogues. You hadn’t even brought your phone, which was probably a mistake — but you were too tired to care.

You tugged your sunglasses down and exhaled, letting the sound of gentle waves and distant kids laughing lull you into a near nap. Your limbs were loose, your skin buzzed with sun. You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be this still.

Until you heard the crunch of footsteps in the sand behind you.

You turned your head lazily at first, expecting some tourist or someone asking to borrow sunscreen.

But then you heard his voice.

“Didn’t expect to find you here.”

You sat up quickly, heartbeat ticking faster before your brain even caught up.

Rafe.

He looked casual — in board shorts and a white tee that clung to his chest just slightly from the heat. His hair was damp like he’d just been in the water, but the moment he locked eyes with you, there was nothing relaxed about the way he watched you. He didn’t smile like a jerk or try to be cocky. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at you like you were the only person on the whole beach.

You cleared your throat and pulled your sunglasses off.

“Jesus. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to. I just… saw you from the other end.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Your towel was too small to look dignified sitting up, so you adjusted your posture, covering your legs and brushing sand off your chest. His eyes flicked down for half a second, but when they returned to yours, they were steady.

“You always come here to tan alone?” he asked, a quiet little teasing note in his voice.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged. “Didn’t know I needed permission.”

His smile twitched. “You don’t.”

He looked out at the ocean for a beat before glancing back. “I was gonna head home soon. Thought maybe you’d want to come over.”

You raised a brow.

“To your house?” you asked slowly.

“Yeah. Just to watch something. Hang out.”

You laughed once under your breath, not unkindly. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going over to Tannyhill with you.”

His smile didn’t fade. He stepped a little closer, voice softer. “You don’t have to stay long. If it gets weird, I’ll take you straight home. No pressure. I just thought—” his fingers flexed slightly in his pocket, like he was holding back— “maybe you’d want to just sit next to someone for a while. Without all the noise.”

You looked at him, lips parted, not answering yet.

He added, a little quieter, “We don’t have to talk about anything heavy. Just… a movie. Something stupid. Or funny. Or scary if you want to cling to me a little, I wouldn’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your smile betrayed you.

“Fine,” you muttered after a pause. “But if Sarah sees me in that house—”

“She won’t,” he said quickly. “She’s out with Wheezie, I think. You’ll be in and out before they even show up.”

You gave him one last skeptical look, but when you stood and shook the sand off your towel, Rafe grabbed it before you could fold it and slung it over his shoulder. He didn't say anything, but the small gesture made something flutter in your chest you tried to ignore.

The room was darker than you expected — cozy, even. Rafe’s room wasn’t what you imagined: clean, neat, a little cold, but there were worn corners, personal touches, signs of a boy who didn’t know what to do with comfort. He handed you a bottle of water and settled beside you on the bed, remote in hand.

The movie was something mindless. You forgot the title halfway through. You were too aware of how close he was sitting — not touching, but near enough that you could feel the warmth of his arm. Every now and then, he’d glance at you sideways. You’d pretend not to notice.

Half an hour in, he turned to you, elbow propped behind his head.

“You know you’re really fucking beautiful, right?”

You gave him a dry look. “That’s subtle.”

“I mean it,” he said, quieter now. “Even when you’re annoyed with me. Especially then.”

You tried to look away, but he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping.

“I think about kissing you every damn day. Do you know what that feels like?”

You swallowed.

“Rafe—”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said quickly. “I just… I want you to know I mean it. I meant everything I said at the store. I don’t care what I’ve done, who hates me, how fucked up everything is — you are the only thing that makes me feel like I have something to lose.”

Your breath hitched.

“Rafe…” you whispered again, but this time, there was no sharpness in it. Just hesitation. Vulnerability.

And he saw it.

His hand came up gently, fingers brushing your jaw, then your cheek. He didn’t rush the moment — just held you there like he’d been dreaming about it for years.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said softly. “Not even if you walked away right now. But I swear, if you stay... I’ll spend every second proving you don’t have to be afraid with me.”

You didn’t answer — not with words.

Instead, you leaned forward, slow and unsure, your forehead barely touching his. He didn’t move. He let you come to him. When your lips finally met, it wasn’t urgent or messy — just real. His kiss was warm and deliberate, like he’d been craving the taste of you, but he was afraid if he pushed too far, you’d vanish.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin.

You kissed him again. This time deeper. And he exhaled like it was the first full breath he’d taken in days.

It was just a kiss. But it felt like a turning point.

And for once, you didn’t pull away.

“Tell me you want this,” he muttered, mouth hovering over the spot just below your bellybutton. “Tell me you want me.”

You moaned, threading your fingers into his hair. “I want you.”

“Louder.” He kissed lower. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I want you, Rafe.” You gasped when his mouth hit the inside of your thigh. “I want you so fucking bad.”

That was enough.

His tongue was on you a second later — slow, skillful, filthy. He moaned into you like you were his last fucking meal. His grip was bruising on your thighs, dragging you closer, grinding you into his face with a kind of frantic reverence.

And when you came, shaking and breathless, his eyes stayed locked on yours — watching, claiming.

“Look at me when you fall apart. That’s it, baby. Let me see what I do to you.”

You barely had time to recover before he was kissing up your body again, lips slick, voice thick.

“You still want to stop?” he whispered.

You shook your head. “No. Please.”

He kissed you like he’d never stop.

You helped him out of his sweats — then he was over you, between your legs, eyes wild and full of everything he couldn’t say.

“You know what I am,” he muttered. “You know I’d ruin this whole fucking island if they touched you.”

You kissed him hard.

“I don’t care.”

He pushed into you slow — thick and deep — and both of you groaned like it physically hurt to be that close. His body shook with the restraint it took not to slam into you all at once.

“Fuck. You feel like heaven,” he hissed, forehead against yours.

You grabbed his hips. “Then take it. Take all of it.”

And he did.

Rafe fucked you like he needed to carve himself into your skin — hips snapping against yours, filthy promises spilling from his lips.

“I’ll kill for you.” “You were made for me.” “No one’s ever gonna touch you again. No one gets to see you like this but me.”

"Oh God" you scream. Feeling absolutely every inch of him growing harder and thiker inside you.

"You love how a fuck you, huh?" he kisses you harder "me cock deep inside you, giving it to you harder every time"

Every single dirty little word that came out of his tongue only made you wetter, and. that made him even harder.

"Maybe I should cum in you, what do you think?" he whispered "spill all my cum deep inside you so you're dripping every time for me, so every time JJ or any fuckying loser even smells you, they'll smeel me, that this pussy is mine"

While he was saying all this, he kept thrusting so hard, as if sticking it in you hard would make you stay with him forever. His thick cock was hitting every spot inside you.

WONDER

It started with the beach.

A week after that night in his bed, the two of you crossed paths again — like gravity pulling two doomed stars into the same orbit. You didn’t plan it. You were just walking along the dunes with your friends, the sunlight painting your skin, your sunglasses low on your nose.

Then you saw him. Standing under the pier, hands in his pockets, staring at you like a man starved.

You knew you shouldn’t have gone to him. Not with Sarah sitting ten feet away, not with JJ sprawled on a towel cracking jokes, not with Pope and John B shouting about a wave they were going to ride.

But you did.

You slipped away like you always did. Quiet. Breathless.

And Rafe was waiting behind one of the support beams, grabbing your wrist the second you were close enough, yanking you into the shadowed space between the pillars.

“Missed you,” he murmured, lips already dragging along your throat, his hand slipping under your bikini bottoms without preamble, his breath hot. “You know what I want.”

And god help you, you wanted it too.

You always did.

Then it was the bathroom at The Wreck. Then it was his truck behind the dunes after dark. Then it was the back of the music store during your shift — the door locked, his palm over your mouth to muffle the sounds you made.

You didn’t know how it became routine. Just that it did.

That every time you locked eyes, something in you clicked open. And something in him cracked.

You knew it was dangerous. You knew someone would catch on.

But every time Rafe whispered, “Mine,” against your skin — every time his hands gripped your hips like they were the only things keeping him sane — you forgot how to say no.

You forgot how to care.

Until one afternoon, back at the store, after a particularly breathless encounter where he'd bent you over the counter between stacks of vinyl, you slumped back into your chair, trying to catch your breath as you adjusted your clothes.

Rafe leaned down and kissed the side of your face. Tender, like it was all innocent.

But your heart was racing. Not just from what he did. But from what you felt.

You glanced at him, unsure. “Rafe…”

His thumb was already on your lips, quieting you. “Don’t.”

You pulled away just enough to speak. “What is this?”

He blinked at you slowly, head tilted like the question didn’t make sense.

“I mean,” you continued, “we keep doing this. Over and over. Like we can’t stop. But it’s just... it’s sex, right? I mean, it can’t be more than that.”

He was quiet for a second, watching you.

Then he stepped between your knees again, his large hands wrapping around your thighs, grounding you in place.

“You really think I’d let you give yourself to me like that,” he said softly, eyes dark, “and then just walk around letting some other guy touch you?”

Your breath caught.

He leaned in closer, his mouth brushing your jaw.

“You think I’d let someone else have you? Touch you? Look at you?”

You swallowed.

“You’re mine,” he growled, voice suddenly sharp. “And I’m yours. That’s all there is to it. Call it what you want, but this? this is everything to me”

“It feels like something else,” you said, voice quiet. “It feels like something real.”

He went still.

And then — with no warning — he kissed you hard. Not just hungry, not just rough.

Devoted.

The kind of kiss that made your skin feel electric and your spine melt. His hands curled tighter around your thighs, like he was scared you’d disappear.

“You don’t need to worry about what we are,” he said after he pulled away, breath still hot against your lips. “You feel it. I feel it. That’s all that matters.”

“But—"

“No.” He kissed your temple. “No doubts. Not about me. Not about this.”

You looked down, your chest aching. “This can’t last forever.”

He smiled then, slow and almost cruelly confident. “It will. You just don’t know it yet.”

Then he stood upright, adjusting himself like it was nothing, grabbing his hoodie off the hook as he headed toward the door. Before he left, he glanced back.

“You’re coming over tonight,” he said. “You don’t have to pack anything. You’re staying.”

Then he was gone.

And all you could do was sit there — sweaty, flushed, and spinning — heart hammering while you wondered whether he was right.

Whether you’d already become his

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one-beer-is-not-enough · 2 days ago

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Hi!!! You are my favorite bully artist for so long and I saw you create an oc, he’s so amazing, I can’t— 😩❤️❤️ I’m too shy, but I was wonder how he can interact with my prep ocs Mary, Oliver, Margaret and Claudette (or you can choose one of them). Also I wonder if you draw requests, my big pleasure would be to see one of my silly ocs in your great style 🙏 I luv u 💗

Hello! Thank you, you're very sweet <33 I got a funny idea for Mary and Marcel, hope you like it!

I wrote the interactions for all four under the cut :)

Mary:

Marcel will be a little wary of her. It’s suspicious that she’s so nice… and also a prep. It doesn’t make sense to him. He thinks she has ulterior motives and it takes a lot to convince him otherwise. He’s polite enough, but keeps his distance, which I imagine would irk Mary, seeing as she wants to be liked by everyone she meets.

In spite of this attitude they have quite a few things in common, like art and films, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to break the ice over time. Maybe at one of the parties Mary throws, or in art class if they happen to sit close to each other. Marcel puts on this delusional act about his art so that he can act unbothered when others insult it, but with Mary he might be honest for once and even ask for advice when it’s just them. He’s floored by her skill and often nags her to show him her sketchbooks.

Pinky always drags Marcel along on her shopping trips to carry her things for her like a pack mule, so he is 100% there when she goes out in town with Mary. Whether they care about the stuff he overhears, I have no idea lol

They’re both in the “I wanna be friends with the greasers but I can’t” club, so I could see them complaining about it, maybe even teaming up to approach one of the greasers (and probably fail to even have a conversation)

Marcel roots for her to get together with Gord, mainly so he doesn’t have to see either of them in a relationship with a cousin anytime soon. He does grow to think they look pretty sweet together and is frankly a little jealous

Overall, Marcel treats her respectfully and admires her skill in art, but wouldn’t interact that much with her outside of group gatherings, their personalities are just very different.

Oliver

Marcel is once again skeptical of him, just like with Mary. It’s probably mutual, since Marcel doesn’t act like the typical prep either. Since they’re both quite mistrusting with strangers, it’s unlikely they’d ever spend enough time together to form a friendship. At the very least, Marcel treats him with respect stemming from loyalty to the clique.

If he sees Oliver around the nerds too much, though, he’ll grow disdainful and take him aside at some point to question his motives. Marcel fully expects the nerds to use any shred of information anybody gives them, so he fears Oliver might be a rat or something (he watches too many mafia movies)

They both suck at drawing and probably won’t even know they have this in common until they have to present an art project or something in class lmao. It’d be funny if they’re both like, “Wow this guy sucks!” Meanwhile Mary is displaying a masterpiece next to their glorified stickmen

Margaret

I think they’d be either neutral or sworn enemies. They’re both blunt and straight to the point, so they definitely escalade to arguments regardless of whether they get along or not

Marcel will forever ridicule her for being in a relationship with Bif, since the two boys are kind of frenemies? When Margaret talks about Bif, he literally goes “Blah blah blah-” and parrots her sentences back in a high-pitched voice (like a 12 year old). And then gets pissed when she mocks him back in regards to Derby. Complete hypocrite 💀

I think they would interact even more often that they’d like, since Margaret is on the cheerleading team along with his sister Sofia. Meaning he sometimes gets dragged along to some jock hangouts and even parties where Margaret might also be

Since Margaret is a huge gossip girl, she would probably start some rumors about Marcel, especially if he pisses her off. I mean, there’s so many things you can overhear in the Harrington House lol

Honestly I’m not sure, Margaret really hates the greasers and their behavior, and Marcel isn’t very far off from them in terms of everything but wealth and clothing. So she either tolerates him, or absolutely despises his ass lmao

Claudette

Claudette… would probably have a bad opinion of Marcel. He doesn’t do himself any favors by getting into fights and often being rude to those around him. At the same time, Claudette’s knowledge in psychology would allow her to figure out some of his underlying issues and the possible reasons for his behavior that may not be so obvious to the average person

If Marcel somehow finds out she can’t stand Derby, his view of her is plummeting instantly. He’s a stupid simp and can't comprehend how a prep would hate their clique leader… But as long as she doesn’t outright insult Derby, Marcel will learn to live with it. At worst they just give each other the silent treatment

The one thing they have in common seems to be their music taste. I could see them overhearing a song on the radio they both like and immediately forgetting about their issues just to yap about their favorite musicians for a good minute lol

Marcel cares a lot about his grades (out of fear), and while he’s normally too prideful to ask for help, in desperate times he might swallow that pride and ask Claudette for help studying, as she’s known for her good performance within their clique.

#bully preps #bully canis canem edit #oc: marcel d'argento #bully oc #mary brown #oliver bonville #gord vendome #claudette fouche #margaret vendome #Cabbegio's art

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diminuel · 18 hours ago

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👋 out of curiousity what does your Ace (from stinky child au and such) think about the whole Rocks Twins AU and that Crocodile is related to Shanks xd?

My musings are complicated by the fact that I don't know what the Rocks Twins AU would have as a context. Warning: rambling ahead as I think out loud. If we go with the idea that it's like the Stinky Child AU (i.e. reasonably close to canon) then Rocks would have still "died" and Crocodile most likely had no idea about his siblings.

And Ace would be long gone from Dawn by the time Rocks crash lands into the present, so he wouldn't know Rocks until after Marineford (if Ace is in contact with Crocodile or Dragon he might have heard about him though but maybe Ace is trying to avoid calling Crocodile because he assumes Crocodile will be pissed that Ace joined the guy who defeated him. There might be some convenient memory loss on Crocodile's side regarding God Valley but I think he remembers by the time the adventure starts. But it's not like he can approach WB again, Crocodile's pride and potentially even anger about what happened back then would get in the way, but this is a tangent.)

And the question is also when does Rocks drop the bomb about having had some other kid or kids? It's possible that Crocodile vaguely recalls but probably assumes they did not survive God Valley. And Rocks wouldn't know what happened to the kids either. If he starts reading up on what happened in the last couple years he'll find out that his husband didn't raise either of them, but he knows that one of the three must be alive or at least have been alive long enough to have children of their own otherwise the magic wouldn't have had anything to grip on to. So what happened?

Rocks might have an idea that Shanks might be one of his because of the red hair, the right age range, and the unfortunate resemblance to Garling, but nothing of what Rocks gets out of Garp or Luffy about Shanks makes any sense to him. Surely, his child would not have grown up with Roger? Or think pirating is about partying with friends? But then again, of course his child would be an Emperor of the Sea. He doesn't ask Crocodile about it because the guy's already upset enough as it is. This has not been the warm and loving welcome back that Rocks had maybe secretly hoped for. But it's been days for Rocks and 36 years for anybody else. He's just an unpleasant footnote in history books, good riddance as Garp says. Nobody cared to foster his legacy, not even Whitebeard. Of course Crocodile would be pissed. Pissed that Rocks died. Pissed that he's back. Pissed at whatever is going on in his life that he's not talking about. So asking Crocodile anything about his other child(ren) is out of the question.

Consequently, Rocks would be looking for the twins on his way to do whatever it is he does once he escapes Dawn but it's slow going because he's probably pretty de-powered. That's what happens if you die and no amount of meat and milk is gonna fix him. Only time will. Time apparently nobody has because Rocks doesn't get very far until he has to head to Impel Down because not only is Crocodile there, but so is Ace (who Rocks hasn't met yet but knows from Luffy's tales. And it's doing something to Rocks that Whitebeard took at least one of them. How did he take Roger's kid but left Rocks' baby with Roger though? He's got no idea, but he'll put it on a list of things to get violent over for later.). And Luffy. Good to know that some of Rocks' impulsiveness got passed on to the next generations.

And then after Marineford he confirms that Shanks is indeed his baby though being close to him and feeling him would probably have been enough.

Which brings us to your question. When Rocks goes to Momoiro to visit a recovering Ace and getting to meet him properly and maybe bringing a recovering Whitebeard along, Rocks does tell him about Shanks. Maybe it's an off-hand comment about Rocks and Shanks spending some time together and Ace has a "ah, you too went to visit him to express your thanks for what he did for Luffy?" and Rocks is "uh. yeah, sure. That. And we got drunk together. I don't know where he gets his drinking constitution from because it's not me."

Ace would probably be quite shocked at first but then delighted for Luffy because Luffy loves that guy. Everyone in their family (sometimes begrudgingly) loves that guy to be honest. It would take him a moment to realize what that means about Crocodile and Shanks' ties though. And I don't know if Ace would have a little bit of bitterness about anything that happened on his Baba's behalf. Because in the end there's no point to have regret and wonder about what ifs. There's only forward and he can't really see Crocodile changing how he acts around Shanks too much just because they happen to share a mother. Crocodile is prickly and stubborn and upset but Ace knows that Crocodile will try to mend bridges with his parents because against all odds they all made it out alive. It would be a waste not to. So Ace doesn't really expect much to change.

(But Shanks is taking the opportunity to be an insufferable little brother so even though Crocodile wasn't going to adapt how he acts around Shanks, Shanks probably does. Maybe it's born out of insanity because Shanks also has no idea what to do about Rocks being back and it's nice to have someone to bond over with. And it might be easier to do with Crocodile than Shamrock. I'm not sure what Shamrock is up to in this AU, though it's likely that Rocks climbs the Red Line to go say hello because that's the unreasonable kind of thing Rocks would do before Shanks has a chance to tell him that he has Shamrocks' snail phone number.)

That got very long and rambling before I even answered your question in like three sentences. Sorry X'DD

#melkyt #Diminuel replies #I don't know how to tag this #Rocks Twins AU

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smartestmammalintheuniverse · 1 day ago

Text

Rick and Morty, Season 8, Episode 2

These are just thoughts and opinions on the episode before the next one airs tonight. Sorry that it is a little late. Spoilers under the cut 😊

The Gromflomites are a monarchy? Not surprising considering they’re insects, but it took me off guard.

Beth going by Sanchez. She has properly distinguished herself from the other Beth. She’s also separated herself from the mother/wife role by taking her maiden name back. In the beginning, I believe that she kept going by Smith, because she thought a clone was at home. Later, she wanted to be recognized as herself and not as ‘Rick Sanchez’s daughter’. She seems to have forgiven him some. She took his name instead of her mother’s maiden name. Also she still calls him, “dad.”

The Deviance becoming its own government similar to the Citadel(“You wanted to be safe from the government so you became a stupid government.”).

I love that Rick has Space Beth saved in his phone as, “Beth(Space One).”

Rick still has a hard time admitting that both Beths are his daughters. He calls them his “daughter,” but always has to add a “probably” after it or at least when its just them. To the Gromflomites, he calls her, “his daughter,” without adding anything else. Maybe, he’s slowly changing since he says, “So they don’t know your dad drove you. Sure.” He’s starting to get it. It still bothers him that he made it where he doesn’t know which one is the clone. There’s something to that to expand upon. It seems he might actually putting that to rest in this episode since he starts saying that she’s 50% his daughter whether she’s a clone or not.

Rick defending Beth from nepotism is just classic 👌.

It seems his reputation has been revamped since the Tammy incident. The newer generation of bugs all remember and fear him. From later in the episode, we have found out that not all of them remember them, but that makes sense. These were spending all their time in a hidden lab.

I bet Rick thought she sounded like a teenager again when she asked to be dropped off a block away. Then, immediately doing the embarrassing dad thing by dropping her off at the ‘front door’ so to speak. This definitely feels like Beth is “reliving” her teenage years if Summer hadn’t happened. Rick’s taking advantage of it because he would have loved to have experienced it.

“The legend doesn’t fall far from the tree.” That sounds a lot like “Oh, I’m a fucking nutcase and the acorn plopped straight down, baby.”

Rick feeling bad about getting her fired so he makes sure he helps with her next job. His little smile. He’s so proud. He’s going out of his way to spend time with her. He’s being so supportive.

The doctor says that these would be a stronger/better race, but they can’t talk. They’re violent killing machines. I’m assuming it’s because he was supposed to be the leader of their hive mind. So narcissistic.

Beth realizing that she really is a lot like him is perfect. She said that she wouldn’t stop caring a long time ago, but it seems like this episode is a lot like , “The ABCs of Beth” except Rick isn’t argumentative. She goes back into Froopyland and starts killing creatures when the man wouldn’t agree(literally says, “o my gosh, I’m my father.” then excitedly, “I’m my father.”). Space Beth says that she’s going back to stop the bomb, but not because she cares that people are going to get hurt, but because she wants to spite the doctor for trying to kill her.

Love that we have never heard of Cisco, but he trusts him as much as Birdperson.

Rick wanted an unlikely ally so bad.

The whole sequence in the tube was uhm something. “Daddy’s coming” was a sweet line.

Rick is definitely trying to relive a fantasy of not getting to be there for Beth as child by immediately getting his best friend and his daughter for a ‘bring your daughter to work day.’ Birdperson also liking it because Birddaughter gets to have fun.

Birddaughter scaring the Gromflomites shows that she is a perfect combo of her parents.

Birdperson and Rick getting to dad together. He’s trying so hard. Also Birdperson’s daughter was shown to be in her teenager(rebel against parents) stage so he’s wanting his daughter to think he’s cool. It’s so adorable to get to see them ‘dad’ together.

Rick really is trying to be a dad, wow. He wants them to check on that one guy’s kid in college.

Beth admitting that she is having fun and its nice for him to be there. His little stutter when he says that its nice that she called.

The Gromflomite doctor wanted a hive mind to led...got it...also he says foreshadowing before that.....Unity?

Birdperson and Birddaughter flying everyone to freedom.

Birdperson ‘laughing’ and bumping Rick’s shoulder definitely feels like him saying that he forgives him for not telling him about BD immediately in the memories. Rick being slightly weirded out by it is amusing since BP doesn’t normally show emotions so clearly but says them.

I knew as soon as that woman in the Deviance said Rick but didn’t berate him that she’d flirt with him later. Rick’s slight giggle when he tells Beth, “Hey, you called me.”

Rick trusting Cisco so much, but Cisco only knowing him as “that space guy.”

—————-

This episode was really great with the characterization. The story and plot itself was okay. I do think that part of that is because Beth is supposed to be going through her “boring hero” phase. Their development as people was really nice.

#rick and morty #rick and morty spoilers #rick and morty season 8 #rick sanchez #space beth #beth sanchez #beth smith #birdperson #birddaughter #rick and birdperson #rick c 137 #bxh

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 day ago

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Oh i get to offer Swatch to my favourite writer??? Excellent!!!

Please consider i'm so gay for that charming bird and i want to kiss him so hard his glasses tilt sideways.

If you ever write anything about him i will give you my life

Swatch x Human male reader

Headcanons

I love Swatch, I love so many of the characters from Deltarune and Undertale. Like, Rudy? Asgore? Spamton? Sweet Capn Cakes? Come on man, they should be happy theres a screen holding me back.

I was the fucking worst when it came to being in love with Sans and Papyrus back in the day. All the AUs? Yeah, I knew them like the back of my hand. I even made my own AU, back in the day.

No spoilers for chapter 3 or 4.

You were the only other human living in Hometown. You had been adopted by Cat family when you were a baby. Apparently, your human mother, and your cat mother, had been friends in college.

Being the only other human had resulted in Kris clinging to you when they were younger, especially when they were hit with the “I'm not a monster like my family” phase, one you had gone through too.

You used to babysit Kris and Asriel when they were younger too, even if Asriel always claimed he was too old to be babysat. Instead, you guys just called it “hanging out”.

After high school, you moved out of Hometown and to the bigger city, starting a degree in coding and computer science. You still came home at least one weekend a month though.

You met Swatch on one of the lucky weeks where all your classes had been cancelled, for days even, so you took the chance and drove home. Of course, you spent the first while with your parents, then your sisters, even visiting Catti at the diner where she worked.

But you felt a need to find your little buddy, even if Kris wasn't that little anymore. Call it your human alliance, but Kris had always felt like a little sibling to you.

Jockington told you that she had seen Kris head towards the library after school, so you went there, assuming they were farting about in the computer lab playing games like always.

How you end up in the Dark World is lost to you, it just... kinda happened. You couldn't really figure out what Class you were supposed to be, or if this world even had those kinds of things.

It just reminded you a lot of the few sessions of Dungeons & Dungeons (because Dungeons & Dragons wouldn't be fantasy in a world with dragons) you had played with your art club back at college.

But hey, you had magic. Something you didn't have back on the surface, or whatever you should call it, being human and all.

You end up just kinda wandering around, talking to some different monsters, and you figure out that Kris is supposed to be down here and is wanted? By the Queen?

Anyways, one way or another you end up at the Queens mansion, and feeling tired from all the walking you saddle up in the Color Cafe. It helps that the shopkeeper is so handsome too.

Dess always giggled about your love for butler characters in media, so what if you loved Otome games and anime, she and Asriel were big nerds too.

You end up spending the rest of the day, just sitting in the cafe and talking to Swatch. Hes all professional and sharp edges in the beginning, but you start to wear him down and you get to see the real him.

You even pump a fist on the inside when you get him to blush. It hadn't even been on purpose, you just touched his hand, wanting to show him your cool new magic.

It wasn't like you were good at it, you hadn't even figured out what your magic really did yet, but Swatch got all red in the face, and his feathers started puffing up.

It was so cute you wanted to bite your plate hard enough to break it. It ends with Swatch clearing his throat, adjusting his glasses like an anime character (you had to contain your “Kyaah” at that one), and offering to teach you.

And so, you guys spend a good hour, maybe two, working on your magic. There were no costumers during this time, so you get a feeling Swatch might have flipped the door sign to CLOSED.

Especially because, he starts pulling the good ol “let me adjust your arm for you” move, getting up behind you and supporting your arms with his own.

All was good and dandy until this purple monster girl you have only seen in passing barge in, complaining about the shop being closed.

Imagine you, Swatch, and the group of heroes- and hey, there's Kris, all freezing. Kris is stoic as always, but you swear you see their eyes widen and mouth open in shock, and the other two just look equally shocked at the sight of you.

Both you and Swatch cough and sputter, the shopkeeper fluttering back to his spot and brushing down his puffy feathers. Seeing him immediately snap into his butler-sona almost makes you crack up.

It takes a bit, but you get yourself introduced, completely ignoring the situation they had walked in on, and you figure out their mission too.

Kris seems to struggle against... something... for a bit, before they leave. Its a bit scary, honestly, but they free themselves from whatever is holding them back, and hurry over to give you a tense hug. You'll have to ask them what that's about later.

But, you stay in the cafe as Kris, Susie and Ralsei, rush off to be the heroes the prophecy wants them to be. And you? You have a hot butler to keep flirting with.

In the end, you do appear in the battle against the Queen, cuz nobody gets to kick your human pal's ass, other than you in Super Smashing Fighters.

When Queen is defeated, and the Dark Fountain is shut down, you are heartbroken at the thought that your new boo would cease to exist.

Imagine your joy when Kris and Susie bring you with them to Castle Town, where your pretty bird is now manning the bar? Restaurant? Cafe?

Learning that Darkners can't leave the Dark World does mess you up, especially after you and Swatch get closer. You swear to find a way to make it possible, because you promised him a date in the big city.

You do feel your face flush a little when the Swatchlings appear, all so big, sharp and ready to serve.

Swatch lets out a barely hidden huff, his neck feathers puffing up differently to when he's flustered. You would never pick the Swatchlings over him, obviously, but they are really cute...

Being one of the Lightners also means Ralsei makes you a room of your own too, the cute Darkner princess having been so observant during your conversations that he fits it right to your tastes

And... it means you can bring Swatch there so you guys can be alone. Up until that point you guys would have mostly spoken in the cafe and the bar he runs in Castle Town.

Here, you two can be completely yourselves and learn all the small things about each other.

And here you guys can kiss, because by god you have been starving to do so since you guys meet. Swatch is so cute when he kisses, as his glasses get all skewed up, and he starts tittering.

Hes so polite and careful, and admits he doesn't have much, if any, experience, because hes always been serving and doing other things.

And you, you are ready to help him figure out everything he doesn't know. At least for the while you are still in Hometown, after that, you have to find a way to bring him with you...

#male reader #deltarune #Swatch #Deltarune Swatch #deltarune chapter 3 #deltarune chapter 4 #deltarune chapter 2 #Swatch x male reader #Swatch x reader #Deltarune x male reader #deltarune x reader #deltarune imagine #deltarune headcanon #swatch imagine #swatch headcanon #deltarune swatch x male reader #deltarune swatch x reader

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theladysherlock · 2 days ago

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Goliath Liveblog Wrap-Up

Holy shit you guys we did it

I'm gonna get a little sentimental under the cut, but TL;DR: Thank you all so much for having fun with me during the liveblog, I had a fantastic time.

I'm a little surprised it only took me six-ish months, considering how much I have to say about everything. If you'd asked me, I would have assumed it would take eight-ish months, due to my well-established pattern of yapping about everything.

My dad tells a story about how when he was a kid and he finished reading The Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien, he was so excited and amped up by the end that he had to start jumping on his bed to get some of the energy out. My version of this story is that when I finished reading Goliath at the age of 13, I was so full of adrenaline that I had to walk laps around my empty house and yell for a bit. Goliath was the very first book to do that to me, and I have been chasing that high ever since. (It's MY turn to have my brain chemistry altered by a book inspired by the horrors of WWI)

Goliath is maybe my favorite book ever (definitely the book that has the biggest impact on me) and I loved getting to pick it apart and see the stuff that makes it work. I love the character work, I love the themes, I love the New York City era so much that it makes me look stupid.

I cannot fully express how much fun I had doing this. Getting to revisit these books with a fine tooth comb and dig into all my favorite stuff, looking at themes and symbolism and characterization, was such a blast. And I loved making stupid jokes along the way too. I love a stupid joke.

Another thing that's genuinely meant a lot to me is everyone's interactions with the posts. I got at least one friend to read the series by talking about it so much, and a bunch more people reread the books because I was talking about them so much. (Y'all were MUCH faster than me, though, I was on a slow drip listening while I got ready for work most mornings.) Every time I got a reply in the comments or someone reblogged something and put their own ideas in the tags, it made me so happy. It's like we have a little book club here and I'm just leading discussion. I tried to get to most of the comments and have a conversation but I'm sure I missed a few.

Not to sound like I'm fishing for notes, because I'm not, but I wanna hear what everyone's favorite topic of discussion was. If you are so inclined, go ahead and drop that in the replies of this post so we can talk about it some more! Or make your own discussion post-- despite the fact that I've fucking flooded the tags at this point, I don't have a monopoly on Leviathan analysis.

And for everyone who follows me who doesn't read these books (especially those of you I know IRL who I will see face-to-face): Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Thank you for coming along on this incredibly close look into my psyche. I genuinely think a lot of things about the way that I am as a person will fall into place if you know these books and what they mean to me.

This is a little personal, but the response to the liveblog has genuinely helped me with the fact that I am worried all the time that I'm annoying the people I'm spending time with and they all secretly want me to go away and shut the fuck up forever. With very few exceptions (people who have known me for decades, friends who have assured me over and over and over and over again), this happens with every single person I talk to, despite any and all evidence to the contrary. This feeling is significantly more prevalent whenever I talk about stuff I like, but can and will show up at any time. I often have to remind myself that my friends do actually want to spend time with me and they want to listen to what I have to say.

So the fact that I talked a lot about the thing that I like the most, and the response was overwhelmingly positive? Even from people who haven't read the books? That really helped me combat the feeling that nobody actually wants me around, knowing that people want to hear more of what I have to say. I cannot thank you enough for this gift.

I'm probably going to do another liveblog series on a different book series in the future, because I had so much fun with this one, but I'm not going to start that for a while. The anime comes out in a month, after all, and I'm sure I'm going to have a LOT to say about it, so we'll wait until that hype has died down before I jump into something new.

Again, thank you all for coming along for the ride while I went off on a posting adventure. This has been an absolute blast and I have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

#lily liveblogs leviathan 2024 #I'm not putting the wrapup in the main fandom tags #but. seriously thank you all so much

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snugglebug-mj · 2 days ago

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Moonlit Bonds: paul lahote Love Story

PAUL LAHOTE X FEMALE HUMAN READER

small headcanon (y/n birthday)

Today is y/n's 18 birthday. She had plans to hang out with Charlie in the morning then go hang out with the wolf pack that evening, y/n was really excited to spend time with the people she cared about the most.

(Your outfit)

"Y/n/n (your nickname) Bells, are y'all almost ready to go? " Charlie's voice filled the air making y/n smile as she quickly ran down the stairs, "Im ready " y/n said with a smile Charlie chuckled before patting y/n's head

After a few minutes Bella walked down the stairs all dressed up, "Hey sorry but Edward and his family want to hang out today" Bella said happily.

Charlie looked at y/n then Bella "But today is your sister's birthday. Can't you wait a day or at least tonight to go hang out with your boyfriend?" Charlie asked bella, slightly disappointed.

"Oh I completely forgot and already made plans I can't change and she's not really my sister. I'm sorry y/n" Bella said with a slightly smug smile before quickly walking out the door, getting in her truck and driving off.

Y/n didn't really care because she knew that Bella would ditch them for Edward as always. Charlie gently grabbed y/ns shoulders, "I'm sorry kiddo" Charlie started y/n shook her head as she turned to her father "it's ok dad, I don't take it to heart every time she says that but hey at least I get to hang out with you" y/n said Charlie smiled "I wouldn't miss it for nothing now let's go get some milkshakes! And no I ain't letting you drive" Charlie said gently kissing y/n's forehead before ruffling y/n's hair making her groan "DAD!!!" y/n groaned, making Charlie laugh and walk out the door making y/n chase after him.

Charlie and y/n hung out all morning getting milkshakes, going to a shooting range and going to the police station when Charlie got a call about some paperwork. Charlie apologized but y/n just laughed, when y/n was younger and Charlie couldn't get a babysitter Charlie would have y/n sit in his office with him while he worked on paperwork, even now y/n sometimes just comes with Charlie to hangout with him while he worked.

"Hey dad, Paul and our friends are throwing me a party at Billys, will you come party with us?" y/n asked looking at her father working at his desk.

(Y/n had begged Sam for two weeks to let her father be there, Sam agreed without hesitation he just wanted to mess with y/n.)

Charlie looked up "you still want to hangout with your old man tonight?" Charlie asked, "Of course it's more fun watching you and Billy go at each other, plus I want to be with everyone I care about today." y/n said with a smile Charlie smiled as well "alright.. we're getting more s'mores ingredients though. Those friends of yours have black holes for a stomach" Charlie said as he signed a paper y/n silently cheered, making Charlie smile slightly.

~that afternoon~

(Tessa is my OC dating Leah she is a flirt to the ladies but she only wants Leah. (she is 6'8)

Charlie's cop car pulled to a stop, with a clear view of billys. Tessa, Leah, Seth and Jacob sat on the porch talking as party decorations hung everywhere, as y/n and Charlie got out of the car Seth noticed them first "Y/N!!" Seth yelled running towards y/n making everyone look over at y/n and Charlie. Tessa, Leah and Jacob smiled as y/ns laughs filled the air as Seth hugged her.

"Oi Charlie!!! I see the birthday girl finally dragged you out and about!" Billy said, lifting his red solo cup, Charlie smiled "Yep! She dragged me out here so you would have company" Charlie teased sitting in the chair beside Billy's wheelchair "oh how thoughtful!" Billy said with a teasing smile at y/n who simply rolled her eyes as she walked closer to Billy

"Hi Billy"y/n said leaning down to hug her Godfather. Billy hugged y/n back gently patting y/ns back as y/n stood back up Billy spoke again "Hey birthday girl. Everyone else should be here soon" Billy said y/n chuckled "uh oh it sounds like Emily is bringing food" y/n said with a smile, everyone laughed. Jacob walked over and hugged y/n "happy birthday tiny" Jacob said earning a smack on the back from y/n. When y/n and Jacob let go of each other y/n turned to Leah before jumping into her arms making Leah yelp in surprise before Laughing.

"Bestie!" Y/n said as she hung off Leah like a koala "hey right back at you Bestie" Leah said with a chuckle as she hugged y/n back. Once y/n let go of Leah she turned to Tessa and hugged her as well "Happy birthday princess" Tessa said gently patting y/n's head. When y/n and Tessa let go of each other Seth hugged y/n again as Tessa stood by Leah "So Tessa since I'm your princess, what is Leah?" Y/n asked with a teasing smile looking at Leah who rolled her eyes "you are my princess, Seth is my prince, Jacob in tiny, but this cutie is my queen" Tessa said as she gently grabbed Leah's chin and made her look up at her, making Leah blush hard and look away grumbling "I'm not cute" making everyone laugh.

After 30 minutes of talking a grey truck and white jeep rolled up Sam, Emily, Embry, Quil, Jared, Kim Claire and Paul got out with extra food and gifts

"I told you I made plenty" Billy yelled Emily smiled "I know but I wanted everyone to have leftovers to take home" Emily replied as they placed all the food down on the table, "My birthday girl!" Paul said as he quickly picked up y/n and spun her around rubbing his cheek against hers making her yelp then laugh in response. "Ok Paul share her" Emily said making Paul put y/n down.

Y/n got tight hugs from Emily, Kim and Claire, a side hug and head pat from Sam, three bear hugs from Embry, Jared and Quil.

"Alrighty then everyone is here let's get this party started!" Jacob said everyone agreed.

The next few hours were filled with partying, eating, opening gifts and simply just having fun.

When the sky got dark the pack planned on going to get some ice cream because as everyone knew the pack had black holes for stomachs. Charlie voted to stay at Billy's. So pack went to go get ice cream at Delightful Frostbites.

Delightful Frostbites was run by an elderly couple who knew the pack as regular customers and treated them as their grandkids. They knew when to calm the pack down if they got to rowdy. The pack sat in their normal section in the corner of the restaurant, talking and eating ice cream. The restaurant was empty besides the elderly couple and the pack.

Everything was peaceful until the door was swung open revealing Bella and the Cullen's "Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Bella yelled making her way over to the pack the Cullen's followed but didn't get to close. "I'm spending time with my boyfriend and my friends" y/n responded taking a bite of her ice cream. "I told you to stay away from them, come on we're leaving" Bella said reaching to grab y/n.

Paul quickly pulled y/n into his lap. "She's not going anywhere with you, my mate is staying with me" Paul growled the pack nodded.

"Mate?!" Bella and the Cullen's repeated. Y/n nodded "yes I am pauls imprint. While you're around getting down with vampires I'm with getting down with werewolves" y/n responded glaring at Bella.

"No sister of mine will be a wolf lover!" Bella hissed

"HA! Good think I'm not your sister then! You say it every chance you get! You said it this morning before leaving the house!" Y/n laughed

"They could kill you! That mutt of yours has anger issues!" Bella started making Paul growl

"You're literally dating a leach, you want to give up your humanity for someone who wanted to kill you when he met you" Jared scoffed

"Don't start mutt" Edward warned the pack growl and stood up in response. "Stop" y/n said gently as everyone slowly sat back down

"Are you the alpha now and what you're just giving up your family for a mutt?!" Bella yelled. Y/n stood up from Paul's arms

"Family?! What do you know about family Isabella?! Family doesn't ditch family just because their boyfriend wants to hangout. You make plans with Charlie but as soon as a Cullen calls you drop Charlie like a hat. The Cullen's are your family you've shown that MANY TIMES. Family isn't always blood, family loves and care for each other no matter what! You always tell me I'm not your sister! So guess what I don't care about you, Charlie and the pack are my family! I want nothing to do with you or those leaches!" Y/n didn't yell but she made her point clear as she stood in front of Bella.

"Also no I am not the alpha, that is taken by that intimidating man in the corner named Sam, I've earned their respect something you will never have or earn." Y/n said pointing to Sam who was now beside her.

"Y'all need to leave" Sam said with a low tone looking at Carlisle who nodded, before leaving with Bella and the rest of the Cullen's.

Everyone sat back down it was quiet for a moment before Sam spoke "am I that intimidating?" Sam asked y/n nodded "sometimes yes, mainly when you use your alpha voice" y/n said quietly as her face started to heat up as she picked at her ice cream.

Everyone chuckled before going back to their ice cream.

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mullermilkshake · 3 days ago

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Two and the same.

An anniversary dinner shouldn't be this complicated.

Doppelgänger!Hiromi Higuruma x Fem!reader Tags - That's not my neighbour fusion, I played the base game but I'm not up to date with what's out now. I had the idea and ran with it lol. Canon typical stuff? Guns

<<< For more Hiromi content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

“Right, I’m heading out now, can you put me on today's list?”

“Do you have your identification card on you?”

You rummaged through your purse to check that it sat nestled inside the little pocket. It was.

“I do, will that be all I need to get in?” Unfortunately, doormen never seemed to last long here. They all did things differently.

This guy was new. The handsome type who thought he knew everything. But what you found with these types of guys, was that they usually didn’t know how the world worked.

“Yeah. It’s fine. I’ve already memorised your number by now, and I’ve cleared the visitor waiting in the foyer for you.”

He has a name… at least the last guy remembered his name. You won’t last long, buddy.

Still, you threw him a smile and picked your battles. “Thanks, you’re a doll. See you later.”

You were feeling more confident than anything today, the eve of the second anniversary of your relationship and you were certain that Hiromi was going to propose the idea of living together.

He’d been hinting at it for a while now and in truth, it was just easier living together than having to go through two checks every time you and he wanted to see each other in person. Doppels were everywhere, lurking in the shadows and in plain sight, hiding in people's skin awaiting their moment to enter an apartment complex and other personal spaces for their own selfish and twisted needs.

It was more tiring than climbing a mountain unprepared.

Your heels clacked on the hard linoleum floor, sticky from residue from the previous clean ups by the D.D.D. It squelched and never cleared right, so maintenance stopped bothering to clean it. The grunginess paired perfectly with the chipped and cracked walls and slight mould edging on the corners where the rain had seeped in.

The place was a dive if you were honest, which most of the time you were. It was all you could afford in the crashing economy. Though Hiromi’s place wasn’t much better, and his salary practically doubled yours, being a legal representative of the D.D.D.

Doppelgangers were to blame for it completely. They were slowly ripping apart the city piece by piece, snatching people and replacing them permanently. Even some of your friends you couldn’t trust anymore. Not even family.

As you turned the corner, Hiromi stood by the entrance reading one of the posters that weren’t hanging off the wall or had fallen off completely.

“Hi, baby.” You said, approaching him with a straight posture and kissing his cheek.

It had to be tonight. It had to be the night he asked you to move in with him so you could get out of this dump and spend the rest of your life with him.

He kissed you back. “You look beautiful. Are you ready to go? There’s a bar down the way I’d like to take you to before we go to dinner.”

“I’m ready, I have everything I need. A bar sounds really good right now.”

Work was taxing to say the least, since Doppels had surfaced, your job focused more on insurance for related attacks instead of travel or home protection. Your workload had doubled in the last year and did not show any sign of letting go any time soon.

You took Hiromi’s hand and laced your fingers with his, stepping out onto the street. You had never grown used to the overhead speakers constantly going outside, nor the sirens to alarm for cover if a Doppelganger attacked in public. The automated and mechanical informant voiceover was something you developed a hatred for, though still managed to block it out most of the time.

“All residents must have their identification cards on them at all times and be ready to present it to a member of the Department of Doppelgänger Detection if asked. Failure to do so may result in an arrest and full investigation which will be made visible on your record… All residents must have their-“

“I’m gasping, work has been running me ragged lately.”

You were sure a nice drink would settle you, the hope of being asked to move in was a little unnerving especially if he didn’t ask in the end. You would be left disappointed, but could never invite yourself, however you were contemplating asking him anyway.

He definitely wouldn’t propose marriage at all, would he? No. Not when the two of you weren’t even living together yet.

Hiromi smiled and squeezed your hand, walking in pace with you right up to the bar. A cute little place just opened, lined with copper tubing and art deco designs on the ceiling with tall ceiling to floor stained glass windows.

“This is nice, can’t believe they opened so quickly.”

The table in the corner was free, it took a winding path to get to it around small tables and pairs of two conversing over glasses of wine and signature cocktails. It was tucked away, like a booth out of sight and isolated enough to speak freely without disruption.

Hiromi let you sit first and slipped off his suit jacket, folding it neatly and placing it down on the booth seat beside him. “They took on extra hands to get the date pushed forward to open it. They found a few Doppels among the staff so they took a hit but they were able to get their insurance to cover the expenses. So they were able to open early.”

“Well it’s perfect, we should come here often, maybe link up after work so we don't have to keep going through the doormen every time we want to see each other.”

“That sounds great.” He smiled and looked through the drinks menu.

“So how was work?” You asked, fiddling with the other little menu sandwiched between the little copper holder in the grainy wooden table.

“Work is work, we had a Doppel impersonating a member of the team today, it was difficult to say the least.”

“Oh god, that’s terrible. Did you get it sorted in the end?”

He looked away, his eyebrows closer together as he frowned. “I didn’t really want to get into it tonight. But… the D.D.D, they got the wrong person.”

Another lost colleague. Insurances claimed through your company were often due to this sort of incident, especially in high places such as the D.D.D. It was growing ever present and becoming more and more rampant as the months went in and the end of year was in sight.

People were tired, exhausted from the high season of summer and Halloween and couldn’t be as vigilant anymore even though they desperately tried to be.

“Oh… Hiromi. We- oh god, we can leave this tonight, you just lost a team member we can-“

Hiromi took hold of your hand, studying the colour of your nail polish. “No. It’s fine. I think a night out will be a welcoming distraction. I didn’t really know them well anyway, but I just want to see you tonight… if you still want to have dinner with me?”

“Of course I do, baby. I just want to be there for you however I can. If there’s anything I can do- if you want to go home at any time, just say the word.”

The thought of Hiromi asking you to move in flew from your mind right through to ordering drinks from the waitress.

He smiled, though it was sad enough once she had left. “You’re perfect, you know that, right?”

“I try my best when my man is so damn perfect himself.”

You watched him shake his head and get bashful, Hiromi rarely ever did show his shy side. “No… I’m far from perfect. But I try to be, for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So… tell me something.” You tried to take his mind off of the bad news. “When do you plan on coming back over to mine then? Yuji misses you, y’know?”

That cat was friendly to everyone, he often walked the hallways and meowed at others doors for food despite your constant scolding at him. He was sort of like the entire apartment complex’s cat at this rate. But there was no one else he wanted to be around beside Hiromi if he was in the room.

You swore if that cat was a person, all he’d do was talk about Hiromi like he was his own father. Yuji often slept out in the balcony, the high wind rustling his thick and fluffy fur on summer nights and on clear days, you were certain that he'd wait there just to see if Hiromi would come and visit.

“Yuji… he’s something, isn’t he?”

“He is. For a cat, I can’t believe he’s so energetic when he sees you. He’s often so lazy and just lounges with me watching movies. He’s just a cute lil ball of fur these days.”

Hiromi nodded with a smile and sat back when the waitress brought the drinks. “He’s very cute. I’ll come by soon… or maybe tonight?”

“You want to come to mine tonight?” What changed his mind? “I thought you wanted me to come to your place tonight?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “I thought about it, but it might be nice to change things up. To be spontaneous every once in a while.”

“You, spontaneous? I can get behind that.”

Hiromi Higuruma was entirely methodical, a place for everything and everything had its place sort of guy. Spontaneous wasn’t exactly in his wheel house.

You blinked at him, thinking something was different. But the doorman cleared him.

So you shrugged it off and continued talking. “So tell me, Mr spontaneous, what else have you changed your mind about?”

“Well, I think it’s time we took the next step. You and me.”

Oh shit, is he going to ask me? Would Hiromi really ask you to move in with him?

“Okay…” You did your best to act natural, like you hadn’t thought it over the last week agonising about what he might ask.

“I love you. So I don’t see the point in waiting.” He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a small box.

What.

“I want you to marry me.”

What?

“Uh… Marry you- we aren’t even living together.”

He smiled again. “When you know, you know.”

“Hiromi-“

“Get down on the ground!” The windows shattered, you instinctively ducked and let an involuntary scream leave your throat.

Hiromi took your hands and squeezed them. “Are you alright?”

“I-I don’t know! Is that the- what are they doing here?!”

The D.D.D. had infiltrated the bar from all sides, their yellow suits unmistakable amongst the gathering crowd.

“It’s alright, just be calm. I’m sure there’s a reason they’re here.”

You rummaged through your purse for your identification card, clutching into it until your knuckles white. If you lost this, they’d arrest you for sure. Taking your time getting it out from your bag, they’d grow antsy and wave a gun in your face.

The large yellow radiation suits trudged around the bar area, then one turned to face you and walked your way.

Don’t come over here. Please don’t come over here- shit.

“Identification cards please.”

You offered yours up right away, keeping your hands where everyone could see them. The man in the suit looked at your card and then back at you, the pistol at his side practically grinning at you.

“Thank you, you’re clear to-“ He paused and pressed his finger to his ear. “Right… okay…”

He pulled out his gun and pointed it right to Hiromi’s head. You fought the urge to pull the gun away from his head. “Wait! No- he’s been cleared, I’ve been with him the entire time since we left. The doorman cleared him-“

Your name was called through the panicked crowd, it was Hiromi. Only the man sitting in front of you across the table did not say it. You looked over and saw Hiromi, dishevelled from the head down, dirt and soot over his crumpled suit with a splash of red from his mouth.

“Hiromi?” You moved to get up, taking your purse with you but the other Hiromi snatched your wrist tightly. “What are you- ouch. Wait a second-”

The D.D.D. personnel cocked his gun and ordered Hiromi to let you go, you tried to peel his fingers away. “Ouch! Get off of me- what are you doing?!”

“We have confirmed that the man going by Hiromi Higuruma is a Doppelgänger, as directed by the Department of Doppelgänger Detection, has been marked for cleaning. A protocol that will be issued immediately.”

“Let go of me!”

The gun shot went on by your ear making it ring, disorienting you enough to make you stagger back out of Hiromi’s grip. But you didn’t fall, you landed right in who you assumed was the real Hiromi’s arms.

“I’m so sorry, sweet- he attacked me and took my things. I couldn’t contact you. I’m so glad I made it in time.”

“Hiromi- what is going on? He got cleared- the doorman cleared him.”

You watched in horror to see who you thought was your boyfriend shaking and jerk at the table whilst the skin melted from his body. He tumbled and slumped on the floor, convulsing and foaming at the mouth as his arms twitched and grew into long tentacles that flapped and writhed around at the Department staff's feet.

“Come on- come on, baby, get up.” Hiromi pulled at you, lifting you off of the ground to give the D.D.D. space to capture the Doppelgänger and remove it from the bar.

You turned to face him, not being able to bear another second looking at a thing that touched you, kissed you and told you it loved you using Hiromi’s voice. “You’re real- please tell you are.”

“The D.D.D. cleared me personally.” He pulled out a receipt from his pocket, a little disposable card stamped with their exclusive marker for proof of access for the day.

“Can we get out of here?”

He nodded and took your hand so that you couldn’t separate in between the crowd. “Let’s go home.”

You never looked back. You also filed a complaint with the D.D.D. about the doorman that cleared the Doppelgänger for what was inevitably going to gain entry to your entire apartment complex. And poor little Yuji.

The traumatic night made Hiromi think things over. You moved into his apartment just a week later.

He refused to ever let you out of his reach overnight again.

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

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