#i had some other stuff in here but took it out since everything else was bowls basically so they looked incongruous

[mildmayfoxe]

series of meals

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

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

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

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

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

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

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

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

If only you knew. 

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

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

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

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…I just-”

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

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

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

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

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

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” he questions.

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

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

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

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

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

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

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

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

R: She’s five, genius

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

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

“What’s inside? I thought-”

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

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it you believe him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guess that God was on your side today. 

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

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

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

Princess: please rafey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

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

“No, I did, I swear-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes pass by.

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

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

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

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

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

౨ৎ

[hiveswap]

Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024

I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.

Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.

1. The previous round (preparation)

I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:

...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.

2. The Finale

Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.

I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.

I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.

3. The Fuckening

Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:

which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:

This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.

We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.

4. Conclusions

Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:

(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:

This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:

Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.

I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.

[loveronlineee]

The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist   All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: none

Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances 

Y/N notes: none

Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker​ @iamsiriuss​ @hauntingtherosebush​ @lindsey3300​ for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”

Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.

The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.

“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.

Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?

“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.

“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.

The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.

“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”

“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.

“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”

“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.

Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.

“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.

“It’s my club.”

“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.

“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”

The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.

“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.

“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”

“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”

Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.

“Yeah?”

“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.

“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”

He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.

“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.

“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.

“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.

They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.

Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.

“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.

“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.

He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.

At least it was nice while it lasted.

“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“…why are you here?”

“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.

“W-What about them?” He gestured.

“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.

“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”

“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”

“They don’t?”

“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.

“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​

[vivwritesfics]

lando with girlfriend who races for mercedes but got into a crash and was in coma, but she finally wakes up

This picture does stuff to me

(set 2024)

Second part HERE

"Holy shit," Lando said as he watched his girlfriend walk onto the grid. He watched as she walked over, racing overalls low on her hips, black fireproofs adorning her body.

Lando licked his lips as she stood beside him and Oscar, leaning against the barrier with her arms folded over her chest. "Wow, baby," he said, staring at her.

"Like what you see?" She grinned.

Lando said nothing. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Tell Toto I like the black fire proofs."

It was Y/N's first season in Formula One, her first race too. She was the F2 champion two years running before Mercedes finally gave her a chance. She'd been with Lando since her F2 days, after they'd met in Monaco after the Grand Prix.

"Excited?" Oscar asked as he watched them.

Yes, Y/N was excited. But she'd never been on the track with her boyfriend, had never had to fight him before. Neither of them knew what they were going to do. They both hoped they would treat each other like any other driver, but the rest of the grid was doubtful.

"Very," she said to Oscar as she leaned her head on Lando's shoulders. "I'll blow you both a kiss when I come speeding past, lapping you ."

She had done extremely well for her first qualifying in F1, qualifying on the second row. Lando was 6th through a mistake in Q3 and Oscar was pack in 9th after he got his times deleted.

It was amazing, driving behind a three time world champion and a second time world champion. Y/N did her absolute best, holding her position.

And then Checo Perez tried his luck. He went around the outside of Y/N on turn one. But he didn't leave enough space, hitting her wheel pretty bad and sending her spinning into the barriers at such a high speed. But the car didn't just hit the barrier and bounce off. It hit the barrier and kept going, ripping off chunks of the car and sending them flying.

It wasn't too terrifying at first. It was still scary, though, Y/N's first race and her first big crash in F1. To make things worse it wasn't even her fault. She was having such a good race, doing everything she should have, and then Checo Perez fucked it all up for her.

As chunks of the car got ripped away by the barrier, the Mercedes team was still pretty sure she'd make it out. But then a piece of debris bit the wheel and shot up into the ear, coming back down and hitting the top of Y/N's helmet.

Suddenly, things were scary. The car came to a stop, pieces of it all over the track. "Y/N, are you okay?" Asked her engineer.

She didn't respond.

"Y/N? If you can hear me, please say something?"

Again, nothing. The Mercedes team were beginning to get worried.

***

"Red flag, Lando. That's a red flag," said Lando's engineer.

"What happened?" He asked as everybody pulled into the pitlane.

His engineer took a minute to answer. The team didn't know what was best, to tell Lando and have him freaking out, or to let him find out on his own.

"Uh, there's a Mercedes with some damage," the engineer said.

Lando's face went pale inside of his helmet. He knew the car in front of him was Hamilton, meaning the only other Mercedes on the track was...

Lando parked the car in the pitlane, the same as everybody else. He immediately climbed out of the car and started running. His engineer and the McLaren team tried to stop him, but Lando was still running. It was hot inside of his helmet, but nothing was going to stop him.

When Lando got down there, she still hadn't been pulled from the car, the debris was being removed, but Y/N wasn't. "Baby!" He shouted and ran over.

The stewards tried to hold him back, but Lando pushed them away. He began trying to pull her out of his car. As soon as they saw what he was doing they began helping him, pulling Y/N's limp body out of the car.

Limp, but not lifeless. At least, that was what the paramedics said as they lifted her into the ambulance.

Lando didn't want to attend the rest of the race. He couldn't concentrate as he waited for the race to restart. "Let Pato drive," he mumbled as he waited for news from the hospital. Nothing, and that was making him so fucking worried.

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[barcaatthemoon]

balancing act || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you struggle to find balance between school and playing for barcelona, and your teammates try to help you.

you were on the verge of tearing your hair out as you stared at the notebook in front of you. it was one of the last games of the season, and you were at the front of the bus studying for your finals. your parents had been on your ass since your last test had come back with a 76. that was better than most of your class, but your parents didn't care.

they wanted you to have something to fall back on, insistent that football wouldn't be there forever. you didn't want to believe them, you couldn't. they wanted you to go away to university and put all of the football stuff behind you within the next few years. it was one thing to do it while you were young, but they didn't see it as a full fledged career.

you hated hearing them try to convince you to look into other options. your team was fully supportive of what you wanted to do. they saw the way that you worked hard, not just relying on your talent. there was no question that you'd be a staple of barcelona football for years to come, possibly even decades. there were already news outlets calling you the future alexia putellas.

"chica, it is so boring in the back of the bus without you," mapi whined. she dropped into the seat next to you suddenly. you usually hated it whenever mapi interrupted your work, but now, she was a welcome distraction. you weren't going to understand your math any more when all of the numbers blended together. "what the hell is that?"

"calculus," you answered plainly. mapi pulled a face as she pushed it away from you, nearly knocking it onto the floor. she put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards her. mapi wouldn't be playing today, but she was so excited to get to come along after having had to stay behind for the past couple of games. "what are you doing up here? i thought alexia banished you away from me."

"oh, keira and tana thought that you looked like you needed a break. nothing helps clear the mind better than some quality mapi time!" mapi exclaimed. she rattled off about a million games that the two of you could play for her allotted half hour with you, but all you wanted to do was take a little nap. fortunately for you, mapi had great shoulders to rest against.

it barely took any time for you to fall asleep with mapi. you had more studying to do, but mapi shooed alexia away when she came up to remind you. alexia had a tendency to push, and if it wasn't for mapi, you definitely would have broken down much sooner than you actually did. the pressure from everything had been building up for a while, and everybody was waiting for you to blow up.

the only person who didn't seem to notice was alexia. she kept pushing and pushing, despite the warning from everybody else about pressure. alexia thrived under pressure, and you were so much like her that she assumed you did too. she failed to notice the way that your shoulders had begun to sag as you tried to go through the everyday motions of living.

…

"hola nena," sandra greeted as she sat down next to you. it was one of her last practices. you were definitely one of the saddest to see her go. she had been a staple in your life long before you had joined barcelona. the woman had lived on your street for as long as you could remember, having quickly become a family friend.

"hola sandy." your finals hadn't gone the way that you were hoping they would, so you had to do a couple of the optional end of the year assignments to make it up. you had been working on the last one whenever she walked over.

"you know that is important to rest your brain as well as your body," sandra said. she placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently to get you to look at her. you glanced up from your paper, and sandra felt her heart break a little at how exhausted you looked. "what are you working on?"

"it is my physics. and no, you're not allowed to help. after the disaster that was my study session with alexia and patri, none of the team is allowed to help," you told her. sandra laughed a little. she had heard all about that, alexia complaining that the school work these days was far too difficult for anybody to reasonably understand.

"don't worry, i wouldn't even know where to start if i did want to help you," sandra joked. "i just wanted to check on you. you've been working very hard, and i know that it can get tiring."

"i'm fine. it's what i have to do. i keep my grades up, i get to play. that's the deal." sandra frowned at the almost robotic way you repeated the words that your parents, alexia, and the coaches had been drilling into you. "i can't rely on football forever. one day, i'll have to do someting else, right?"

"what would you want to do if you couldn't play football?" sandra asked you. that wasn't a question that anybody had ever asked you. your parents were insistent that you'd have to have a good career after football to take care of your family, and alexia talked to you like football was always going to be all there was. nobody had ever stopped to ask what you wanted to do, so you never thought about it.

"well, i don't really know," you admitted.

"that's perfectly fine, you're young. just don't put too much thought into what everybody else wants for you," sandra reminded you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she got up to leave you alone. you let her words echo around in your head. it was a good thing to remember, even if it would be hard to undo the years of people pleasing you had grown accustomed to.

…

barcelona was full of motherly figures. sometimes, you found it to be a bit overbearing, but most of them knew when to back off. they had all sort of been alternating trying to check on you. usually, you were mature enough to realize that there had to be a reason for them to be so overbearing, but with the added stress of everything, you hadn't.

marta was one of your favorites. the woman had immediately taken you under her wing whenever you came up from the academy. she was one of the players that you looked up to the most. she had played at barcelona since you could remember, truly a club legend. it was surreal sometimes knowing that she was cheering you on.

whenever you had sprinted off after blowing up at marta's girlfriend, caroline, you had been terrified. marta had every reason to be mad at you. hell, you were pretty mad at yourself for getting so mean with someone who truly just wanted to make sure that you were okay. you swore that you saw caroline's eyes begin to tear up as you raced away from everybody and everything as fast as you could.

"(y/n), what is going on with you?" marta was the last person that you expected to come after you. much to your surprise, marta wasn't outwardly angry with you. if anything, you just saw concern in her eyes as she stared down at you.

"i don't really know," you mumbled. it was true, you had no idea why you were feeling the way that you were. it was normal for teenagers to get a bit angsty and angry, but this felt out of control. no matter what you did or who you spent time with, your mood never seemed to improve. "nothing helps, it's like i can't relax."

"can i tell you what i think?" marta asked cautiously. you trusted her, and knew that she wouldn't say anything if you didn't want her to. there wasn't any harm in hearing her out, so you nodded your head for her to continue. "i think that you're exhausted. it's been pretty obvious to most of us for a while. we've all tried to tell you to slow down, but we can't make that decision for you. have you tried talking to your parents about how you feel?"

"my mom says that i should look into summer classes, but i have to test into them. she's worried that i won't make it in. my finals didn't look good, and she says that she wants what's best for me, but i don't know if i believe that anymore," you said. it felt nice to get it off of your chest.

"would it be okay if some of us talked to her? maybe alexia or irene can lead the charge if you think that it would help. none of us want to see you like this anymore. we miss our little chica, the little ball of happiness and energy." marta caressed your cheek, and you leaned into her hand. you were absolutely exhausted, and it was like a weight was lifted off of your chest for having finally spoken about your feelings.

"thank you, marta." her heart broke a little at how defeated you sounded. she hated that they had let things get this bad. "i should go apologize to caro, she looked upset."

"do not worry about that right now. most of the girls are in the gym. i think that mapi left a blanket in the locker room for you. please just take a nap and then we can all have a big talk later, vale?" marta asked hopefully. she breathed out a sigh of relief when you got up and walked to the locker room. around an hour and a half later, she found you fast asleep on the bench in front of caroline's locker. there was a note with your apology written out on it, as well as one to each of the girls that you had already snapped at that week.

"she's a good kid," alexia said as she glanced down at your body. it was blocking her seat in front of her own locker, but alexia was happy to move around you for the time being. she believed that you needed your rest more than she needed to sit.

"she really is," sandra agreed. "i think that i'm going to take her home for a little while. she can sleep at my house while we talk to her parents."

"will they listen?" irene asked. she had heard a lot of things about your parents, whether from sandra or you in passing that made her question whether or not they really had your best interests at heart.

"if they don't, ingrid and i will take her in," mapi promised. for a moment, there were a couple of skeptical looks thrown around, but alexia shut each of them down quickly. alexia could see the seriousness in mapi's eyes well enough to know that the woman meant it. you were like her little sister, and mapi just wanted to make sure that you were properly taken care of. she already felt like she had failed you for letting you get so stressed.

…

you let out a heavy sigh as you flopped back against your bed. it felt weird to think about. this was your bed in your room in your home. your parents' place had been your home once, but it didn't feel nearly as warm and safe as mapi and ingrid's apartment did. this was a place where your best interests were truly at heart, with your input included.

it was definitely sad leaving your parents behind, but they had been all too happy to sign you away. they didn't want to keep you around if you weren't going to listen to them. somehow, they had tried to turn this all around on you for failing them, but your teammates were quick to shut that down. alexia and the others hadn't even walked out before mapi and ingrid were pulling up to take you away.

"that was the last box chica. i was going to suggest that we take a break because ingrid is on her way back with pizza. do you want some time alone or would you like to watch some tv with me and alexia?" mapi asked you. a part of you wanted to sit and sulk about your parents letting you go, but the part of you that wanted to enjoy your new family won out. you shot off of your bed and followed mapi into the living room.

alexia was curled up with a blanket on the bigger couch in the living room. you and mapi seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over to either side of alexia. the two of you played a little game of tug of war that alexia helped you win. you cuddled up against alexia's side, nearly falling asleep before ingrid got back with pizza. it was definitely different than the environment that you were used to, but it was a heartily welcomed changed.

[frankenkyle19]

Caught Pt. 1

Virgin!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

warnings/description: Coriolanus came over to your house to work on a project together. When you come back from getting the two of you snacks in the kitchen, you catch him red handed with your vibrator in hand. So you decided to teach him a lesson. Use of vibrators, handjob (kind of), sub!coryo, virgin!coryo, softdom!reader

word count: 2.3k

You’d never expected to be paired up with the Coriolanus Snow for a school project, but here you were. Your parents weren’t home, so it was just you and Coriolanus, which unsettled you a bit, but you knew he wasn’t dumb enough to try anything. 

Not that you’d mind really. You’d had your eyes on him since you were both fifteen, when he started filling out a bit, getting taller, prettier. You had too. You’d grown into your body and well let’s just say, the Academy boys didn’t fail to notice. All except Coriolanus. Who didn’t seem to have interest in anyone. You’d heard rumors about how Coriolanus had gotten a blowjob from a girl behind the train station, but you called bullshit on that. There was no way. 

He never noticed you and it wasn’t even for lack of trying. You did try. You dressed up all pretty, did your hair, even bent down in front of him. All his attention was on his studies. For that stupid Plinth Prize. It all seemed like a load of nonsense, but you knew how seriously Coriolanus took his assignments and didn’t want to cause him any unneeded stress. Usually he was paired with Clemensia, and you, Arachne but apparently your teacher had decided to mix things up a bit. Tensions ran high already with the tenth annual Hunger Games coming up, but this just added to it.

You’d left Coriolanus in your room to sit while you went down and got some snacks and water for the both of you. You figured you’d both be here a while, especially because you didn’t know each other well at all, or your methods of research and study. 

You didn’t fail to miss the way his eyes lit up at the mention of snacks, but you also didn’t go out of your way to question it. It was a very thinly veiled secret that the Snow’s weren’t as swimming in money as Coriolanus said. Or maybe you were the only one that noticed? Needless to say you were going to find a way to send the boy home with a bag full of sweets and snacks. Somehow.

You weren’t exactly sure what he liked, so you grabbed a bit of everything. Chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter fudge, chips, and if he was still hungry after that, maybe you’d make some sandwiches or something. 

With two glasses of water in hand, and the snacks stuffed under your arm, you made your way back to your room. It was eerily silent in the house and a bout of unease settled over you again in cold droves. Truth be told, you didn’t know Coriolanus well at all, and you’d just invited him over to your house, while no one else was here. Sometimes you need to think before you act.

Coriolanus would never hurt you… would he?

The answer was of course not, but he would drive you mad.

You hadn’t called out before opening your bedroom door. Because why would you? It was your bedroom. But oh you had wish you’d knocked the second you opened the door and your eyes fell on Coriolanus.

The Coriolanus Snow, standing over your open dresser drawer, with your vibrator in hand.

Your mouth dropped open and you nearly dropped the drinks you had clutched in either hand. What the fuck was he doing?! Snooping around in your stuff while you left to go get him snacks?

His eyes shot open, wide as saucers when you opened the door. For a second he thought about tossing the vibrator and running, but he was a deer caught in headlights. Frozen in place, the incriminating object in hand.

“I can explain-“ he started, setting the toy down on the dresser and turning to face you. He was wearing his red academy outfit, jacket undone and he looked absolutely ethereal but you couldn’t just say that.. especially not now. Not when he’d been caught like this. Red handed.

You stepped further into the room, kicking the door closed behind you before setting the snacks and drinks down on your bedside table. Once your hands were free, they both went to your hips as you cocked a brow at the blond haired boy in front of you, looking extremely guilty.

“Well, get started then Coriolanus Snow because an explanation is going to take you an awful long while.” You shook your head, holding your ground. You had the upper hand here and you loved it. 

“I was… looking for a pen. For my notebook. I forgot to bring one.” Your eyes glanced at the pile of notebooks on your bed and you saw several pens. Liar.

But you didn’t call him out on it. Not yet at least. This was comical, and seeing him stumble for an answer was just about the funniest thing you’d ever seen.

You sat down on your bed, letting your skirt ride up your thighs. You’d picked a short one, again, but you didn’t think that there would be a real reason to finally tease Coriolanus. 

His eyes trailed up your legs, your thighs, and then- 

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you going to keep staring all day or are you going to come here?” You asked, meeting his startled eyes once more.

He didn’t want to seem to eager, but when you said those words he wanted to bound over like a puppy eager to get treats. When he took a step towards you though, you brought a hand up to stop him from coming any closer.

“Bring that with you, since you seem to like it so much.”

He turned to see what you were pointing at. The vibrator. His long shaky fingers reached out to grab it and when it was securely in his grip, he made his way back to you.

You were busy kicking the notebooks and pens off of the bed to clear room before you patted the mattress, eyes watching him so intensely that he was a bit (a lot) overwhelmed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed but that just wouldn’t do. You urged him to scoot closer until your knees brushed his arm and he swallowed hard. You saw how hard he was trying to keep himself composed, but he was beginning to crack.

You didn’t just want him to crack though. You wanted him to fall apart.

“Before we do anything, Coryo,” you’d never called him by that nickname before and it sent him reeling.

“Tell me. That rumor about you and that girl behind the train station. It isn’t true is it?” You cooed, hand coming to rest on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, where the red fabric was beginning to form a tent.

“N-no… No, nothing happened. She just…. She tried to kiss me but I got scared and ran off. She didn’t want to embarrass me so I guess she just started a more good looking rumor. Not one that cast me as a chicken…” He swallowed hard as he watched your hand creep farther and farther up his thigh.

So Coriolanus was a virgin. Just like you thought. 

“And why’d you decide to snoop around in my things, huh pretty boy?” He grimaced at the use of words. Pretty boy always sounded more like an insult than a compliment.

“Festus….” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning bright red.

“Festus what? Possessed your body and forced you to be a snoop? Use your words.”

“Festus is always talking about how- how he finds these toys at all the girl’s houses that he goes over to. That every girl has them. I just… I guess I wanted to see if he was a liar or not.”

You nodded, trying not to crack a smile, but it was rather funny.

You carefully took the vibrator from his hand, turning the switch on and letting it buzz in your hand. Coriolanus jumped, obviously not expecting that. He watched in awe for several seconds before he looked back up to meet your eyes.

“How does that… feel good?” He asked curiously, almost stupidly.

“Well, do you want me to show you?”

Coriolanus thought you meant on you, so he nodded, but when you placed the vibrator right over his clothed erection, he tensed, almost scrambling away from the new feeling. That was until… Ohhh. 

Fuck that felt good.

He gripped the bedsheets, eyes wide. No. There was no way this was happening.

He steeled himself, face hardening as he cleared his throat. He couldn’t be that desperate for just a little touch. No. He refused to embarrass himself like that.

You saw the way he tensed and you knew exactly what he was doing. Poor poor sweet Coriolanus snow. He’d never been touched like this before. Probably never had anything more than his hand.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You cooed against his ear and he jumped. When had you gotten so close? He nodded, jaw clenched. He wasn’t giving you anymore satisfaction than that.

But you had other plans. He most definitely was going to be giving you much more satisfaction when you were done with him. With breaking him.

You turned off the vibrator and set it next to you on the bed, hands coming to take hold of Coriolanus’ belt, fingers deftly undoing the loops before pulling it off his waist.

Next was the bottom half of his academy uniform. It was a bit complicated to manage thanks to the pants and skirt duo that you’d always found a bit odd. It worked for him though. 

When it was loosened, you managed to tug it off of his legs, letting the red fabric bunch up into a pile on your floor. 

Coriolanus was just left in his white dress shirt and red jacket and a pair of black boxers that did little to cover his aching erection.

You reached forward to palm him and Coriolanus stiffened further, hands clenched in the bed sheets as he tried to keep his composure. It was almost cute how hard he was trying. 

“So hard,” you cooed, letting your palm rest against his hardness. He felt big and your mouth watered a bit.

Coriolanus breathed heavily through his nose, nostrils flaring as he watched you intently. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of holding himself together, but that was kind of funny because you thought the exact opposite.

You shimmied his boxers off of his pale legs, watching his cock spring free and hit his tummy. He let out a quiet whine, but you didn’t show that you’d heard. You wanted him to think that he had his composure for a little while longer.

He expected you to wrap your hand around him, maybe even give him a blowjob, but you didn’t reach for him. Instead you reached for the vibrator and he swallowed hard.

Fuck.

You clicked it on, on the lightest setting, just to warm him up before you pressed it to his leaking head.

His reaction was instant. He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, hands clutching the bedsheets for dear life, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead, his blond hair getting in his eyes.

You’d never expected your innocent study session to turn into this, but you were more than happy with the outcome.

“I-“ Coriolanus tried to form a sentence but just cut himself off because that wasn’t going to happen. If he spoke, he’d just embarrass himself further.

“Good boy,” you whispered, letting the vibrator run across his cock, watching the way he twitched and leaked a generous amount of pre-cum. 

“So needy, leaking all over Coriolanus,” you laughed, but not at him and he seemed to know that. He gave his own nervous chuckle as his hips arched into the feeling of the vibrator against him.

Just when he was beginning to get used to the feeling, you increased the speed and intensity by a few notches and he nearly fell back on the bed, his breath knocked out of his lungs.

“Oh my god!” He cried, suddenly so very hot as he tried to shrug off his jacket, letting it pool around him in a sea of red.

“That’s so- oh my god-“ What else was there to say? He couldn’t even articulate what he wanted to say with the way you brushed the vibrator against his tip, pressing against it ever so slightly just to get another whine from him.

“H-hey!” His eyes flew open at the feeling, so intense it was almost painful and you let the vibrator retreat further down his length, to the base, watching the way he twitched.

Sensitive. Such a sensitive boy. You’d have to explore that further another time. Because there would definitely be another time.

“I-I’m- I feel-“ Coriolanus was getting progressively more worked up as his hips bucked up in a steady motion against the feeling.

“Close? Come for me my sweet boy, be such a dirty boy and come all over my vibrator. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Your words had the intended effect because not even a moment later every muscle in his body was tending before thick ropes of cum shot from his sensitive cock.

It covered the vibrator, your hand and his lower stomach. He came a lot and you wondered if that was an every time thing or if it was just because he was a virgin.

You let the vibrator run along his cock for a moment longer until he let out a desperate whine, trying to paw your hand away pathetically.

You turned the vibrator off and set it back on your bed as you looked at the mess Coriolanus had made. That you’d helped him make.

“That was-“ He said breathlessly, shaking his head.

“Good? Yeah, I’m sure it was sweetheart.” 

He leaned forward, his blue eyes shining before he kissed you, a little warily. But when you kissed right back he smiled against your lips, one of his hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Can I use it on you now?” He asked, blue eyes alert and ready for more.

and how could you deny him?

[stinmybubs]

“Rot My Brain” Fluff!

AN: I cannot stop thinking about Katsuki, he’s rotting my brain to the core. I’m gonna mix in some of my irl bfs actions with Katsuki’s personality cuz sometimes they clash. And omg I can write Kenma off my bf for sure. This will be my titles for all my brain rots!

Here’s a lazy Picrew banner divider thingy -

B. Katsuki x AFAB! Reader!

Katsuki can’t keep his hands off you. Every minute he has his hands somewhere on your body, for him it’s not only comforting but he loves to keep you close. Making sure every moment he has is next to you, not to mention he barley knows how to express his love in any other way.

This became a habit ever since you two became close friends, except it was more platonic touches than how of course. When you were friends he would put his hand on your back any time you were just standing next to him.

Katsuki doesn’t care for other eyeing where he touches you, because why would he care what a bunch of extras think? You’re his girl now, with your consent he can touch you wherever he wants!

“Katsuki~!” You giggled as he grabbed you from behind and just sat there for a minute, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. “My love!” You smile in the comfort of his arms. The two of you were currently in the dorm room hallways, he had caught you on the way back to your dorm from the showers.

“Hm?” He answered, just trying to soak in the fresh smell of your shampoo and body wash. “I need to put all my things away.” You place your empty hand on his arms, hanging on to your small basket of shower necessities. “Don’t wanna let you go..” he tightened his grip onto your waist.

“Love I need to put these away then go talk to the girls about something.” You try moving forward a bit only to be stopped in place by your bulky boyfriend. Damn, why’d he have to be this beefy? You thought to yourself trying to look at him by turning your head slightly, only seeing the top of his head.

Katsuki loved holding you. It felt like everything would melt away as soon as you were in his arms. He felt just lighter, calmer, and overall recharged after dealing with the idiots in Class 1-A.

“One min’…” he pressed his face deeper into your neck, taking a deep breath. This action tickled you, letting out a beautiful giggle as he took in your scent. “Katsu that tickles!” You laugh.

Oh how Katsuki loves your laugh. He can never get enough of you.

Katsuki was clingy, indeed. But he of course gives space you need or space he needs. But sometimes you two don’t even notice when he’s clinging onto you, or any sort of touch he has because it’s just so normal for the two of you.

Well everyone else knows and try not to say anything about it.

“You and Bakugou are so cute!!” Mina cheers, shaking you violently “oh how I wish I had a man like that…!” She was so giggly. Finally you were able to hang out with the girls after Bakugou let himself recharge and let you be.

“Thank you Mina.” You grab her arms to stop her from shaking you. The girls loves to gush about relationships, especially as one as lovey dovey as you and Katsuki’s relationship. They always tell you to spill, kiss and tell.

You only shared small details, not too many because you knew how Katsuki likes to keep your relationship stuff private. He really doesn’t want it to get to the guys. Even though they see how clingy he is and tease him about it all the time.

“Fuck off! Yer’ all just mad you can’t get a girl to touch ya!” Katsuki yelled, rolling his eyes at Sero and Denki’s teasing.

Katsuki, sadly his room was bombarded by some of the Class 1-A idiots. What did they want? To poke, tease, and stick their noses in each others business. All he wanted was you in his bed, letting him hold you.

“Cmon man! You don’t even hide it, at least some guys would keep the touching on the low!” Denki teased. Katsuki just glared at him, slumping against the edge of his bed.

“Guys he does have a point, how can you tease him for loving his girl when you guys don’t even have one?” Kirishima, always coming to defend Katsuki. At this point Katsuki was just tuning them all out, he just wished he stopped you from going to hang out with the girls so he could cuddle you.

Katsuki loves you, he wouldn’t stop you from pursuing anything. He wouldn’t stop you from having friends, or even going out with them. Sucks that he just wants to be with you all the time. Just being around you was comforting.

Katsuki was getting impatient, he wanted these guys gone and you in here pronto.

“Alright fuckers get out.” He stood up, starting to push out the protesting guys. And once those guys were out, he pulled out his phone to text you.

Katsu( ˘ ³˘)♥︎: cmover. Now.

The sudden buzz of your phone startled you, going to see who had texted you, a smile spreading across your face. You excuse yourself from the rest of the girls and they all happily wave you bye. Off you go to see your clingy loving boyfriend.

Katsuki loved touching you. No matter what nothing will change. His eyes will never leave you, and his hands will always cling to you. You’re a high that never ends. And he loves that you accept his touch, his love, and his temper. He loves you.

AN: I hope you like this! I was spit balling and just rotting my own brain with Katsu :3 let me know if you’d like a tag list or anything! Love you guysss.

[rs-hawk]

Another version of Bestie’s Werewolf Brother where you two have fallen out of contact for years and when he finds out you’re having a baby with someone else because you start being friends with his sister again and he gets really possessive and starts stalking you again. He finds out you’re a single mom and suddenly he realizes he just wants a baby with you even if it’s not his pup 🥺❣️Mostly fluff plz but I’d love some smut too

Not you bringing out this trope when I literally posted it’s my fave. Lol. No smut all fluff but I might do more with this if y’all like it 🥰

When you got pregnant your boyfriend acted like he was happy. He lavished you in compliments and told everyone how excited he was to be starting a family with you. Your childhood bestie and you even reconnected, her excited about baby names and planning your baby shower. It’s like you picked up right where you left off.

When you ask about her brother, she’s obviously uncomfortable. She comes up with all kinds of excuses about why he doesn’t want to talk to you, or why he seemed to have just vanished off social media recently. You can’t help but feeling hurt but you keep it to yourself.

When you catch your boyfriend cheating on you, you end up packing up all your stuff in a night and moving back in with your parents. It sucks. You can’t help but feel like a failure. You start going for walks more at the local park, just trying anything to keep your mind off your predicament.

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you.

You didn’t know that he had already been stalking you for months. Ever since he found out you were pregnant. He thought he could get past it, get past you, but hearing that you had been with someone else drove him crazy. He wanted to be angry with you. To hate you, even, and that other man’s baby, but the longer he stalked you, the more he realized how much he missed you. How he just wanted to be around you again.

“Hi,” you said as you turned around, awkwardly holding your arms in front of your stomach. You knew he knew, but you couldn’t help but wish this wasn’t the first time he was seeing you after all these years.

“It looks like you’re doing well.”

You shrugged, moving your arms and shoving your hands in your pockets. “I guess.”

“My sister said you’re… getting engaged,” he managed to get out without growling.

“We were, but some stuff happened. I’m living back at home until I can find a place.”

He knew he shouldn’t be happy, but he was. After that, he started offering to help you with everything. Need someone to drive you to an OBGYN appointment? Needed help putting the bassinet together? Couldn’t figure out which kind of car seat to get? He was always there and offering to help.

You were surprised, pleasantly so. You’d never thought much about it, but you didn’t think that he would be so involved in your pregnancy when 1) you weren’t dating and 2) it wasn’t his baby. As the weeks passed, he started asking to touch your stomach when he saw movement. He came to your parents’ house all hours of the day if you even hinted that you wanted to see him or if you wanted something.

When you went into labor, your mother took you, much to his disappointment. He came to visit you of course, but he seemed a little off when he came in. His head was down, and he wasn’t nearly as imposing as he normally was, especially considering he was mostly shifted. Then a nurse came back in with the baby after giving a bath.

“Oh! Here’s Dad,” she smiled as she placed the small bundle in his arms, though she did admittedly look a little uneasy.

You started to correct her, but he just started at the little one in his arms with wide eyes. You’d never seen him be so gentle. His ears were perked up, and you couldn’t help but notice his tail started to wag. He shushed you mid-sentence as you tried telling the nurse he wasn’t the dad.

“Human babies are so tiny,” he whispered, rocking the baby in his arms.

The nurse looked between you before slipping out. He stayed almost the entire time you were in the hospital. Even your parents left more often than him. While he was attentive to you, he was even more attentive to the baby. Asking the nurses to show him how to swaddle. Reading up on when human babies can eat solid food (because it’s just a couple months for pups).

He’s the one that took you home. Your parents are excited when they see his car pull up and you’re admittedly a little confused. When you get inside, you see that he took it upon himself to baby proof everything. He put together an entire nursery when you were just going to have the baby sleep in your room in the bassinet. He even sprung to get a crib since he had read online that infants can only be in bassinets for a few months.

That’s when you realize that he really is the best for you. He’s always been the best for you, and he’s the best for your baby too. The baby fell asleep in his arms before he settled the tiny bundle into the crib. Tears pricked your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face in his shoulder.

“You’ll stay, right?”

A low rumble in his chest vibrated your body when he spun around, grabbing you up in his arms. “I’ll never leave again.”

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Teach us - Part one

@missakward123: can you do dom! reader poly marauders? Also loved this!! Yes I can, but I have such a hard time writing a sub!Remus, so I kinda took it in my own direction.

Part two is found here!

Reader x Remus turned into Reader x Poly!Marauders.

Masterlist.

They thought it was strange how Remus had been the first to lose his virginity out of the three of them. Both Sirius and James had girls throwing themselves after them constantly, but somehow, Remus was the first to go all the way.

You had always found them all quite attractive, but thought that Sirius and James tended to be a bit obnoxious at times. When you saw Remus studying alone in the library one day, you thought you’d go up and say hi to the tall, handsome guy. The two of you had only talked briefly before this interaction, but soon found that you enjoyed each other’s company. It didn’t take long from there for you to go on a date and soon you were a couple. 

Remus, ever the gentleman, didn’t tell his friends about your first time, he thought it was best kept private between the two of you, therefore you always tried to keep it somewhat lowkey, finding time to be perfectly alone. Though any secret could not be held for long in that dorm and one evening the cat came running and screaming out of the bag. You thought you’d get to be alone with Remus, as the other two had practice. As it turned out, however, practice was canceled and the door to the dorm was thrown open just in time for the two surprised boys to see you orgasm, quivering around Remus’ cock.

It slightly ruined the mood and you struggled to cover yourself as Sirius went on a long rampage about “The betrayal! The absolute betrayal. Our baby moons got laid and didn’t tell us. Here he is, having had sex the whole time – while keeping us in the dark.” He was pacing back and forth, only half joking about his distress before deciding to be the bigger person and be happy for his friend. “Good job Moons. First one out of all of us. Amazing.” With a chef’s kiss he left the subject of betrayal and moved on to something else.

After the embarrassing moment of coming in front of your boyfriend’s friends, it didn’t take long before the question was asked.

“Hey Moony, since you already had sex, could you teach us how to do it?”

“Yeah, Moons, I wanna be ready for when Lily lets me go all the way if you catch my drift,” James agreed, with a very unnecessary wink as everyone understood exactly what he meant.

You stared, gaping. That they would ask such a question didn’t surprise you one bit. The fact that Remus seemed to be actually thinking it over did.

“I guess,” he started, patting your thigh, “you’re gonna ask her if she’s willing to teach you.”

You, teaching his friends how to have sex? The idea was preposterous. Yet… It did make you feel a certain tingle between your legs. You still found them attractive, and the thought of being the one to take their virginities? Oh, that was just beautiful. You thought it over in your head. Remus was quite dominant, not really treating you as a submissive but he liked being a bit in control, he’d never let you have all the reigns. These two however… Looking Remus straight in the eye, you searched for any form of hesitance – you didn’t find any.

“Alright then, we’re gonna have to set some rules,” you said.

It was agreed that the day after, you’d help take your boyfriend’s best friends’ virginities. You said 24 hours to give everyone a chance to back out, and told them very specifically that they would shower, properly, “none of that locker room stuff, a real shower, clean everything.” It was best to be clear when dealing with teenage boys.

A whole 24 hours later you found yourself walking up the stairs to their dorm. You knew Remus would be there, and you knew they’d given consent. You wore your school skirt, but without panties, a t-shirt with a very flattering bra and your hair out. You had to get yourself in that dominant mood, ready to boss the boys around. Since becoming Remus’ girlfriend, you had gotten to know his friends as well. You knew James would be easier to dom, and you knew Sirius would be a little brat. Therefore, you started with James. Opening the door, you could cut the tension with a knife.

The boys were so cute and nervous, standing up and waiting for you (not Remus, of course, he was comfortably splayed out on his own bed). “Jamie,” you said. “Do you still wanna do this?” He nodded. “Okay, then take your clothes off and sit down on your bed. You,” you turned to Sirius, “are gonna have to wait your turn.”

When James was naked and seated on the edge of his bed, you took a moment to appreciate his toned body. The moment didn’t last very long though as you wanted to feel him. Climbing into his lap, thighs straddling his, you took his face and held it in your hands. He was so pretty, so soft, so pliable. “Jamie, have you ever kissed a girl?” you asked him, bringing your mouth so close to his that your lips almost touched his. “No,” he said, cheeks flushing red. Holding onto his cheeks, you brought your lips against his, softly at first, then with a little more pleasure. The warm breath from his nose on your cheek sent chills down your spine. Deciding to progress, you slightly opened your mouth, letting your tongue out to lick lightly at his lips. He moaned.

You continued kissing him, making out really, until you felt he was ready to move on. Leaning back a little, you pulled your top over your head, revealing your soft tits, perfectly framed by your bra. “Go ahead, baby, you can touch.” With your permission, warm hands pressed against your back before following the lines of your body, meeting your front and lightly squeezing your tits. You allowed him to explore freely, until he pushed his head down, paused and looked up at you, eyes asking for permission. Instead of answering him verbally, you pushed your tits against his face, letting him know he could kiss and suck all he wanted. He did manage to get your bra off all on his (you were so proud of him), and as it fell to the floor, you felt his cock twitching.

You let him play some more with your boobies before taking his hand, kissing it once and telling him “Jamie, have you ever felt a girl?” When he shook his head, you kissed the top of his head and pushed his hand down, between your bodies and toward your core. “Feel that? I’m all wet, that’s all for you baby,” you cooed, watching his facial expressions in awe – he was so fascinated. “Now, do you know where your little cock is supposed to go?” Little was a big lie. His brows furrowed in concentration as he felt around for the right hole, he did find it, and pushed a finger in. “Good boy, now put your cock in.” You raised yourself, hovering above him, hand coming down to help him push his cock into your warm hole. “Oh that’s a good boy f’me,” you moaned, loving the feeling of him filling you up.

Being so focused on James had almost made you forget about your audience, looking to the side, you met Remus’ hungry eyes. You could tell he was enjoying the show, hand rubbing against the bulge in his pants. You decided not to look at Sirius, making him wait for your attention.

Grabbing James’ shoulders, you carefully tried moving, sliding yourself along his cock, making you both moan. You tried a few different movements, going up and down, back and forth. It felt really good and you enjoyed playing around with it, and it seemed as though he was enjoying it too, his head thrown back, glasses askew and mouth slightly open. Suddenly his hands squeezed hard on your hips, making you stop your movements. “Jamie, you okay?” You asked, massaging his scalp with your fingers. “Yeah,” he reassured, “yeah, just need to… I’m gonna come…”

You giggled softly, “it’s okay if you do, but first, I wanna do one more thing.” Pulling your body away from his was hard, letting his heavy cock fall out of you was even harder, and you immediately mourned the loss. Though, you knew it would be worth it. Laying down flat on your back, you beckoned for him to join you, to climb on top of you. “You should know how to fuck a girl, Jamie,” you said, helping him find his way back into you. His athletic body was made for this, for moving himself back and forth, hips pushing against yours. He didn’t go very fast, but you knew he’d be able to when he got more used to the feeling. Hiding his face against your neck, letting the vibrations of his moans shoot right through you, his hips started making the smallest, cutest, most desperate little movements. “That’s good baby, that’s a good boy, you’re doing so well, so good, making me feel so good.” You didn’t think you’d be able to come, he was a virgin, but the little thrusts pushed the head of his cock against you in a way that just felt too good to hold back.

“Jamie, baby, I’m ‘bout to come,” you moaned, kissing his head, holding him close, “you’re so go- ah-od,” your moans grew louder as you experienced a rather mild orgasm, though, an orgasm nonetheless. Your walls spasming around him made him come as well, pretty cock filling you up with his little virgin cum.

“Wow, Jamie, you did so well, I’m so proud of you,” you told him, after he had pulled out and collapsed on top of you. His head was still buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and hard. “Did you enjoy it?” You asked, to which he pulled his face away, eyes wide. “Like it? That was amazing.”

You stayed like that, letting him hold onto your body for a while, not wanting to leave him without aftercare and love. Though you knew, as soon as James moved away from you, you’d have to deal with his mischievous best friend. Before you let James continue his cuddling – with Remus – you made him promise you something. “Next time love, you’re gonna let me take your cute little cock in my mouth, okay?” To this, he nodded, excitedly.

Part two.

[hor3nee]

• Vows •

Gojo figuring out how arranged marriage works.

CW/TW: Fem! reader, Arranged Marriage, Heavy suggestive stuff, Mentions of virginity, Condoms?, Gojo typical flirting, Reader & Gojo ages implied to be very young (18-23), SFW (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo x Reader

AN: Pt 2 of this fic. I will die on this bitchless Gojo hill.

"You look as beautiful as the day I married you hon'." He says with his characteristic wide smile, proud of himself for that line. Even threw in a sweet pet-name, the kind girls like.

"You married me, like, two weeks ago." He should not be proud of himself for that line.

The silence is almost deafening after that, and Gojo hates the quiet. Can't stand it. He's not used to it, he's loud and obnoxious, he's self-aware of that though, part of his charm he says. Charm, he's got an endless bountiful of it, in his ego-ridden mind at least, and honestly, he's not wrong. There's absolutely nothing Gojo lacks.

Killing curses as though it's walking through a park, handing out checks like he's got an unlimited supply of them. A living breathing powerhouse, a god even, some could say. He's young, a very young man, but he's already hailed by Jujutsu society and about anyone with a semblance of knowledge of who he was, The Strongest.

Fresh into adulthood and he's already considered one, if not the most notorious man in Jujutsu society, the potency he holds is incomparable to any other. Handsome too. Fluffy pearl white hair, legs for days, a nice build, toned, keeps it all maintained effortlessly, genetics or the such he thanks for it. A flirt in nature, girls fawned over him, how could they not? An attractive dashing young man such as himself of course they do.

Never been with one before though. A woman.

He didn't date in his teens, school was grueling, he was the strongest and he was busy, always. He could get a girl all buttered up on words sure, he has one hell of a mouth on him... Couldn't actually ask one out though, or kiss one, or get laid by one. His experience with them is non-existent. Truthfully, Gojo is as virgin as a virgin could be, he seems like he lacks in nothing, but relationships? He's clueless.

Yet here he is, married. Weaved into a union with a woman. The papers signed, wedding ceremonies done, vows out and said. Sealed his whole self to another, to you. And as are you, sewn into this 'relationship' same as he is to each other. Orchestrated by the hands of Clan elders, arranged before either of you had met each other.

Fourteen nights of sharing the same bed since, living together as spouses. It's odd, confusing, Gojo who bathes himself in self-assured composure twenty-four-seven, hasn't the faintest idea how this works. But, he is Satoru Gojo, he's hot shit, and you haven't had any complaints yet. Even if you're only two weeks into marriage, he's got this.

Just like he's got everything else in his life, he's sure of himself. The two of you have slowly, but surely gotten more comfortable with each other. Gojo does well, friendly and welcoming by nature, albeit it can come off as cockiness, he brings energy into every dinner you two share so it doesn't feel jarring and off-putting eating with basically a stranger who you'd call your spouse.

The times you touch, comes off as natural. A smooth one he is, Gojo, craftically slipping his hand by your ear to tuck a strand hair, nudging you awake in the morning effortlessly so you don't get startled. The touch of your knees when you sit beside each other. It feels natural, he makes it feel natural.

To you.

But Gojo? His brain is working in overdrive, has been since the day he took you home from the wedding. He didn't realize it at first, still full of himself in ever-lasting confidence, but as quickly as the first two weeks of being newlyweds went by, so did the semblance of stability he held in his ego. Neither of you had even shared a kiss yet. That should've happened by now, right?

Fuck.

Wait, should you two have fucked by now? Lord knows he's thought about it, a lot, he's a young man stocked full of endless libido. And you are his wife, and you're pretty. Every feather-light touch he's managed to sneak in effortlessly you seemed at ease in, but he's been mentally reeling if it's too far. Too inappropriate, but then again you are his wife.

He's your husband, you two are literally married, living together, sleeping together. Sleeping together only, of course, sex feels like something in the distant future. He'd hate to pressure you, especially since you two are just starting out, technically already locked in, till death do us part, but truly just at the start of companionship with each other.

But Gojo, is impatient and a bit aloof. He's not gonna push for anything, but when he saw the condoms at the store and thought 'Hey I have a girl now!' what else was he supposed to do? Immaturity at its finest considering how he's now sat with you, and the condoms stuffed into his back pocket while you two sit on the bed and you'd just shot down his sad attempt at flirting. With his own wife.

"...Is there something you wanna tell me?" Your eyes are glued to your phone as you ask, but he notices they flicker onto him. He's staring, isn't he? You've gotten used to it, his eyes just have a mind of their own, he can't help it he always looks like he's glaring even when he's not, and after a week spent with you sharing a home with him, he can't help himself but look at you. You're beautiful. And you're his.

"Maybe." He'll settle for being a smug little shit instead, still staring at you as he speaks.

"Maybe?" You repeat, putting down your phone in interest as he clearly tries to lure you to talk.

He hums, shrugging innocently and crawling to your side of the bed, used to be his but the night of your wedding you unknowingly took that side and he's been letting you rest on it since. Seamlessly, he pulls his face to yours in a swift but not sudden motion, his nose almost budding with yours.

There's a shared glance, a look into his eyes as he looks into yours, and the density of the air in the bedroom suddenly shoots up straight to 100. Ticklish bouts of his breath fanning lightly against your cheek while he smiles at you, expression, as always, never faltering. But movements telling. He takes your chin by his narrow fingers. You hadn't even seen them move to grasp your face, too transfixed on the look in his palpitating eyes instead.

"Can I kiss you?" There's a second, a moment for you to think, drawn out by the way his voice glides through your ears as he asks. Two weeks together, vowed to one another and you've found yourself caught in his gaze alone. You're starting to feel it, the drum of your heart responding to him.

And so, you nod, his grasp on your chin so gentle you don't even notice it's there holding your face near his as you do. It happens quickly, but it feels like an eternity, a good kind, a soft sort of mere milliseconds between the nod of approval and him moving forward catching your lips against his. His lips are soft, lulling against you and though brief has you leaning into him for more, slouching into him like you're calling for him to caress, to feel more of him in the moment, and he does that, his hands moving to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him.

Once it's done and you two, in natural timing, pull away with a slight wet plop noise breaking the silence you can see it in his eyes. Desire, need, and maybe, just maybe, love. It's small but it's there.

He meant it when he said he liked you, then on that first night, purely by expectation, you're his wife. Of course, he likes you, you're supposed to like him, he's your husband. But two weeks in and he's understanding it more, what it means to like someone, to have them as yours. To have you as his. His dazed expression from a kiss alone tells you that, this is real. He's married and he just kissed a girl, the girl he's promised his life to.

"..Gojo-"  You murmur as he reels from the kiss and gathers himself, a goofy grin plastered on his hazed expression.

"Mhm~" He purrs at you, starting to get giddy.

"Are those condoms?" He blinks at your question, stare breaking from your eyes and your lips he'd left wet with his saliva he'd been caught up looking into, to where your eyes had turned to look. He follows your eyes and looks to see the box out of his pocket, crumpled slightly from him sitting on it, spilled open over the bed.

The rubbers are all over the bed.

His hands don't pull off the sides of your waist, and his smile doesn't falter. Instead, his smirk grows, and he turns back to look at you in the eyes again. Giddy expression is written all over his face, his fingers pulling you closer with ease, because you lean into it and situate yourself closer as he does so, responding to him.

"Yup!" Gojo Satoru has no room for shame. Much less with the pretty woman he has as a wife. Marriage, the foundation of family, what makes a house a home, as his elders told him, he's getting it now. Having you here only two weeks it's already starting to feel properly shared with you, his house, your home, both of yours home. 

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Valentines Day Special Fic ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ My friend silly giving me this idea i had no other V-day special then they reminded me I'm actually a writer so O7 to u bestie ]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ And In Those Eyes I see Heaven; My Heaven] ¡! ❞

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Jinwoo muses as he watches your face light up with a soft giggle.

Here he was, in front of you. Sporting a tuxedo that oh-so fits him perfectly that he looks straight of a dream with a bouquet of delicately arranged pink roses he plans to give to you.

Jinwoo had even went so far as to brush his hair neatly and maybe even wax it, making you laugh all the more uncontrollably as he tries to process what is going on exactly.

Silly.

It's so silly, really.

Back then, he was a shy boy who would stutter when he gives you your annual valentines day gift.

Jinwoo really couldn't spend too much money since he needed to save some for later expenses and academic stuff.

So instead he would resort into horribly handmade gifts

He started with the sloppiest and most crudely made paper boquets.

Jinwoo is ashamed of himself, but he couldn't take the gifts back since you would horde them to yourself for safekeeping.

His gifts would range to horribly made papercrafts, to seashells he found by the shore, to necklaces he put together by trinkets.

He would take you out to innocent dates, walking you on quiet parks of seoul. If the parks are too noisy, Jinwoo would go out of his way to search for possible date places.

Maybe it would be you two passing by supposed haunted buildings, maybe you two would be in the bookstore skimming around on the book covers and debating which book would look more fanciful to read than the other, other times he would take you to isolated cafes where only the two of you and the barista would be making noise in the soundless place.

No matter how funny and cute your valentines were, you knew, for sure— That whatever Jinwoo does is from the bottom of his heart.

He would think his efforts are stupid, but secretly that was why you loved him.

It's not because it was expected of a boyfriend, it was because he did something even if he knows he wouldn't do the best.

Jinwoo would always be trying for you, he would always be thoughtful of you, so much so that it makes your heart just cry from his sincerity.

How could someone just be so full of love? How could someone just give their hearts out like that? How is he so sincere?

Even if he were struggling with his odd jobs, even if he was silently crying behind closed doors from the stress living is causing him— Jinwoo always thought of you, he thought of how he could make you happy the next time you meet.

He thought of how he would hide his wounds and gashes from hunts just for you.

He always, always, thought of you.

But little did you knew, he had done some stuff for your attention.

He made those crude gifts because he wanted to see you make fun of him, he wanted to see you burst out laughing and gush about the little thing he made.

He took you to different places because he wanted you to see the more beautiful things of this world, he wanted to show you just how worth it living here is even if the world seems so dark and horrible.

He took you to those quiet little corners so he could hear your voice better without the background noise of anything else.

He often hides his injuries, yes, but sometimes he would purposely let those bandages get lose because he knew you would wrap it up for him. Whether you do it silently or you do it while scolding him, all he cared about, was how beautiful you are right at that moment.

Jinwoo loves you, more than you will ever know, more than any words could ever describe.

The swelling of his heart that never ends, the butterflies in his stomach that keeps fluttering around, and the galaxy he sees in your eyes— Oh how he loved you.

Even if he didn't say 'I love you' 3000' times a day, even if he couldn't give you everything back then— He loved you with all of him just as he does right if not more.

He loves subtly touching your fingers, he loves grazing his fingers on your lovely face, he loves staring at you in a complete daze, he loves running his hands through your soft hair.

Overall, he ust loved touching you and admiring you up close or from afar.

Because so long as you are in front of him, he doesn't really need to think about anything but just....

'Ah,... I love you so much'

Just how can he not spoil you no matter how much he embarasses himself?

And that same flimsy, wimpy and shy little boy, is now a man.

Dressed so handsomely in his suit, upright posture, a proud smile on his face.

This Man...

No

Your Man.

Your Sung Jinwoo

Your Jinwoo.

Not the Shadow Monarch, not the Tenth S-ranker of South Korea, not the World's Strongest hunter.

Just Jinwoo.

Your lovely, lovely, Jinwoo.

Even if he had grown so much, even if he had become so drastically different.

He is still Jinwoo.

The Jinwoo who made you crude paper flowers

The Jinwoo who dragged you into silly places

The Jinwoo who never stops at loving you.

...

"You know..." Jinwoo sighs, chuckling as he ruffles his hair to mess it up a little. "I think this version of me is better than a super formal gentleman, right?"

Yeah.

That's right.

A gentleman Jinwoo is always welcome.

But the Jinwoo who is just him is much... Much more lovable.

"Happy Valentines Day, Love."

[retroellie]

Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers

Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.

A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?

Word count: 8K

Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.

That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.

It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.

He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.

Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.

"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.

Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.

"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.

Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.

"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."

You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.

"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.

"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted

You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.

"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.

You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.

Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.

"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.

His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.

"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.

"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.

"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.

Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.

Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.

"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."

Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.

"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.

"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.

"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.

You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.

-

-

You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.

Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.

You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.

The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.

You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.

Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.

"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.

You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.

"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."

Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.

"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"

Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.

That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.

Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.

"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"

His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.

"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."

You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.

"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."

You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.

"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"

Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.

"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.

"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.

You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.

"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated

Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.

Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.

"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."

Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.

You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.

You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.

"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."

He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.

"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.

"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.

You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.

You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.

"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.

Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.

"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.

You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.

"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.

"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.

You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.

"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.

He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.

After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.

"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."

His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.

Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.

Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."

Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.

Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.

"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.

You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.

"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."

You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.

"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."

Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.

You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.

"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.

You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...

"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...

You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.

Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.

After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.

Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.

"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."

You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.

Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.

"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."

His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.

Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.

"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.

You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.

You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.

"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."

Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.

You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...

"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.

You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.

Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.

"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."

You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.

"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.

"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?

Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.

"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."

Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.

"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."

Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.

"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered. 

[kyber-crystal]

red thread || jake “hangman” seresin

summary: fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and it’s made no exception for you and hangman. you’ve grown up together; there's not a day that goes by in which you aren't glued to each others' sides. as kids, you promised each other that if you were still single at 30 you'd get married. but when that day finally arrives, you wonder just how much things will change.

words: ~2.3k

warnings: nothing. unless you’re like me and commitment scares you, then yeah lmao. hangman is an absolute gentleman in this though :) biggest TW is my writing...sorry. idk what happened. some slight mentions of angst and injury but nothing graphic :)

a/n: mannn my writing has gone downhill idk how yall other talented writers do it. i wish i could write that well 😭but, i’m proud of this...plotwise, at least! (my fics are doing so bad for some reason while everyone else seems to be blowing up??? idk) btw, the first part of this fic takes place two years before tgm

It was 1:30 a.m, and you couldn’t fall asleep. 

It seemed that Hangman had the same idea as you as he told you to meet him outside the Hard Deck in five. The coastal air and Jake Seresin was the perfect combination to help you unwind, so of course you said yes. 

“There she is,” he grinned as he offered a helping hand. “My favorite fellow insomniac.”

“Nightmares keep you up, Jake?” you teased. “What’s the matter this time?”

“Same as you. Don’t feel like sleeping yet,” Hangman answered. “Can you believe it? We’re awake, and Fanboy and Payback aren’t.”

“Now that’s a first,” you laughed. “Thought I’d never live to see that day, but here we are.”

“We’re making history day by day.”

“You know…sometimes,” you breathed out as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I wonder what it’d be like if we never met.”

“Didn’t you ask that same question fifteen years ago?”

“We were much younger back then. It’s different now.”

“Well, then…I don’t like to imagine it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“It’d be weird. You’ve always been a big part of my life, so to think you almost could’ve not been in it…it’s weird. Uncomfortable, even.”

“Yeah, it is weird…” your voice trailed off as you lingered on the thought. You’ve always done everything together. How different would your lives be now if you hadn’t become friends; hadn’t stayed in touch through college? “But don’t be sad, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

Hangman gave you a light punch in the arm. “I’m not complaining.”

“Good.”

“You know, Y/N…there’s one more thing.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hear me out,” he started. “Remember that deal we made when we were kids?”

“The one about helping each other bury a body if needed, or getting married?”

“The second one…I thought the first was a given since the day we met. That’s something all friends are supposed to do for each other, right? Bury bodies, hide their trails…all that good stuff.”

“What about the second one?”

“We’re turning 30 soon,” he recounted. Any and all traces of cockiness were completely wiped off his face. “And we said that if we’re both still single by the time our 30th birthdays roll around, we’d get married.”

You smiled as you revisited the memory: wide-eyed and curious, and so blissfully unaware with the only worry in the world was whether you’d grow up together or not. “You still remembered all that?”

“Of course I did. You still in, or what?”

“I guess so…I mean, what else do I have to lose?”

The two of you fall back into your comfortable silence, and he wraps you up into his arms. 

TWO YEARS LATER

As usual, the base is busy and rather chaotic: day after day you’re busy filing reports and training. This causes you to become prone to forgetting the littler things in your life, so you assign Bob to keep track of them for you. He had the best memory of anyone you knew—that man kept mental notes of everything. 

“What do I have to do today, Floyd? Any events…”

“Uhhh…” Bob thought for a moment as you took a long drink of water. “Dinner with Phoenix. Do laundry. Don’t get yelled at by Cyclone for the 19th time (You’re only one point behind Bradshaw, he’s at 20). Grocery shopping. And most importantly…yours’ and Hangman’s birthday.”

“Oh, shit, I completely forgot,” you swore under your breath. “How could I forget…”

“You have some time, so don’t worry. Five days.”

“Only five days?” your eyes widened. “I have to run through four more simulations over the next two. I can’t plan everything in the remaining three.”

“If you pay Garcia in Doordash deliveries, he’ll help out. You know he minored in art.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”

After you finish your final exercise that week, you pass out, but luckily, Hangman’s right there to catch you so you don’t get a concussion. Bless that man—he always seemed to be around wherever you went and you were very grateful for it. 

You were delirious and couldn’t walk straight, so as much as you claimed you were okay, he wouldn’t believe you. 

“I’m taking you home because you’re in no condition to be wandering around by yourself. The birthday planning can wait. You’ve tired yourself out enough as it is and you don’t want to make things worse.” So you let him help you get into his car, then drive you home and lead you inside. Then, he forced you to go upstairs to take a hot shower and relax while he cooked up dinner for you. 

Though Hangman admired your determined spirit, it scared the hell out of him because you wouldn’t know when to stop yourself. 

“I got that from you though! Who’s the one I spend the most time around?” you’d claim in response to that  argument. You weren’t wrong—it was a quality you picked up from him many years ago.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast and jam, which lessens the tension in your shoulders right away. Amidst the early morning light drifting through the windows he stands out like a priceless work of art in a museum. You struggle to tear your eyes off him. 

Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you rested your chin on his shoulder and exhaled. “Hey.”

“Morning. You sleep okay? How’s that headache of yours?”

“I’m alright.” You closed your eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon sugar. “This smells nice.”

If Hangman was tired, you couldn’t tell. “Woke up at 6:30 to relearn the recipe for you. It’s been a while, it took three burnt batches to get the hang of things.”

“You woke up an hour early to cook for me?” 

“Why else? Of course I did,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

You sat down at the kitchen island together and ate your breakfast in silence. Something about this moment feels more domestic than all the others you’ve shared in the past, and you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of eternity like this...

“Y/N, there’s some honey on your chin.”

You blinked, trying to find it. “Where?”

“Hold on a sec.” Hangman took his napkin and rubbed gently at the corner of your lip to wipe it off. For a brief moment, you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. You stayed as still as possible. “There.”

If anyone looked in from the outside, it was another simple day in the life of a longtime couple. But for you and Jake, it’s always been like this. Showing up at each others’ place wasn’t unusual for either of you; if anything, it was quite normal. 

“...Thanks.”

“Yeah. You got any ideas in mind? For the big day.”

“Whatever you want is what I want.”

“Funny enough, that’s what I was about to tell you,” he replied.” 

You locked eyes with each other and laughed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we will.”

Less than three days until everything as you knew it would change forever...if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified. What if he changed his mind and left you in the dust, all alone? You weren’t ready to face the cold truth. 

Hangman offered a simple celebration: food and drinks at the Hard Deck with the crew, then some karaoke if you were up for it after. He starts it off by serenading you at the bar, reaching a hand out to you as he sang your favorite Billy Joel track. You let him lead you out to the dance floor and spin you around, and he’s equal parts addicting as he is entertaining. 

Thirty candles, and you agree on blowing out fifteen each—somehow, by some miracle, you manage to do exactly that, and it’s perfect. Then Fanboy yells that he and Rooster want a rematch with you in Just Dance…so you go at it for two hours straight, until sweat is dripping down your face and your sweater grows hot. 

You’re burnt out, and he can see the look in your eyes as you step aside to let Phoenix play. “You want to head out? There’s something I want to show you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He gives Maverick a look, and the captain shoots him a subtle nod in return. He takes this as his signal to put his hand on the small of your back and lead you out the door. 

You can’t help but laugh a little as you get outside. “Is this Mav’s motorcycle?”

“No…” Hangman shifts from foot to foot, feigning cluelessness. 

“Did you steal it?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s his, isn’t it.”

“Look, he let me borrow it for the night. It’s not stealing if he says it’s okay…besides, he never noticed when I did steal from him last week—”

“What did you—do you even have a motorcycle license?”

“Got it a year ago. I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take my best girl on a ride someday, so who knows if it’ll come in handy’. So here we are now.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Alright, now come on.” He swung his leg over the side and motioned for you to sit behind him. The cushion was not in fact, cushiony, and you found yourself growing colder by the second.

The bike burst forward without warning. You let out a small yelp and immediately wrapped your arms around Hangman’s waist—which was ridiculously firm…had he been working out more lately?—as you went speeding down the road. 

“If I die, I’m gonna kill you and haunt you in your sleep,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “Even in death, I’ll stick to you always.”

“That sounds both morbid and weirdly romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Several minutes later you found yourselves by the cliffs, standing high over the ocean, and deja vu hits almost right away. After we go on this make up date, he had said, I’m going to find that guy who messed you up and mess him up. Then we’re going to go home, I’ll let you wear any of my sweatshirts you want, and we’ll watch true crime. One where someone like that jerk dies. Okay? Okay.

You’re miles away from Top Gun, miles away from your jet and your uniform and everything you’ve ever known, but you’ve never felt more at home than now. It’s in this moment in which you realize all you really need in the world is Jake, the sky above you, and the sea below you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he’s getting fidgety. He can’t stop stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets or running them through his hair—he’s restless. The action takes you by surprise a bit. 

“Why are you all tensed up?” you questioned. “It’s just me and a nice sunset. We’ve done things like this many times.”

“But it’s not just you and a sunset,” he explained. “I’m supposed to be asking you the most important question of our lives. That’s a big deal, sweetheart.”

Your heart spluttered to a stop. “Are you…”

“Let me finish,” Jake cut in. “If you could be quiet for a few minutes…that would help. I’m nervous.”

“Jake Seresin, nervous?” you teased. “That’s a first.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice…for now.”

“I haven’t slept at all in the past week. I went to eleven different jewelry stores around San Diego but nothing seemed to scream ‘Y/N’. So, I decided to take a trip out of state.” He cleared his throat, and reached into his jacket pocket. You saw his hand shake as he did so. “Out of the country. That mini mission I went on while you were training? I was in Canada. Victoria, to be specific. Maverick and Rooster came along to help out.”

Now in his hand was a small velvet box, and inside was the most breathtaking ring you’d ever seen. “Diamond and ruby. They don’t sell plain red strings for rings…so I had them design this. The red thread of fate…the one that brought you into my life. We were kids when we promised to spend our lives together, if circumstances permitted. And I know we might’ve been young, but I’d be lying if I said I could imagine myself with someone that wasn’t you. There was a part of me that wished you wouldn’t find anyone before this day came along. It’s you, Y/N. It always has been.

“I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to give you a long, cheesy speech about divine power and soulmates. But I’m going to tell you this: you’re my forever, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s getting cold out so I’ll cut to the chase: what I’m saying here is that I’m asking you to marry me.”

The world fell silent as you replied with a shaky nod, holding out a trembling hand as Jake slid the golden band onto your ring finger. Neither of you made a sound, and you swore you felt time stop and the ground crack wide open beneath your feet.

tags, including those who may be interested: @callsignbarb @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @dilfsandtherapy @purelyfiction @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @newlibrary @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @thisismypointofview @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @lunamooncole @coastingline @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @midnightdevotion @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @cosm1cfae @tallrock35 @uwiuwi @elenavampire21 @aerangi @hoedameronsworld @whotfatemywaffles @littlebadariell

[supernovafics]

requesting for the ill be there for you universe! the kids are coming over so steve and r plan a lil dinner party… well they make the dinner together… and its just a little too domestic…. bonus if they end up dancing to some silly song on the radio because arent we all a sucker for dancing in the kitchen 😭😭😭😭😭 the kids walk in on them and are like 🤨🤨 those two need to get together now so baddddddddddd

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: explicit language

summary: in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group 

author's note: thank u for the request !! happy new year<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

Steve heard the knock on the door first; you were way too engrossed in singing along to the song that was loudly playing to notice the sound. 

He maneuvered around you in the kitchen to go answer the door as you took a quick peek in the oven to check on the lasagnas. 

It was your idea to have this “New Year’s dinner” at the apartment— since you and Steve had been sick during the holidays and couldn’t see anyone, this was to make up for that— and Steve agreed. Of course, Robin and Eddie said that they would come, and then the kids were an immediate yes as well. 

Even though your and Steve’s collective cooking skills were not the best, you both still wanted to attempt and cook something for everyone, instead of simply ordering a couple of pizzas or takeout from some place. So, you got a lasagna recipe from Miss Johnson that she promised was very basic and couldn’t really be messed up; and so far, she’d been right. Although you did initially have to remake the sauce because of a mess up that you fully blamed on Steve and he fully blamed on you. But, after that, everything else luckily went fine. 

When Steve opened the door and you looked over to see everyone bounding into the apartment, it was then that you remembered just how big the friend group was— you could only imagine what that elevator ride up to the apartment had been like. 

“Is this The Breakfast Club soundtrack?” Robin asked, laughing as she slipped off her coat.

“Yes,” Steve answered. “This is what I’ve been subjected to for the past week.”

You immediately rolled your eyes at his words, which you somehow managed to hear over the loud music. “Oh, shut up, you were just singing along to the last song with me.”

“There’s only some truth to that,” He said as he walked over to the record player to turn the music down a bit. 

Everyone settled at the dining table that Steve’s mom bought for you two for the Thanksgiving dinner that you’d been forced to have here with your parents— that was still somehow a memory that lingered harshly in the back of your mind, like most interactions with your parents did. The table was only meant to fit six people, so the desk chairs that normally sat in your bedrooms were pulled out and placed at the table, and then two foldable chairs were borrowed from your other next door neighbor; this guy in his mid-sixties who would have weekly poker nights with his friends. You would continuously joke around with Steve and tell him that he should join in on the poker nights. In response, he’d always simply roll his eyes at you because you knew that he was bad at poker and he’d also rather not spend his Tuesday nights with random old men. 

Mike walked over to you and handed you a tupperware full of what you could tell were gingerbread cookies. “Since you missed the Christmas party, my mom wanted me to give these to you.”

You immediately smiled. “Holy shit, God bless that woman. Please tell her I said thank you.” 

He nodded at that and then went over to the table, sitting down next to El. 

Steve went back over to where you were in the kitchen and started reaching for the tupperware, but you immediately shooed his hand away. When he simply pouted at you, you rolled your eyes and then opened it so that he could grab a cookie, which he did and then broke it in half so that he could give a piece of it to you. 

“Is it just me or have they been acting extra old married couple lately?” Dustin asked, looking away from the interaction that just happened. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Max answered almost immediately and pretty much everyone else simply nodded in agreement.

Neither you nor Steve were paying any attention to the conversation that was currently taking place barely ten feet away from you; instead you both were focused on finishing up the food. You were pulling one of the lasagnas out of the oven and Steve was grabbing the other before putting the store bought garlic bread in the oven— you both had figured that if the lasagna did end up turning out bad, there would at least be bread that neither of you had a hand in making to somewhat save the day. 

“I fully believe that this will be the year that they finally get together,” Lucas said, sounding very certain.

Robin shook her head at that. “No way. If they were gonna date, it would’ve happened already. Years ago, probably.”

She thought back to this past Halloween where you and Steve were dressed up in your Batman and Robin costume, and at some point during the night he ended up giving you a piggyback ride while you all were walking to some party, and she and Vickie were trailing a bit behind the two of you. She thought about how certain she had felt when answering Vickie’s question about if you two had ever dated. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.” For the most part, that still felt entirely true. Even though it would’ve made complete sense if something happened, it still didn’t seem necessarily “possible” at this point— it felt like such a far-fetched idea.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Rob on this one. I don’t think they’ll ever actually get together,” Eddie said and then started laughing a bit as he said his next words. “Or it’ll happen twenty years down the road after they’ve both been married to other people and then divorced, and then they’ll finally realize that all they needed and wanted was each other.”

“Wow, that sounds like the most depressing movie ever,” Will told him. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be that sad since they would end up together in the end,” El said with a small shrug.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”  

“Okay, yeah, maybe that could happen, but I don’t think it would take that long anymore because things are so different now,” Dustin said. “They’re living together, they have a child together.” He gestured to Harold the Hamster’s cage that sat on the coffee table in the living room. “They’re practically already a couple. It’s inevitable now. Soon they’ll be married and there will be actual children involved, not just Harold.”

Robin rolled her eyes at his final statement. “They’re best friends. They’ve known each for like ten years.” 

“Yeah, which is just another reason why they’re definitely gonna end up together,” Lucas said. “Also, I can’t even remember the last time either of them went on a date, and Steve usually always talks about his dates.” 

“Actually, he was just going out with that girl last month,” Will chimed in. “Vanessa or something?”  

“And that ultimately led nowhere,” Max reminded him. 

Mike took a brief look over at you and Steve to make sure that you two still weren’t listening to the current conversation. “Okay, I have an idea. We should make this a bet. We each say when we think they’ll get together, and if it does end up happening we all give whoever got it right or was the closest five bucks.”

Eddie laughed before nodding. “I actually kind of like that idea.” 

“It’s a great idea,” Dustin said with a nod, and it didn’t necessarily surprise anyone when he pulled out a small notebook and pen out of his pocket because it somehow made sense that he would be the one to bring a notebook and pen to a dinner party; he was probably prepared for anything. 

He started off by saying February– because even though it was only a month away, it was in fact, the month of love— and then everyone started going around the table saying their guesses. Lucas said April, Max and El both said March, Mike said July, Will said August, Robin said a very certain “Never,” and Eddie finished by saying a playful and only slightly serious, “Twenty years.”

It was almost comical how oblivious you and Steve were to what was happening not that far away from you both. Instead, your attention was on grabbing enough silverware for everyone since the plates were already set on the table and Steve was pulling out some cups. 

“I think both of our moms would scold us for not setting everything out before they came,” You told Steve, laughing a bit.

“Very true. I guess our years of being forced to eat at fancy restaurants with them have truly taught us nothing,” He joked back and you smiled at that as you both walked over to the dining table. “We’re gonna bring over the lasagna in a second. What are you guys talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Eddie said casually as Dustin slipped his notebook back into his pocket, which was a subtle action that neither of you noticed. “Just some movie.”

Once everything was set on the table, you two went back to the kitchen to grab the lasagnas.

“The bread will be done in a couple minutes, so if the lasagna sucks we’ll eat that,” You said as you sat down in one of the two empty chairs left, which just so happened to be your desk chair. “Also, if it sucks, blame Steve, not me.”

He shook his head as he rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side before taking a seat in the other empty chair on the opposite side of the table. “If it sucks, blame both of us because this was a very mutual effort.”

Robin nodded. “Okay, got it. If this turns out to be the worst meal all of us have ever eaten we’ll make sure to hate both of you equally and not talk to either of you for at least a week.”

Luckily, the lasagna actually turned out pretty great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)