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erwinsvow · 4 months

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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

#eeeeeee!!!! thoughts????#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx

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localkiss · 3 months

Text

Princess Sprinkles!

Vendetta Chris Redfield x fem reader!

cw: dd/lg, creampie, squirting (guys idk how squirting feels like....), multiple orgasms (reader), fingering, pet names, praise kink, oral fixation (reader obv), light mentions of breeding, soft dom!Chris!!, afab terms used, size kink ish.., Chris being silly, Chris being a lil mean one time, and some fluff :3 !! — Lmk if I missed anything.

wc: 2005 !! (🤭 birth year go crazyy LOL!)

notes: if you don't like ddlg just um. Idk don't read 💀!! I fr try not to make the reader teeny tiny but like dude Chris is huge asf.. size kink go brrr 🧎🏻‍♀️! I'll be making reader a lil squishy from now on bc I'm not skinny either ☝🏻.Also I used to watch the Bratz babyz movie on repeat sm that the disc got ruined 😭😭 soo.. yes that part is directly from yours truly! Not proof read 😵‍💫

tags: @argreion, @rigorwhoring bc ily guys 😇!!

"Daddy!" You squeal as soon as Chris picks you up and spins you around. Making your fluffy mini pleated skirt twirl upwards.

Chris hoists your pretty body over his shoulders and pats you on the butt, practically skipping towards your shared bedroom. It looks like someone dumped all the squishmallows possible into the master bedroom. He can't help but think of you every time he sees a stuffed animal. Shits rooted in his brain. Stuffies = his angel!

Yeah, he might have to fight with them to make room for himself, but he wouldn't trade it for any other way. He doesn't actually fight them, knowing you'd throw a hissy fit and say "Hate daddy! Forever 'n ever!" Chris's heart shatters like glass whenever you say that.

He's grown softer because of you and those little threats of yours make his heart drop down to the core of the Earth. Would he admit it to team Alpha? No. Never in a million years. But they've got eyes and ears, they're not Patrick Star. Dumb and living under a rock.

Lately he's been covered in hickeys and cute little doodles that're supposed to be like tattoos by yours truly. Goes to work and gets teased by his squad, telling him how you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger. How much you've changed him, for the better. He always shrugs them off, putting them back to work.

You for sure made Chris cut back on smoking a fuck ton. Constantly crying about how the stench will ruin your stuffies and the coat the walls of the house with a film. You're right, that's for sure. And the fact that second hand smoke is even worse is what clicks it into his head for him. His baby. His sweetheart, could end up dying because of his stupid ass habits.

Chris has lost too many of his men because of his habits. Too many good men. You are his savior. He pounds away the guilt into your needy little cunt. Constantly craving him. Needing him. Loving him. Honest to God, he needs that more than anything in this lifetime.

"Sweetheart," he sighs and sets you down onto the bed. "I missed you. Whatcha been up to?"

"Slept 'n colored and um... Ate some snackies, watch movie, 'n had lotsa juice!" You mumble, eyes glancing around the entire room. Using your hands to talk, as your words get slurred when you're in this state of mind.

Chris presses a faint kiss to your temple and noses down to the underside of your ear. Carefully holding the back of your head with his hand. He gives you more kisses and blows raspberries into your ear, making you squeal and swat at him.

"That's good baby. Glad you had a productive day." Chris smiles at you lovingly.

Your heart then swoons, making you feel all mushy inside. Praise gets him everything from you. Just like you crying out for daddy gets you everything from him!

He lazily starts to unbuckle his belt, pulling it through the loops. Setting it down on the bedside table with a thud. He starts to undo his fly, pushing his pants all the way down, kicking out of them.

Only dressed in his boxers and shirt, he engulfs you with a hug. Nuzzling into your neck, feeling your hands grab ahold of his shirt.

"Daddy?"

"Just recharging honey, hold on." His voice is deep and gruffy, sending chills up your spine.

You lay there, body buzzing with warmth as his figure presses you into the mattress. His hips shift and move against yours, causing you to gasp.

Thighs squeezing against his fit waist and he sighs into your neck. "Daddy's not charge. He excited..." Your fingers tug on his shirt and he sits up.

"Off?" Pointing to his shirt and you clumsily remove your own shirt and skirt. Now both of you are only in your underwear. Well, you still have your white thigh highs on, but still.

He presses your thighs up to your chest and settles in the middle as best as he can. Feeling his skin on your skin feels like heaven. Makes your panties wet, which he's noticed but doesn't want to say anything about it. Knowing you get all shy and embarrassed when he points things out like that. He likes it. Thinks it's cute that you want skin ship.

"So pretty baby," he pushes his hips forward. His cock catching onto your clit with each slow roll. "Pretty pussy, pretty tits. Pretty girl. My pretty girl."

Chris leans back and gets rid of his boxers. Pulling your panties up to slip his cock between your folds. Laying back down on top of you. Humping you instead of fucking you.

You can't complain, his tip his pressing against your clit nicely. Your hips rolling up to meet his and his dick slips inside.

He bottoms out immediately with a growl. "Baby. Did I say you could put it in?" Chastising you with a rough thrust, acting like it's your fault his dick slipped inside of your tiny hole.

"Daddy, didn't mean to. Not m'fault," you whine out, kicking your legs.

"S'okay. Daddy will make it all better." Chris presses a kiss to your forehead and acts like he's going to pull it out. Only to harshly thrust it back into you. "Fuck, princess. She's not wanting to let me go. You hear her crying for me?"

Moaning, you dig your nails into his back, "Daddy, daddy, never leave," you start babbling already.

He groans and rabbits his hips, making the bed rock against the wall.

"Wait, daddy, stuffies no want look, turn," you try to speak as he continues to fuck you like he hates you.

"Shit, okay baby. Hold on," he grunts and turns them around as best as he can. "Better now?"

You nod and go in for a kiss and he meets you halfway. Drooling into your mouth and your tongues swirl together before you suck on his. Moaning as he drives himself deeper inside of you. Squelching sounds and skin on skin echoing in the bedroom. Surely you guys won't get a noise complaint this time!

He spits into your mouth and smears it all over your lips with his thumb, pushing it into your mouth. Who needs a pacifier when you've got daddy's thumb?

Watching your eyes flutter shut and your lips wrapping around his thumb, it sets him off. His other hand driving down between you both and rubbing harshly at your puffy nub.

Biting down, you furrow your eyebrows. Breathing quickly and moaning softly. "Close," you hum around his digit. Sucking on it as you get closer and closer.

Chris's dick hits a special spot inside of you and your body shakes underneath him. Pussy trying to push out his cock as a clear liquid shoots out of you.

"Goddamn, baby, squirting on me, mmhh—fuck..." His hips falter and he dumps his cum inside of you. Resting his body on you, burying you into the bed. Making sure his cum never leaves you.

Chris pulls his thumb out of your mouth and kisses you feverishly. "Putting a baby in you, s'that alright princess?" Your pussy agrees by clenching around his thickness.

But he's acting like you've got a choice, since he's already done the deed. He pulls you up into his arms and you guys slowly make your way to the bath. Still connected and full.

Keeping you in his arms, he reaches down to turn on the water and put in the plug. You giggle and some of his cum starts to spurt out and drip down his balls. He settles in the tub with you on his lap, grabbing the soap to fill it with bubbles.

Chris slowly lifts you off of his length and sets you between his legs. Back pressed against his hairy chest. While his cum dribbles out of you.

His fingers make their way down to your sensitive cunt and slowly dips them inside. "Shh, I know baby," pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you whine and claw weakly at his forearms. The other one is keeping you pressed against him.

"Daddy's helping you baby," he starts to curl his fingers and your legs shake. Clearly overstimulated from earlier. But Chris starts to be a bit greedy, smacking his palm against your pretty little pearl.

Throwing your head back against his shoulder, he coaxes you into another orgasm. With the disguise of helping you get his cum out. If anything, he's trying to fuck it back into. Serious about putting a mini him or you inside of your tummy.

"Baby, almost there. Y'got it princess.. mmh.. cum one more time for daddy? Promise I'll clean you up and get us some donuts with sprinkles on 'em, just the way you like." Man, he's even bribing you! Daddy knows what you really want right now. So you whimper in response.

"Daddy, mmhhff... Daddy oh god! Please, please, please!" Your heels dig into the tub as the water fills it. His lips sucking and biting into your neck is what makes you cream around his digits.

Body convulsing and breath raggedy and higher as you come down from your second high of the night. Chris grabs your face and kisses you all over, mumbling praises into your skin. "Good girl, daddy's so proud of you."

Then, he takes his time washing you off, letting you play with the rubber duckies and splashing water onto him. Putting bubbles on his beard and making one for yourself.

"I daddy! See?" You pout and furrow your eyebrows, taking a drag of an imaginary cigarette. Chris rolls his brown eyes and takes the imaginary cigarette and puts it out.

"Babies can't do that stuff, remember? Only daddies can do that, silly baby girl." He wipes the bubbles off of your face and his, nibbling on your earlobe. Making chewing noises, "Om nom nom, my baby tastes so yummy!"

You squeal and press your face into your shoulder. "Daddy! Got wash so we can eat nummy donut! Donut sprinkle!"

He hums and gets to work. Gently washing your back and hair as you wash your front side and down to your toes. Chris hauls you up and he turns on the shower to wash your hair and his. God knows he needs this shower after training his new squad mates today.

Chris washes his own figure as you cup the water in your tiny hands and splash it up in the air. Watching you pretend you have powers as the water runs down your arms and to the tips of your fingers.

"Alright princess. Let's go get some sprinkled donuts," he pats your heart shaped ass with a chuckle. Wrapping you in a fuzzy towel, he gets to work drying you off. It reminds you of that Bratz babyz movie. Sure reminds him of it too. From how often you guys watched it, the CD stopped working and you threw a fit.

So of course, he bought a couple more, just in case. It's not like he doesn't have the money for it. So why not keep his baby sated with something so simple as a 2000s movie? He even bought you some Bratz dolls and monster high ones. Likes how you squeal and jump around in excitement every time he buys you something so simple as a doll. Makes him happy.

"Princess sprinkles and daddy sprinkles! Getting donut sprinkles! Sprinkles, sprinkles, sprinkles!" You laugh as he puts on your blue matching cinnamoroll pajamas that he spent fifty dollars on. Worth it in his opinion. Looks so cute on you, he can't help but press kisses all over your cheeks.

"Alright, alright, princess sprinkles. Let's go get in the car. Daddy'll buy you all the chocolate sprinkled donuts there is at the bakery." Chris's heart thumps in his chest. Yeah, there's a sprinkled shaped hole with a sprinkle version of you in his heart.

#resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #chris redfield smut #chris redfield x reader #chris resident evil #resident evil chris #chris smut #chris redfield #resident evil vendetta #resident evil fanfiction #fanfiction #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy smut #localkiss

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months

Text

Satisfaction

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader x Urban Wyatt x Sunni

Word Count: ~4K

Warnings: Pretty much all of them (kissing, smut including intercourse, foursome, male and female masturbation, use of sex toys, oral (male receiving), fingering, anal, domination/submission. All actions are consensual.

As always DNI if under 18 (read at your own discretion, you are responsible for the content you interact with)

Author's Notes: "This chick got a lil' Porsche body, I might let the bro test-drive it" I use "daddy" in this. I don't wanna hear it; I'm already ashamed. Not using my tag list in case there are people who are not interested in engaging with this content.

Jack didn’t like sharing. If it belonged to him, he reasoned, he should be the only one to enjoy it. While it started out with toys on the playground, and snacks in the cafeteria, it quickly became his mantra for life. If he wanted it, he got it, it belonged to him. You considered yourself to be an independent woman in every respect except in the bedroom. In there, between the confines of four walls and silk sheets, you belonged to him.

More importantly, your pussy belonged to him.

You only moaned for Jack.

You only cried out Jack’s name.

You only reached your peak when he allowed you to.

And God, were you a willing participant in his domination.

But still, you wanted more. No, you needed more. There were only so many times you could come around Jack’s cock before it became mundane, routine.

At first Jack was vehemently against adding anything beyond a couple of toys and new positions to your sex life. His ego took a hit every time he watched your legs shake for some silicone model, there was no way he was going to watch someone else take what belonged to him. Still, eager to please you, he agreed to inviting Urban into your bedroom, and he couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about watching someone else ruin you, make you writhe and squirm as you came, coming completely undone, that turned him on. At the end of the night, no matter who had been deep inside of you, you were still coming home to him. You still belonged to him.

What was supposed to be a one-time thing, quickly became standard, anything to satisfy Jack’s voyeuristic tendencies. Your threesomes fulfilled something deep inside of you as well. You loved Jack, no question about that, but opening this door to your relationship had created a need in you that could never be satiated. Like you said: you needed more.

When you suggested a foursome, Jack was interested.

The two of you agreed to the terms. First, Urban would be there of course; he knew his place and Jack wasn’t threatened by him. Second, Jack got to choose the other person that joined you. Honestly, you didn’t care. It could have been anyone as long as they knew how to fuck. You really were easy to please. Third, you could choose the location. Jack wanted you to feel safe and in control, so he’d go wherever you wanted.

Vegas seemed as good a place as any. The city of sin was the perfect backdrop to what was sure to be a memorable night. You could hear the roar of the strip through the thick walls as you made your way down the hallway to the room Jack had booked, key card in hand. You stepped to the side, allowing for an inebriated couple to stumble pass you down the hallway, the stench of alcohol wafting through the air.

You took a deep breath as your knuckles connected with the door, stepping back as it swung open, Jack on the other side. His smile dropped when he took in the sight of you. Wanting to forego any difficulties removing your clothes mid coitus, you opted for a simple t-shirt and jeans looks, sans any bra or underwear, your perky nipples poking through the thin white fabric. A quick moment of regret flashed over Jack’s mind when he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to get to touch your breasts tonight, but you pushed past him, forcing him to snap out of it. He pulled at your wrist, making you stumble back into him, his lips grazing your ear. “Remember who you belong to.” The words were as much a warning as they were a reminder.

The room was spacious, a king size bed against the longest wall with the standard hotel room amenities. Urban was seated on the couch against the window, a cloud of smoke draping a haze on the room. He nodded in your direction, leaning back against the leather cushions. You heard the hotel room door slam behind you before feeling Jack at your back, his hardened bulge pressing into your ass.

Jack’s calloused hands felt like rope as they wrapped around your waist, tugging against your bare skin as he dug the pads of his fingers into your stomach. He was already trying to unbutton your jeans, always eager to get right to work. You pushed his hands away, placing them back on your waist. As much as you would love to feel him stretching you out right now, your focus was on something or someone more intriguing.

“Do you remember our safe word?”

“Don’t stop?”, you shot back, following with a dry laugh, your eyes focused on the lanky brunette sitting in the corner of the room. Jack pushed your hair from your shoulder, your head unconsciously tipping to the side as he latched onto your neck, his grip tightening on you. “That mouth is gonna get you in trouble tonight”, he purred, his hot breath on the back of your neck making you shiver.

“Ya promise?”

You couldn’t even enjoy your quip, Jack quickly punishing you by reaching around to grab at your covered mound, digging his fingernails into your delicate flesh. You groaned out at the feeling, the mixture of pleasure and pain as he grazed your clit overwhelming. “Behave. If you’re good for me and my friends, I promise it will be worth your while.” You nodded, a quiet agreement to be on your best behavior.

“Did you bring me a gift, Jackie?” You glanced back at Jack as you sauntered over to where the semi-familiar face was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “You shouldn’t have.” You gave him a cocky smile, your words laced with arrogance. Jack chuckled to himself as he sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back on his forearms. “Oh baby, the only present in the room is you.”

Your eyes darkened as you turned your focus back to the guest. “Sunni, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” He edged out after clearing his throat, nervously running his hands back and forth over his jeans. You mounted his lap, forcing him to look up at you in close proximity. “Relax. You don’t look like you’re having fun.” You ran your hands through his hair, grinding against his erection. You traced the shape of his mouth with your thumb nail before leaning down to crash lips, Sunni meeting you halfway with a forceful kiss. You allow his tongue to press between your lips, entering your mouth. You tasted a tinge of peppermint in his saliva as your tongues intwined.

“That’s enough.” Jack calls out, his voice a low growl. You pulled back immediately, Sunni’s lower lip between your teeth. You weren’t afraid to push your luck with Jack, but you knew better than to piss him off.

You swung your leg off of Sunni’s lap, and made your way to the bed, taking a seat next to Jack. “Did you tell them about the rules?” You raked your fingers through his curls, grasping at the hair at the back of his neck. “Urban already knows the rules.” He slips his hand down the front of your jeans, his fingers just reaching your clit, his eyes tracing your expression as you resist the impulse to moan out. You gasp, jerking his head back. “What about your friend over there?” You tip your head in Sunni’s direction. Without even looking in his direction, Jack’s focus still on circling your aching bud, he layed out the ground rules for play.

“If she wants to stop, you stop, no questions, no hesitation. The safe word is “howdy”.” That earned a chuckle from Urban in the corner. ‘How the hell did you end up on “howdy?” He asked, finishing off his blunt. “Seeing Jack in that cowboy hat at the White Party inspired me.” You answered, pushing Jack’s hand further down the front of your jeans. You rolled your hips, matching the circles of his fingers, your core tightening. “I know you’re ready baby, but I’ve got a surprise for you.” You rolled your eyes as he pulled away, getting up and walking over to his duffle bag. He turned back to you, a large black box in his hands. “Take your jeans off”, he ordered, beginning to open the package. You were quick to oblige his command, kicking your jeans off across the floor. You quickly realized what it was, your hips bucking instinctively.

“Oh my god.” You couldn’t help the words that escaped your lips as you watched him pull the silicone member out of its box, throwing the packaging on the bed. The dildo was a neon purple, and aside from the color, atomically correct. Your eyes widened as you observed the length and girth of the toy, your core tightening at the thought of taking it as deep as possible to the base. “Jack, I’ve never used one this big before. I’m not even sure I could do it.” You gulped, your excitement quickly replaced by nervousness at the thought of being stretched out more than you’d ever been before. “Be a good girl and show Urban and Sunni how good you can ride dick. Give them a taste of what’s to come.” You took the toy out of his hands, laying on your back and spreading your legs wide.

“Such a pretty pussy.” Jack announced to the room as he drug two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. He brushed them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth so you could taste yourself. “C’mon baby, I wanna see you come all over that cock.” Jack pulled his fingers out and backed away from the bed, his gaze never leaving your body. He unbuckled his belt, allowing his pants to drop the floor before he sat down in the chair across the room, springing his hardened cock free from his boxers.

You slid the dildo against your tongue, lubing up the exterior before lowering it down between your legs. You moaned out as you pressed the tip against your entrance, pulling it away after only getting it in a mere inch, the stretch too intense. “It’s not gonna fit”, you whine out, closing your legs.

“I’m gonna help you out. Urban, come over here.” Jack pressed your legs back open as Urban climbed over your head, sitting against the headboard. He lifted you up under your arms, pulling you to lay against his chest, while Jack pressed a knee into the bed, settling himself between your legs. Your breath hitches as he slides one finger into your pussy, pushing past the second knuckle. “Relax, baby.” He pushes a second finger past your entrance hooking his fingers to press against your cushiony ceiling. You writhe on the bed, rolling your hips as he pumps his digits in and out of you. “Oh fuck, faster Jack.” He quickens his pace while Urban caresses your breasts, tweaking your nipples, adding to your stimulation. “Such a good girl.” Urban’s words help to coax your orgasm out of you, as you feel the coil in your stomach tightening, the urge to climax becoming increasingly difficult to hold back.

You barely feel Jack replace his fingers with the toy, too lost in chasing your release. It fits like a glove, your pelvic muscles much more relaxed than before. Just as you feel yourself about to cum, Jack pulls out, chuckling at the sight of you squirming beneath him. You whine at the loss of fullness in your core, giving Jack a pitiful look. “Why did you stop?”, you ask, breathless.

“You’re a big girl, I want you to finish yourself off. On your knees.”

You sit up, propping yourself up on your feet, holding the base of the silicone member as you maneuver down slowly, feeling every inch of the toy until you’ve bottomed out. “Oh shit.” You can’t help the moans escaping your lips as you begin to move up and down, quickly adjusting to the size again. You can hear grunts coming from Jack and Sunni as they stroke themselves, getting off to the sight in front of them. Urban has the perfect view of the dildo sliding in and out of your squelching pussy, taking it all the way down with each bounce. “I can’t wait to fuck you”, Urban edges out between gritted teeth while he rubs the head of his cock, precum leaking from between his fingers. “I want you. This is nothing like the real thing.” You gave him a pouty lip, moving your hand down to draw circles around your sensitive clit.

You bite into your bottom lip, throwing your head back as you feel yourself orgasm, leaning back to steady yourself on your haunches as you slow your hips. Your thighs ache as you shift to your knees, looking over your shoulder at Sunni as he comes undone in his hand, his eyes glazing over with lust. You slow your movements, before pulling the toy all the way out, lapping up the mess you made on the dildo. Jack walks over to you, grabbing your face between his hand, kissing you forcefully. You chase the intensity when he pulls away.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl. Daddy’s proud of you.” Your cheeks flush at his praises, your wetness dripping down your inner thigh at the thought of pleasing him. He gently pushed you back on to the bed, crawling on top of you, his chain dangling in your face.

“I want you Jack, fuck me please.” Your eyes were pleading as your legs instinctively opened for him. “God, you’re so needy”, he chuckled, his eyes darkening as they roamed your body. “You want daddy to fuck you, make you scream my name?” You shook your head fervently as you grabbed at his shirt, the fabric bundled in your fists. “I don’t think they’re done with you yet. I want to be the last cock in your tight pussy tonight.”

You closed your eyes, catching your breath as you heard movement around your head and at your feet. “Get on your knees for me, baby.” The apprehension in Sunni’s voice was replaced with lust after watching you put on a show. You flipped over, pressing your hands and knees into the mattress. You felt Sunni climb onto the bed behind you, Urban shuffling to lay in front of you. Jack was still seated in the same seat, this time leaning forward as he watched closely.

You let out a sharp breath as you felt Sunni line up at your entrance, Urban laying underneath you, his cock grazing against your lips as you take him into your mouth, drawing circles around his tip with your tongue. Your moans are muffled as Sunni drills into you, pulling your hips toward him with each thrust, the sound of his testicles slapping against your thigh the loudest sound in the room. “Oh fuck, faster.” You take a breath before taking Urban’s cock down your throat, dragging it against your tongue as you move your head up and down. He bunches your hair at the nape of your neck, guiding your head. “That’s it. Fuck.” He grunts out, pushing your head down until your lips touch the base of his dick. He thrusts his hips up into your mouth, tears brimming in your eyelashes as you dig your nails into his thighs.

You struggle to keep pace, as Sunni increases the speed of his hips, you’re not even able to focus, letting Urban’s cock fall from your lips. He continues to stroke himself, continuing to build his orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m so close to coming”, you cry out, clenching down hard around his cock. You can feel the coil in your stomach tightening, the urge to pee growing with every second. Your warning only makes him go faster, his tip hitting your cervix with every drive. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your tits bounce in Urban’s face with each snap of Sunni’s hips, his grunts vibrating through your body. “Oh, shit, oh my god”, You’re not even sure your words make any sense, no more than incoherent grunts and whimpers heard throughout the room.

Sunni’s hips start to stagger, his body going limp above you as he reaches for your shoulders. “You feel so fuckin’ good, angel, do you want me to fill you up?” You lazily nod your head, too focused on your own release, reaching down to frantically rub your clit. He raked his fingernails down your back as he released his hot ropes into you, pushing his cock further into your pussy as he finished.

Your mouth hangs open as the coil snaps, your moan guttural and animalistic as you release around his cock, your wetness drenching him and the sheets below. You fall to the side, your body spasming, your eyes rolling back in your head as you work your way down from your peak. Your chest heaves with each breath as you start to relax again, your pelvic muscles pulsing.

“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ soaked me.” Sunni smirked, pulling up and buttoning his jeans. “Jack, you said she was good, but you didn’t say she was that good.” Jack was quiet, adjusting in his seat. You were surprised by his lack of reaction. Usually by this point he was all over you, his hunger for you boiling over. This time he was quiet and patient, waiting his turn like he had all the time in the world. He gave you a small smile when you made eye contact with him, nodding to question whether you were okay. You returned his nod with your own, looking up at the ceiling as you ran your hands over your thighs.

“I need you to do that one more time for me, babe.” Urban moves off the bed, making his way to stand above you. He grunts as he pulls you by the thighs to the edge of the bed. You shake your head, letting out a small whimper. “I can’t take anymore, Urb.” You close your legs to him, running your hands through your messy hair, sweat beading on your forehead.

“That’s not the girl I know. She can go all night. I know you can take it. Be a good girl for me and spread your legs.” You tease him, opening slightly, just enough to irritate him. “Spread them more.” His voice is deep as he looks down at you. “On second thought, grab onto the back of your thighs.” You gasp as he pushes your legs towards your shoulders, and you grab onto your fleshy thighs, exposing your vulnerable pussy to him. He wasted no time pushing himself inside of you, making your back arch as he pushed his full length against your walls. “Fuck, you take me so good. I want you to come for me just like you did for Sunni.” You could feel him pull almost all of the way out before thrusting back into you with such force, your lungs emptying each time.

It took mere minutes before you could feel your orgasm building again, this time with more intensity than before, your pussy throbbing, begging for release. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come”, you repeated over and over in between your moans, your eyes shut tight. You gripped the sheets tightly as you orgasmed for the third time that night, drenching Urban’s cock as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good”, he remarked as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper inside of you. He dug his nails into your sides as he released inside of you, slowly pulling away to watch his semen drip from your pussy. “I’ll never get tired of that sight”, he chuckled.

You were in a daze, your muscles fatigued, exhaustion starting to set in. The room was quiet as Urban and Sunni got dressed, Jack still seated. They both sat down, relishing in their lasting high, Urban rolling a fresh blunt to smoke again. “Get out.” Jack’s tone was even, his face deadpan. “Dude, I just started-“

“I said, get out.” His focus was on you, his tone the same.

After the room was empty, Jack moved to lay next to you, pressing kisses onto your bicep. “Are you satisfied baby?” He looked up at you through his lashes. You nodded your head no, a grin slipping on your face. “No? What could you possibly want?”, he teased, chuckling. “You know exactly what I want.” You grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down to you, your lips crashing into a passionate kiss. Your mouths broke briefly for a breath before finding each other again, Jack’s tongue pushing its way deep into your mouth. You were breathless as he pulled away, your eyes closed in pure elation. You fingers gripped onto your waist as he moved his mouth down to your breasts, sucking on your nipples. The sensation ran from your chest to your core as you guided his head. “I still need you, Jack. Nobody compares to you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I want something that no one else gets to have.” He tested the waters, seeing what you were willing to do to please him. His hand fondled your thigh, traveling up to palm your ass. You jumped when you felt one of his fingers press against your back entrance, teasing the muscle. “Fuck, Jack, careful.” Your voice is barely a whisper as you lose your breath again, trying to relax as he pushes his finger deeper. You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He slowly pulls out, pushing you onto your side and inching closer to you so your back is against his chest. “Hold your leg.” He mumbles against your shoulder blade, stroking himself a couple of times, precum leaking from the tip. He rubs his cock against your tight hole, barely pressing inside as a hiss leaves your lips. “Such a good girl. Such a good girl.” His praises almost make up for the uncomfortable pressure you’re feeling. You try to pull away as he pushes deeper inside of you, but he grabs at your hip, holding you down. “Take it all, like a good girl.” You bite into your forearm as you feel him stretch out your hole, taking all of his length. “Oh fuck, Jack. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jack laid still, allowing you to get used to the feeling before he began slowly moving his hips. Your anus was like a vice grip around Jack’s cock, barely allowing him to move in and out. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby. Just for me. You’re tight just for me.” He pushes you forward, forcing you to bend at the waist, changing the angle so he can go deeper. You let out a cry as you feel him bottoming out inside of you. The sound of skin slapping together as your ass hit his pelvis with each thrust, drowned out the sounds of both your moans, Jack’s hips start to stagger as he reached his orgasm, pushing deep inside of you as he came. He leaned his forehead against your back as he caught his breath, staying inside of you until you wriggled free, laying on your stomach.

You feel a rough fabric on your backside as Jack cleans you up, pressing kisses into your back as you start to relax. Your eyelids are heavy as you rest your head on your forearms, starting to drift off to sleep. “C’mere.” You feel Jack reach out behind you, so you roll over, keeping your eyes shut. You tuck into his torso, your cheek rubbing against his chest hair.

"Thank you baby."

"For what?" Jack chuckles, stroking your hair.

"A lot of people wouldn't do this. Thank you for not feeling threatened."

"I can't say I wasn't jealous tonight, but seeing you satisfied turned me on more than you could ever know."

#warning:smut #jackharlow #jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jackman harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow smut

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turtletaubwrites · 9 days

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So... uh... it might be final edit time again... 😬

I am so behind on comments and tags, but I love y'all so much! I swear I'll come up for air soon. I just can't stop. Every time I stop, my brain starts writing more, so I have to go write it down.

The last time I had a big writing spree was for the first half of Numbers Game before the break. This story just owns me, I guess 🤷🏼‍♀️

Part 22 should be up in a few hours!

Below the cut is an update on my mental health in case y'all are concerned (I am okay!! 💜) (cw mental illness, cw bipolar disorder)

Is the writing spree from the ADHD? The Bipolar? The fact that I just really love this story, and am having an amazing time writing it? Or maybe it's the lil fairies in my backyard? Lol, who knows

I monitor these behavior changes to try to spot what my bipolar triggers are, and to mitigate "damage," or to just make sure that my loved ones and I are aware of what might be going on. I've only had one episode since being diagnosed and medicated three years ago.

Starting writing fanfiction in November is how we figured out I was in an episode because it's apparently not normal for someone who hadn't written anything in years to all of a sudden write and post 70k words in three weeks. 🙃🙃🙃

I am a bit concerned with this writing spree, but I'm trying to remember that I am allowed to be happy and enjoy things. I've struggled a lot with my identity, values, passions, and joys since getting this diagnosis. (Afraid that feeling good = bad)

I'll still be monitoring and taking care of me, but honestly, if I am starting another episode, then I'm so grateful that I have this hobby. It's a FREE hobby, where lots of supportive people interact with and enjoy my work, and provide the DOPAMINE.

Compared to the things I would become obsessed with during my pre diagnosis manic episodes, this is incredibly healthy/safe for me.

(For example: dropping out of college to attend a $10,000 hypnosis course that I learned about and signed up for within two weeks to meet their deadline - luckily that impulsive decision ended up working out great for me and got my business going, but yeah 😬😬) (lol, we used the money for our wedding that we still haven't had, and the rest on credit. This is why FREE HOBBY is so important to me, lol. So many other expensive obsessions...)

I don't want to romanticize it, but occasionally I forget that I might be manic, and I just get excited to talk about how into things I am. Please don't romanticize mania!! Even though I lucked out last time, it is often debilitating and life ruining. I'm so excited that I'm writing so much, but I would rather not be manic, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else!

Anyways, I AM OKAY.

If I am having another mixed episode, this is a safe thing for me to be doing. I'm having the best time writing this, and I'm so happy you're enjoying it with me! Thank you!! 💜🙏🏼

~ Lynna ✨

#about lynna #cw mental illness #cw bipolar disorder #tw bipolar #cw mania #tw manic

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toxic-ship-tournament · 1 year

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ROUND 1 / SIDE B / POLL 2

Esmeralda Poofenplotz x Alice Luoja ( @cantdanceflynn ) vs Pash x Illoma ( @floralprintshirts )

lyrics by The Amazing Devil (Battle Cries)

who makes up your ship?:

Esmeralda Poofenplotz(Canon Phineas and Ferb character(although I draw her differently from canon)) and Alice Luoja(Background character turned Phineas and Ferb oc)

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

THEY BASICALLY STARTED OUT AS TWO DUMBASS TOXIC AF TEENAGERS GOING TO EVIL SCIENCE HIGH SCHOOL TOGETHER AND BEING THE TERRORS OF THE SCHOOL(POOFENPLOTZ BC SHES BIG ON BEAUTY AND WOULD BASICALLY DESTROY EVERYONE'S SELF ESTEEM AND ALICE BC. SHES WILLING TO KILL ANYONE WHO RLY FUCKS W HER), AND WHILE THEY ORIGINALLY HAD A RIVALRY IT GOT A LIL TOO HOMOEROTIC VERY QUICKLY AND THEY DON'T RLY KNOW HOW BUT THEY ENDED UP DATING. THEY ENDED UP, SURPRISE SURPRISE, RUINING EACH OTHER EVEN FURTHER THEN THE TWO OF THEM WERE ALREADY TRAUMATIZED!!!! A TYPICAL INTERACTION BETWEEN EM PRETTY MUCH WENT ALONG THE LINES OF POOFENPLOTZ POKING FUN AT SOMETHING ABOUT ALICES BODY OR PERSONALITY SHE KNEW WOULD TICK ALICE OFF("YOU KNOW, I'M NOT SAYING YOU NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT, BUT THROWING UP YOUR LUNCH LATER COULDN'T HURT"), ALICE GETTING PISSED OFF AND PULLING A KNIFE ON HER("YOU KNOW, MAYBE THIS TIME I'LL CHOP OFF YOUR TONGUE, STOP THAT HORRIBLE NOISE YOU CALL A VOICE"), AND THEN SOMETHING WOULD HAPPEN OR ONE OF THEM WOULD FUMBLE OR FLIRT AND THEY'D JUST GO BACK TO NORMAL BANTER AND TERRORIZING PEOPLE. THEY DID CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER, AND WHATEVER THEY WERE EXPERIENCING CERTAINLY FIT SOMEWHERE WITHIN THE STRANGE AND NEBULOUS RANGE OF ROMANTIC LOVE, LIKE THEY DEFINITELY LIKED EACH OTHER, THEY WERE JUST TOXIC AS SHIT AND HAVING THEIR BEHAVIORS EXPANDED UPON OR REINFORCED BY THEIR ENVIRONMENT. EVENTUALLY ALICES OBSESSION W GODHOOD AND HER IDEA OF PERFECTION (ONE THAT HAD ALWAYS BEEN THERE, EVEN IF POOFENPLOTZ MADE IT MORE PHYSICAL) ENDED UP DRIVING THE TWO APART, WITH HOW HORRIBLE ALICES DECLINE WAS, AND POOFENPLOTZ ENDED UP BASICALLY LEAVING AND IGNORING HER AS A DESPERATE ATTEMPT TO SNAP HER OUT OF HER DECLINE BUT ONLY PULLED HER FURTHER IN. AS IT STANDS NOW IN THE PRESENT, THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS A COMPLICATED SPIRAL OF "POOFENPLOTZ ACTUALLY HEALED AND REALIZED HOW AWFUL SHE WAS BEING AND WHILE SHE STILL HAD A DEGREE IN EVIL SCIENCE SHE HAD TO USE SO SHE MIGHT AS WELL GET A JOB DOING THAT, SHES ALSO RLY TRYING TO FIGURE OUT EVERYTHING W THE CAST AND HELP THEM, ESPECIALLY MILLIE AND PINKY, WHILE ALSO DEALING W " WHOOPS YOUR EX IS BACK IN TOWN AND SHES NOW BEEN RESPONSIBLE FOR MORE DEATHS THEN MOST FULL ON TERRORISM COMBINED, BUT SHE IS ALSO STILL KINDA HOT SO *NONCOMMITTAL HAND GESTURE*, YA KNOW?", MEANWHILE ALICE IS "OH RIGHT. SHE QUALIFIES FOR LOVEMUFFIN TOO. IM ALLOWED TO DENY ON HER ON TERMS OF HER BEING MY EX, RIGHT? BUT ALSO IM STILL GONNA INVITE HER TO OUR MEETINGS AND ALSO OFFER TO LET HER " LEAD" THE CULT IVE MADE THAT CONSISTS BASICALLY JUST OF MY VERY ABUSED OWN SON AND A VERY ABUSED TEENAGER WITH ME BC IF I CAN CHANGE HER MIND I CAN CHANGE ANYONES!"

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

Esmeralice, https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLnP0Xop8gS5VdFNCP4Uetvq2pM5A9NZTe <- BAD PLAYLIST BY MY STANDARDS OF USUALLY A HUNDRED SONGS AT LEAST BUT ITLL DO FOR NOW

****

who makes up your ship?:

My ocs Pash and Illoma!!

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

OKAY SO theyre blorbos from a book a plan to write and basically the premise is that the main character, Illoma, is tasked with assassinating Pash. Theyre both from different families that have control over dragons and are both dragon riders in their own right. Illoma is from the 2nd most powerful house right after the royal family, which Pash is a part of. Their empire is ruled by an immortal god-king who has had many children over the course of his long life. Pash is one of his many descendants, but highest in the line of succession after her father (which is meaningless since the king is immortal). Basically, Illoma's mother believes that Pash's parents are going to try to find a way to kill their emperor and put her on the throne. This would be a terrible outcome for everyone because Pash is a hedonistic party girl who seems to have no regard for her own life or the lives of other people. She shows up to important meetings drunk/high, has a reputation for sleeping around with women, and is overall just an undisciplined mess. Illoma is a dutiful daughter who follows the rules of society, so when her mother tells her that she needs to kill Pash for the good of the empire, Illoma does what she says. It’s easy to emotionally disconnect herself from the action at first because Illoma doesn’t know Pash at all and doesn’t particularly like her. So she tries to poison Pash. When it fails the first time, she tries again, and again, and again. None of the poisons she’s been given are working. So Illoma is left with no choice but to get closer to Pash so she can try to kill her more effectively. The twist ends up being that Pash is basically a hommuculus created for the sole purpose of dying in some blood ritual that will kill the immortal god-king. She has a year left before this happens, but until then, he body has the regenerative properties of Wolverine. So with what little time she has left, she’s decided to keep herself entertained by fucking with Illoma. At one point, she makes a toast in Illoma’s honor to praise her tenacity and drinks the goblet Illoma poisoned while making direct eye contact with her. It only gets worse from there. As they grow closer, Illoma finds that she has more and more trouble keeping her gay thoughts in check. She is a super repressed lesbian and Pash is a very much not repressed lesbian. Illoma resents Pash quite a bit for being able to break all the rules without any consequences but genuinely has fun when they go out on excursions together. Lots of projection on Illoma’s part and gaslighting on Pash’s (“haha what do you mean you stabbed me last night, Im sitting right here at breakfast!”) Halfway through the story they start boning. Illoma is still actively trying to figure out a way to kill Pash and Pash is both aware of this and aroused by some of her more intimate attempts. They have an actual connection and like each other as people, but they have opposing goals and lots of underlying animosity to work out. In the meantime, they’ll be making out about it.

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

I use the tag "dragon horse girl story" on my sideblog to vaguepost about them!! :D

#alice x esmerelda #pash x illoma #cantdanceflynn #floralprintshirts #toxic ship tournament

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pan-de-queer · 8 months

Text

20 Questions Game

Tagged by @jadedloverart! for once, i've finished work early and am free to write fic and answer tag games today hahaha thanks for the tag!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

31 lmao, feeling a lil fandom old or whatever haha

2. Total AO3 word count

157,459 ??? wild considering i mostly post one-shots hahaha

3. Fandoms you write for

for the past few years it's been supercorp but you can also find bechloe, junksen/embry, some choices (the cyoa game), and les mis sprinkled in my ao3. all wlw too

4. Top 5 fics by kudos -

ruined nights make for perfect first dates (bechloe)

'cause you know all of my secrets (supercorp)

maybe i matter (because i knew you) (bechloe)

love tastes like spring and blood (bechloe)

kept my face to the sun (you drive away my shadows) (supercorp)

most interesting thing for me abt this is that ruined nights is the shortest one out of all five of these??? love that ppl liked it so much tho

5. Do you respond to comments?

as much as possible yeah! which reminds me that i haven't replied to @jadedloverart's comment on my fic. and other comments. i should do that hahaha

6. Fic w/ Angstiest Ending -

i don't end with angst haha i'm angst with a happy ending or bust lmao BUT the closest to angst would probably be love tastes bc the issue isn't solved until the very end

7. Happiest ending? -

all of them 💕 but if i had to choose then probabbbly cause you know

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not that i'm aware of!

9. Do you write smut/what kind?

nope! never been interested in writing it mostly bc my brain sees it as "action with even more emotions" and i have a hard enough time with action as it is lol

10. Do you write crossovers?

used to! and if you count the mcu+comics!marvel crossover i only posted a tidbit of, then yes, i still do

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

again, not that i know of

12. Ever had a fic translated?

yeah! can't remember for what tho but someone very kindly asked and i said ofc!! and then they sent the link but i can't remember where lmao

13. Ever cowritten a fic?

a long long time ago haha, wouldn't be opposed to doing it again though!

14. Favorite ship?

it's been supercorp since the pandemic! but who knows where the winds of my silly lil whims might take me?

15. A wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

all of them 💕 lmao jk jk but seriously i have a LOT of wips and i put them all under ONE file so it's like wading through a garbage dump trying to see what i'll do next and that's just for supercorp, i have separate untouched wips for allll my other old fandoms too lmao (some wips i doubt i'll ever finish for sc though are the undercover fake lovers one, the coastal cleanup one even though it SHOULD be easy in theory, the hanahaki au that's lena's version instead of kara's, and the one based off of emily the song by jeremy zucker)

16. Writing strengths?

anything descriptive! i can go in depth about shit forevveeerrrr

17. Writing weaknesses?

dialogue. like i can WRITE it and i can even write it WELL but that dialogue came from the bloodbath of thousands of drafts so

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in a different language?

many thoughts! number one being that if you don't know it, get someone who's above average fluent to help you if you feel like the language is needed in the story! and if the language is fake (like using kryptonian) then make the inclusion of it make sense! other thoughts are for my thinking only 💕 (and my unfortunate friends who have to listen to me lecture)

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

MAYBE ranger's apprentice or percy jackson

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

i can't pick favorite for my babies but i'm hella proud of all my supercorp fics rn! it had been so long since i joined a new fandom that i felt suuupppeerrr awkward posting at first! but it's been a nice experience shifting fandoms ever since :)))

for the no pressure tags! @nostradamus0 @sssammich @ridiculously-over-obsessed @tiny-maus-boots and anyone else who wants to join!

#tag game #while i do genuinely mean 'and anyone else who wants to join' it ALSO means 'i don't remember y'alls usernames'#and i'm p sure i just flat out forGOT even if in my heart of hearts i know that username hasn't changed in a long while #i just can't REMEMBER

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hegoeshardasfuck · 3 months

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just follow my lead (you're in charge)

wordcount: 3.5K

tags: couch sex, loss of virginity, mild science/research kink, handjob, hermaphroditic qualities, thighs, a lil bit of body worship if you squint

synopsis: Epic realizes that sex can be good despite some bad past experiences, although, he's glad that Cross is the one in control instead of his boyfriend

note: i've been shipping epiccross since before it was cool folks, so glad to see it's starting to get some recognition. the tumblr girlies deserve some epiccross smut your honor. hope ya'll enjoy and if you did consider dropping a like or checking the Ao3 port.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46693945

"So, you've never had sex before," the question is proposed as more of a generalized statement.

"I've had plenty of exams, and some experiments went wrong, but I don't know if tentacles really cue into a good first time bruh," he can't help the nickname that slips out, the monochromatic skeleton beside him looks appalled at the notions of the sentence, "so yeah, I've been on the receiving end of sex before," he sounds so confident in saying that sex is distinctly split up like that, one person gets pleasure and the other doesn't- it makes his friend want to scream.

He makes a small noise before speaking, "Epic, that's not actual sex, not the good sex at least, have you ever had sex after that?" Epic shrugged his shoulders.

"If I'm always gonna be on the receiving end it ain't much fun bruh," Epic explained, he could hear his friend give a groan, but the pause of his friend holding his skull in his hands gave him a chance to realize he was plotting, "Cross whatever you're planning, stop," Cross doesn't stop.

"What if I were to show you that sex can be fun?" Cross offered, "just me and you, in an entirely safe, judgement free environment, and you could leave at anytime you wanted if it got uncomfy- I think you would enjoy sex if it wasn't from a tentacle monster," theres almost a tinge of humor to what he says, Epic is hesitant to answer.

"Entirely safe, and judgement free?" He asked, the answer solidifying whether or not he says yes or no, his gaze is locked on Crosses.

Cross puts out a hand, "obviously dude, it'll be like, your first time, I won't ruin it," his voice is genuine, there's a sweetness to it that no one could resist; Epic sighs before shaking his hand.

"Alright bruh," he's smiling a bit as he speaks, "whenever you wanna do this shit feel free to spring it on me," the notion of 'whenever' makes Crosses soul pulse a little faster, but he beats down whatever blush is coming to his face to focus on the task at hand instead.

"Alright, cool," Cross said, voice shaky, he hovers his thumb over the pause button, "ready to continue our round of smash?"

Epics usual grin returns tenfold, "you know it! Get ready to lose bruh!" His enthusiasm would make Nightmare vomit on the spot, it makes Cross smile as he plays.

Epic is laying on the couch, one leg draped over the edge while the other is hitched, he has both of his hands behind his skull, so calm that he might as well be sleeping. He has his eyes closed, and there isn't really anything for him to do until Cross arrives. He already contemplated starting up smash bros, or season two of Mew Mew: Kissy Cutie, but, neither of those feel correct for today.

He hears the door open, Cross, footsteps get closer until they stop and Epic opens his eyes, lazily smirking.

"Sup bruh," the words come out smoothly, "you feeling ready to teach?" His question caught Cross off guard, but, his monochromatic friend still sits at the opposite end of the couch, looking a little bit shaky with purple peppering his cheeks.

"That depends dude, are you ready to learn?" Crosses question comes across almost a little bit playful, but Epic gives a nod.

"Of course bruh," Epic speaks like the answer should already be known, but he still tenses when Cross shifts himself over to be resting between his legs, one hand resting on his femur- Cross noticed.

"You promise me that you'll tell me stop if you really want me to?" Cross asked, Epic nodded, his joints still continued to lock up when Cross moved his hand further up the fabric till it rested at his pelvis, comfortably sliding between fabric; magic started to gather, but it was forced, he shoved phalanges between sacral holes to cut off the flow and Epic cried out, "don't you dare force an ecto for my pleasure, this is about you," his tone comes out much more demanding than he expected it to.

Epic nodded, dropping his hands from behind his hooded skull, "you could've told me earlier bruh," the phrase comes out as an undignified mutter, "it's not like there's any other way to form it," Cross quirked a brow.

"Trust me, if someone wants you to form they can force you," Cross said calmly, raising his hand from Epics pelvis and swiftly swiping it along vertebrae, Epic shuddered.

"I know that bruh, I'm not an idiot, I meant like, just having it happen," Epic tried to explain, hoping his point came across clear, he couldn't bring his explanation much further with Crosses spare hand circling his sacrum, a phalange drifting across the edges of one of the holes, it felt too good to be real putting all things into consideration.

Cross nearly laughed at the concept, "it happens a lot more often than you think dude," Epic refused to believe him, not until he's gotten proof on the matter at least, "of course, we can fuck bareboning it if you so desire," the shift in Epics expression is apparent.

"Naw, I'd like to see you try and test out your 'theory' I've yet to hear about bruh," the statement comes off as a challenge and Cross gladly accepts, he runs a phalange across the inner edge of Epics ribs, back to front and so close to his soul he can feel the intrusion inside his chest. He squirms a little bit, refraining from releasing any noise, phalanges dig into the couch upholstery and it gives away his current state.

"Okay dude," he says it almost chidingly, bringing the hand he used to circle Epics sacrum to the crest of his hips, he caught Epics shudder as he applied slight pressure to the bone, "you don't have to be quiet, it's just you and me, judgement free and all that," he squeezes one of Epics ribs while speaking and it draws a squeak from the purple skeleton.

Epic feels like he's being taunted, "alright bruh," he shakily pushes himself up a bit, meeting Crosses gaze with a fierce one, "make me cry out for ya if you wanna hear it so badly," he smirks as he speaks, but he has to bite back the sounds bubbling up as Cross pinches the tip of his rib.

Cross smirks all the same, "by the end of it all, I can almost assure you that you'll be in nirvana dude."

Epic gives of a hum of amusement even as magic starts to spark up when Cross runs a phalange across the edge of his ischium. He tries to force it down but fails miserably, he drops back down to the couch, the faintest sounds still escaping him. He bites his tongue when Cross drags phalanges through the coalesced purple magic webbing itself between the gaps, it's thick and sticks to bone naturally. Cross brings his hands to Epics spinal cord, running magic smeared fingers along the individual bones, the highly sensitive individual bones- Epics twisting and shuddering and trying to force down his own voice because he refuses to lose the challenge. He feels slimy with his own magic clinging to his vertebrae, and with the way its gathering, the pace of his soul starts to pick up.

"Stop, please," Epic blurts out, Cross backs away near instantly, raising his gaze to meet Epics as he holds up his hands.

"Yeah dude?" Cross asked gently.

There was a brief pause of hesitance, "I'm not really proud of how it looks bruh, Nightmare said it looked kinda ugly," Cross feels a pang of searing hate tear across him for a second but he shoots it down, "not sure you'd like it much."

"Don't listen to what that prick says, even if he is your boyfriend, he's my boss and trust me, he's hard on everyone, he probably meant well, and remember, judgement free," Cross said trying to reassure Epic on the matter, there was a shaky nod.

"Alright, feel free to continue," Epic said, raising a hand to give a thumbs up, Cross took it, their phalanges stuck together with the magic acting as adhesive, Cross gave a small 'fuck' in response to doing so.

Still, he returned his good hand back to the crest of Epics pelvic bone, dragging it down past the acetabulum where magic gathered heavily in pools, swiping it over the pubic arch briefly (Epic yelped in response and squeezed Crosses hand). Magic starts to form a little thicker, a little more swiftly, shooting down his femurs at that, but Cross keeps sliding his phalanges along Epics pelvis; following the ischial spine to the pelvic brim. A web of magic is intertwined between the sacrum and latching onto the pelvic brim. Cross trails a phalange along the inside of each individual sacral hole and he relishes in the reactions he got through all of it. From soft little pants to spasms, Epics range of reaction was impossibly broad and seemingly positive, but, he couldn't keep his eyes open easily.

When his ecto starts to fully fill out, shooting down his femurs in a plush purple and forming intricate anatomy at the same time from the ground up. Cross tried not to stare, he really did, but he had a hard time not letting his gaze latch onto the scars on Epics hips- jagged claw marks that gouged so far down they must've hit bone at one point. He ran phalanges across them, they were a more opaque shade than the rest, a lighter, foggier tone of purple. He barely caught the way Epic tensed at the touch and he retracted his hand, yanking Epics pants down a little further, there was hints of smaller scars that gripped his thighs.

When Cross doesn't do anything Epic starts to become worried, he gives a heavy sigh and Cross looks up. Epic dispels the magic keeping their hands stuck together and pulls his away, "told ya bruh, I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Hold it right there dude, I never fucking said I didn't like how it looked, did I?" Cross asked, his tone almost accusatory, Epic shook his head, "exactly, I was just taking a moment to take it all in, have some patience, you look amazing," he's hesitant to bring a hand to cup Epics cheek, but his friend leans into the promise of touch so he does, "the scars only make you stronger, tells people not to fuck with you," he smiles a bit as he speaks, so does Epic.

Epic brings a finger up to run along the edge of the tear in his eyes, "no doubt that this bad boy has scared off some fuckers," there's an air of humor to his voice but its snuffed out when Crosses fingers hover over his amethyst ecto, phalanges ghosting between lavender hued scars.

"Wanna continue?" Cross asked, he would be fine if Epic didn't, although a part of him wanted to simply take hold and ravish his friend, but, that would break their deal- he wouldn't break their deal.

Epic shrugs, "I mean, if we're this far in bruh, stepping back would be a waste of time," his tone is casual and his smirk is genuine, Cross returns it before firmly planting one of his hands on Epics thigh, he feels the tense and eases up his grip.

He slides his hand across the expanse of purple, he's never seen Epics ecto before, he's seen Dusts and Killers, even snuck a peak at Nightmares- but everything he's seeing right now is new to him. The contours of flesh, the pulse of Epics ley lines, the faint glow, it's all something he's never seen before despite the fact Epics seen his. He's wound up in this living room watching a movie with Epic when all of a sudden he's hard as a rock or wet as a river more times than he can count- so Epics used to it, even offered a hand. Cross doesn't know Epics pleasure points, Cross doesn't know what'll garner a heavy reaction, its like he only knows what they wrote in the textbook for skeleton sex, and that isn't much. He simply hopes that Epic can't tell he's starting to get worried he won't be able to hold up on showing him that it can be fun.

His phalanges squeeze where magic is laid on thinly, right at Epics hips, he makes sure to lay his fingers between the scars instead of directly overtop; Epic shivers and nearly moans. One hand stays planted at his hip, digging into the flesh ever so subtly, the other slowly makes its way ever closer to Epics cock. Now, Cross isn't one to compare, but damn, he could break himself with that thing if he wanted to (he's thought that about all of his partners). Epics tenses become closer in interval as Crosses cooling touch edges ever closer to the base of his cock, his breathing picking up pace and he freezes all together when Cross drags his palm flat along the underside. He pulls it off and purple pre sticks to white bone, Cross refrains from tasting it, he can save that for later.

He goes to do it again but Epics reaction, or lack thereof, is a concern, "dude whats wrong?" His voice is sickeningly sweet despite their current situation and Epic starts to breath again so he can speak clearly.

"I don't know if I can pull through bruh, I'm sorry," Epic apologized, he didn't move from his spot or dispel his magic, "it feels great! It really does, I just, I'm going to drown in anxiety before pleasure takes hold bruh," his explanation gives Cross an idea, he mulls it over in his head first before speaking.

"Think of it as research," Cross proposed, Epic quirked a metaphorical brow, "take note in your head, this feels, this smells, hell, maybe even this tastes- feel free to distract yourself if it dulls the anxiety dude," Epic doesn't respond right away, "and if you wanna just stop that's also fine, we can go hit the showers and get some ice cream instead dude."

"That's not a bad idea bruh, but I don't think I'll be able to keep note," Epic said, he perched himself at an awkward angle to be closer to eye level with Cross, "of course, we may have to end up conducting research at a further date if results come out looking bare," he says it like its a promise, smirking a bit as he did so, he drops down again and gives a thumbs up.

"Heres hoping," Cross said it so quietly Epic barely caught it, but he gave a weak chuckle when he did, "say how it feels if you want to, might make it easier to remember for future papers."

Cross places his palm against the base of Epics cock, he pauses for a second sliding down a phalanx until he reaches Epics slit instead. Teasingly he lets his thumb rest a hair width away from Epics clit, bring the hand on his thigh down to stroke his cock- Epics hips involuntarily jerk up with the first stroke and Cross smirks in amusement. Epics grip returns to the couch, phalanges nearly digging tears into pleather when Cross presses down on Epics clit, a ragged moan escapes his throat.

"That feels good, akin to fire," Epic managed to choke out as Cross slid a finger in, there's a clench, "and, and that feels right," the formal tone Epic is taking all of a sudden catches Cross off guard, "bruh do it again."

Cross has the guts to give a wink as he swipes the arch between thumb and forefinger across Epics clit, "at your service," he gives a weak tug at Epics cock and there's a spurt of pre.

He fully pulls his hand along the length this time and despite his better judgement goes in for a taste, curiosity kills the cat, but satisfaction brings it back. It tastes how he imagined it to for a guy like Epic, almost sweet, sweet like cookies with an aftertaste of plums, it's all faint though- the look Epic gives him is priceless. But the expression doesn't last for long, not when Epics already talking Cross down from his high and mighty pedestal of knowing what to expect.

"Bruh lemme try some of that," he sounds so confident it throws Cross off guard entirely, still he holds out his hand to Epic who hesitantly sniffs, "that is definitely produced by me," that throws Cross for a loop, but when he catches Epics tongue slipping between his phalanges it makes his stomach flip and his face heat up, "and the flavor, once again, definitely produced by me despite how weak it is," there's a pause, "damn bruh I taste fine."

Cross gives a hum, "yeah no shit dude," he slides a second digit in beside the first and drinks up the reaction Epic gives him, another choked moan.

Cross keeps at it, twisting and thrusting his digits, he has to press into Epics thigh with his side to keep them both in place, he doesn't have enough hands to go around. He drums his fingers along Epics cock between strokes that illicit hips bucking, making it harder for him to pinpoint the spot resting somewhere inside of Epic. Still, no matter how hard it is to find exactly what it is that's making Epic melt, he's in love with the reactions he's getting.

Hips bucking and phalanges grasping it's all a treat, especially the sounds spilling forth. From the small little whimpers and gasps for air to the lustful moans that are torn from his ribs each and every one of them he's earned. And he takes it as a sign that he's doing a good job on holding up his end of the deal. Epics climax hits him hard, he's quivering as he cums and his voice is a shaking decree of Crosses name as violet hues stain his hand. Cross still doesn't stop with Epic cunt, instead he goes even harder, and Epics shaking, he distantly hears the sound of the couches fabric tearing but he doesn't care. This time it's a scream of Crosses name as those same violet hues spill over his hand in copious amounts, he brings both to his mouth to catch a taste.

Epics panting, his soul is racing in his chest, and his eyes are frantically darting back and forth. His bones feel brittle and his soul feels spent, it's amazing and he wants to chase the feeling as it starts to fade and he just feels beat. His ecto doesn't go away yet, instead Cross hesitantly holds his hands out and Epic remembers that he's documenting this.

He heaves a breath before tasting whats on Crosses left hand, "is that fucking cookies? Heh, you are what you eat I guess," Epic said, the taste lingered for a second, he gently took hold of Crosses right hand, the contrast of their shakiness was insane, "and this one tastes more like fruit, but the cookie overtone is insane," he releases Crosses hand, "and to reiterate, damn bruh, I taste fine," Cross gives a bit of a chuckle.

"You wanna go shower down dude?" Cross offered gently, Epic shook his head, shifting his legs around as his magic dispelled, he yanked his pants back up.

"I think I'll collapse if I try to stand bruh," Epic said with a bit of a forced laugh, "I'd take a bath for sure, but once again, I'm shaking like a baby deer."

Cross leans against him, he can feel the thrum of his soul and its rapid, it starts to try and sync up with his own, "you don't need to shower right away then, we can just sit here for a bit."

There's a brief pause of comfortable silence as Epics pupils shrink down to normal again, and his breathing evens out.

"Wanna watch some Iron Chef?" Epic asked, the question caught Cross off guard, but, that's what Epics good at.

"Hell yeah dude," Cross answered with, tossing the remote to Epic who took the sleeve of his jacket to wipe of the purple smudges

He flicks on the TV, "we're so doing that shit again, next time it'll be me on top though," Epic states it so boldly it makes Cross smile.

"Okay, I'm not sure if you can bring me as far as I brought you though," Cross challenged, Epic quirked a brow.

"Please, I'm a scientist, I got my methods, I assure you that within five times I'll have you begging me to stop because you can't take it," Epic challenged back, he held out a hand, "do have a wager bruh?"

Cross gripped Epics hand, "yes, yes we do dude."

#undertale multiverse #epiccross #cross x epic #epic x cross #they make go crazee ur honor #smutfic #smut fanfiction #lemon #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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drawnaghht · 9 months

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a reply to @freakova's tags on this post

#this would be a really nice ending honestly#cause YEAH why happened to his parents what gives they’re Usagi’s too#and the fact that auntie adopts the kids it shows how family can be found#+Yuichi know got lil sisters#He’s all about family (miyamoto and auntie) they could have explored it even further

same! would like to know more!!!

we never really touched on Usagi's backstory besides that his parents entrusted auntie with taking care of him, so I often wonder, if the show had been given a longer episode run, like maybe 30, 40, maybe even 26 instead of 20 - could we have seen more character backstories in general? Cuz there's also Kitsune, who's backstory we don't know at all, and then Gen and Toshiko, who we see explain their story a bit in bits and pieces through-out the 2 seasons. The fact that Usagi immediately goes back to his auntie, because he knows Hana would be safe from the ninja there, says a lot about how much he trusts his auntie. like the show makes it feel like he might actually be the most fleshed-out of all the characters, but his story is hidden almost as much as Kitsune's. I sorta get the reasoning there - their personalities already serve to tell their story a lot, Usagi is a big fan of his own ancestor and idolizes him, while Kitsune is a street-thief and grifter before we see Usagi bump into her puppet-cart and ruin her evening plans. The audience can get a lot of info out of just context-clues, but Kitsune and Usagi are also characters who are most easy to read at first, so we don't get their backstories really explored or opened the same way as Chizu or Gen, because, I can only guess, those stories don't seem to directly tie into the two larger arcs shown during the 10+10 episodes. But lol, would still like to know more, where are the activity books and character pages? a little side novel maybe? why did the age of flash games with extra info have to end before this show aired lol, if only Netflix spent money on that sort of stuff too, maybe we'd have more info besides just the shows on their own 😂😂😅

More theories and rambling below :D

My theory about Usagi's parents is that they died in one of the wars mentioned by some of the older characters in the show :) Cliche, I know! but it seems to sorta make sense. Could have been many other reasons too of course! Maybe they went to the city to find or do something related to the family business or history, but found their end somehow. One of my other theories is that there were gang wars in Neo Edo, around 10-14 years before the series starts. Maybe they found their end there? We don't even know how old his parents would have been, but judging by auntie's look and how she speaks and acts, maybe she's like, around 60-ish? she has raised her nephew for 15 years, meaning since she was around 45, so maybe her sister/brother would have been around 35-40 something when they died. I personally headcanon that it's his mom, who is the Miyamoto family member here, so maybe his dad really was a farmer by birth and thus, the family did not have a name anymore (they've always preferred staying in hiding after Miyamoto died) and that's why they gave him the name Yuichi Usagi with meaning... related to that earlier Senso-connected theory I had ^^;

The "big" wars, mentioned by Lady Fuwa and Armiral Nochi, being recent makes sense tho. bc even though a 1000 years have gone past and Edo (our real-world Tokyo) in this world has been able to embrace some more advanced tech (courtesy of the Ki-stone), perhaps even alien tech, depending on how you view what happened with Miyamoto Usagi in the show's past, some of the culture and tech has sort of stayed in the Edo period. This is mainly because the show creators and staff wanted to keep both Edo sensibilities as well as modern tech and create an interesting fusion on an artistic and story level. One of the older interviews from last year mentions that the crew was inspired by Stan's 2015 story Senso - that what if Edo got to take all that alien tech and use it for themselves? From one of Stan's answers in this 2022 Popverse interview:

"They took one of my stories – Senso, a miniseries I did where Martians invade feudal Japan – and wondered what if they took some of the technology they got from those Martians, how would it affect their society generations down the line?

That was the premise, with the story taking place in a city called Neo-Edo; with Edo being the old name for Tokyo, the capital of Japan. It also takes a lot from Japanese culture, such as vending machines, pachinko parlors, karaoke bars, and things like that. It integrated everything, the old and the new, and I’m quite happy about that."

So the wars would make sense to be more recent because to me, it seems that maybe with this tech, from a story-world level, they should be further along the line than having just flying cars and airships, right? But wars are one of those things that always and if Edo didn't have those outside influences that we had, maybe they wouldn't have some things, i.e. we don't see phones or trains on the show vs the phone boom we had in the 1980s in the real world and the hi-speed train rails japan is known for now. So they probably would have also missed out on the 60s Space Race between the US and the Soviet Union, which popularized the 1960s "space age aesthetic" for example, which is what we might think of when trying to remember 60s tech and fashion. So the show creates its own retrofuturism in trying to consider all these different elements.

(images from Flickr, Lehza Vintage)

(from The Rake, The Olympians)

I wonder if they even considered some cultural things that stuck and became popular before and after the US occupation, such as baseball Harley Davidsons and jazz - what would those be like in the world they created around the city of Neo Edo?

(from AnotherDesignBlog, Eiko Hanamura on League of Extraordinary Cosplayers, Sally the Witch on Wikipedia, 60s Vintage MENKO on eBay)

We see some semblances of what we could call western influences in how Gen installs new kitchenware in episode 5, how Kitsune looks like she could be a 1970s Harajuku girl, how Admiral Nochi and the Bat Squadron dress etc. It's an interesting balance throughout the show and thinking about it more just makes me more curious about it haha.

Maybe what happened with the Makkine a 1000 years ago is that a few sentries arrived with Kagehito's ship. Because of the surprise Kagehito expresses about the makkine warbotto self-replicating in the present (the s2 warbotto ep), we can surmise that they didn't back then, so they didn't replicate. Did they leave any ships? In the first season, Kagehito's ship is underground and covered by hundreds of years of rubble and rock. The Mogura Gang helping him then, actually find gold before they find his ship. So if any ships did come through with him those 1000 years ago, it seems that they did not "park" into the same place, or, likely that whatever happened, they were used up by locals.

The show is also quite fast-paced in reality, as we can see from how each episode jumps from POV to POV, or topic to topic and we get a lot of info in a short time, so to me it seems that the story crew REALLY crunched every bit of important info, story or jokes into the episodes, but just, didn't have more time to show or do anything about Usagi's parents.

lol what I'm doing to avoid more brainworms like this is to.... I guess continue writing my fanfic where I try to solve this (the main storyline from the comic i posted haha), but I also realized while writing this... I am waiting to see if I can get one of the new books coming out this or next year that bridges the stories/worlds between Yokai Hunter and Space Usagi, to see if there might be some new connections to be from there about Space Usagi in general, but maybe there could be something there nodding back to SR as well? maybe the new character is inspired by that or somehow bridges those things? lol a fan can hope ;D

#freakova #aghhtreplies #usagi chronicles #srtuc #yuichi usagi #srtuc kitsune #srtuc gen #srtuc toshiko #fan analysis #sorta?#aghht srtuc analysis #srtuc fan theory #long post #srtuc bat squadron #srtuc mogura gang #k half of this is just. sleepless rambles. not v good. but look at my graphics in this post!

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luvring · 2 years

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sage needs some more lovin some more attention my dumb lil meow meow so I shall ask some sage only reqs for a bit.

sage with baby face mc? like when they first meet, sage refers to them as "kid" or something cause mc has gotta be atleast a teen right? wrong. mc is atleast 40 and sage is just like ???? do you not age???

SAGE :) really good really lovely really fantastic

the first time they meet except sage fully believes there is a teenager in front of him. "listen, kid, don't take this personally alright?" "?????"

he thinks their confusion is because of what he's doing but it's actually mc stuck on him saying kid

like okay. they know they look young, they understand where he's coming from. but something about this is just a little shocking and entertaining because people usually don't immediately call them "kid" at first glance

mc sees how long it takes for him to even ask about their age, if at all. he keeps patting their back and head. "are you old enough to drink?" mc just tries not to laugh while they nod

tbh just imagining felix and anisa already knowing. like everyone is Fully aware of mc's age except for him and they've placed bets on how long it takes

but at some point it's just like....sage...king.....

"sage how old do you think i am?" "what? i don't know, like, 19 or 20 or something? why?" "i'm older than you." "what the fuck"

he genuinely looks offended

sage starts looking real hard. just wordlessly staring at them until mc says "sage?" and he pokes their face. like poking and squishing and holding and turning their face

"are you lying?" "why would i lie about being 40" "forty—"

Sage Is Having A Lot Of Internal Conflict Right Now.

seriously questioning whether everybody from earth ages the way they do or if this is just a Sage Specific Problem. he thinks he looks like his age? doesn't he??

but what is sage if not one to be smooth. or attempt to be.

"...you know, i always was attracted to older people—" "shut your mouth right now"

mc teases him a little, "being a mercenary really wasn't good for paying attention to your skin, huh? you want my skincare routine?" little meow meow wants a skincare routine??? little trauma man needs help with dry skin??? sage's ears do the little droopy thing and he glares at them

"i'll do it with you" Sage's Ears Are Perked :)

cannot lie. he doesn't really get it and he's Quite Fine with how he looks :). but there's something about the relaxation that comes with mc helping with a skincare routine (with whatever products they can actually get their hands on)

^ mc bringing up putting cucumber slices on his eyes and he thinks maybe this isn't worth it

they still hold his (long) initial attitude over his head every so often as a joke. "you have to do it because i'm the older one." "youth are so reckless these days," "how are ya doin, champ?" "Mc, Please."

is it deserved? maybe. does it ruin his mood of wanting to kiss them? There aren't enough words to describe the emotion that comes with his "Yes."

he ends up just turning it back around on them, especially when he beats them at something. "not much better than me now, huh?"

Most of the time he doesn't really mind or pay attention to it. mc might catch him staring at them for a while, but i think that comes with being with sage as a general thing

tags :0 couldn't tag? // @evanox @yelenalovegood @pst-02 @diamo-chan @god-is-trans @sweet-milky-tea705 @azahelmz my taglist form ! :))

#last legacy #fictif #sage lesath #fictif sage #last legacy sage

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 301: All My Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: We learned that when a bunch of superpowered villains are suddenly set loose with nobody around to stop them, things get fucked pretty quickly. Old Man Samurai and a bunch of other useless people decided to make “I pretend I do not see it” their new mantra, and resigned. Endeavor had a moment of despair on account of being crushed by the guilt of having ruined the lives of himself, his family, and basically everyone else in the entire world. For various reasons the heretical notion of “person who has done bad things feels sorry for doing them” sent fandom spiraling into a meltdown, so that was fun. The chapter ended with the entire Todoroki clan descending upon Enji’s hospital room to have a dramatic chat about Touya and All That General Fuckery.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “here’s the story of how Baby Touya slowly went insane trying to win his father’s love.” It’s a tale full of subverted expectations and heartbreaking inevitability, and also like twenty panels of the cutest fucking kids who ever existed on planet earth, who are so fucking cute that I can’t stop thinking about their cuteness even with all of the horrifying family tragedy unfolding around them. It is absolutely ridiculous how cute they are. Touya is out here pushing his tiny body past its limits because he inherited the same obsession as his dad and neither of them can put it aside even though it’s destroying them, and yet all I can think about is Baby Shouto’s (。･o･｡) face. Anyways what a chapter.

so I have to confess that even though I managed to avoid being caught off-guard by the early leaks, the number of people reblogging my Endeavor posts from earlier this week and using the tag “bnha 301” kind of gave me an inkling that this chapter will include more Tododrama lol. that said, I don’t know anything else about it, so we’re still good spoiler-wise

AHHHHH FLAHSBAKC AHHHH. omg I know I typoed the shit out of that, but I’m just going to leave it lol I think it’s fitting

holy shit holy fuck. so this is Rei and Enji’s first meeting, then??

yepppp, oh shit

so wait, I know this is not even the slightest bit important, but are they meeting at Enji’s home or Rei’s? because I always figured that Enji was the one with the super-Japanese aesthetic, but maybe that was Rei’s side of the family all along

(ETA: from what I found during my very brief google search, omiai meetings are often held at fancy hotels or restaurants, so maybe that’s what this is.)

there’s such a period drama feel to this setting. like it’s so outrageously formal fff how can anyone stand this kind of atmosphere though seriously

OH THANK GOD

I mean they’re still stiff af but at least they’re not rigidly sitting in seiza and staring at each other unblinkingly anymore lol. Enji’s actually got his hands in his pockets now. why is this somehow almost cute

oh damn it’s the flowers

Rei seems so subdued and it’s so hard to get any idea of what she’s actually thinking. I want to see her side of this dammit

but anyway, so at least from Enji’s perspective it seems like even though the marriage was arranged and he picked her because of her quirk, he still loved his wife and wanted to do right by her. the fact that he was watching her and noticed that she liked the flowers, and remembered that detail for all these years -- there’s a reason why Horikoshi’s showing us this. we know what’s going to happen later on; we know how much fear and violence and breaking of trust is coming up ahead, and while it may seem like this scene is serving to soften Enji’s character further -- which to be fair it is -- it also helps drive home the full impact of his abuse. that it’s so terrible not only because of the trauma of the abuse itself, but also because of the way it retroactively destroys all of the good things as well. this could have potentially been such a sweet scene, but it’s inescapably tainted by the knowledge of what’s to come, at least for me. and that’s just brutal

anyways, shit. is the whole chapter going to be like this?? feel free to toss in something I can actually make a joke about sometime, Horikoshi

oop, back to the present

omfg lol

“are you all right” “NO I’M NOT ALL RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK.” “oh, right, because of all the stuff that’s happened with me abusing you and you having a mental breakdown and being hospitalized for ten years and then our son coming back to life and killing thirty people, right, right. I almost forgot.” whoops

omfg you guys I’m loving this new and improved steely-eyed Rei. I’m loving her a lot

and what do you mean “part one” fkjds how long is this going to be. TOO MUCH DRAMA FOR ONE CHAPTER TO HANDLE

oh, hello

yeah I’ll say you did. didn’t seem to bother you much at the time, though

HMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dabi Is A Noumu intensifies even further. anyways though would you fucking look at this boy lounging on this moth-eaten couch doing his best DRAW ME LIKE YOUR FRENCH GIRLS impression wtf

Dabi what if you actually had killed him??? what would you feel?? satisfaction?? regret?? anything at all?? tell me your secrets goddammit

who are you talking to buddy

Fuyumi-chan, Natsu-kun (is it common for brothers to address each other as -kun?? can’t recall seeing that in many other anime, but hey), and “dot dot dot,,,,,, SHOUTO” lol thank you so much for this bountiful heaping of Tododrama Horikoshi we are blessed

AH, WHAT DID I SAY THE OTHER DAY

ULTIMATE MELODRAMATIC THEATER CHILD. “I’M JUST GOING TO LIE ON THIS COUCH SHIRTLESS AND ALONE AND MAKE SPEECHES TO MY FAMILY MEMBERS WHO AREN’T THERE AND SAY THINGS LIKE ‘WATCH ME IN THE PITS OF HELL’ WITH A STRAIGHT FACE BECAUSE NO ONE’S THERE TO JUDGE ME.” WELL JOKE’S ON YOU MISTER CHATTERBOX BECAUSE I AM IN FACT JUDGING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LOL

(ETA: and on a more serious note, it’s interesting to see that “look at me”/”watch me” theme being used again though, because we see that same sentiment uttered repeatedly by the younger Touya in the flashback. well kid, you definitely got your wish at last. don’t know what else to say.)

OKAY HORIKOSHI HAS DECIDED THAT’S ENOUGH FUN, TIME FOR MORE FLASHBACKS

oh my sweet precious lord

just as cute as we left him. giving us a child this cute when we all know full well what’s going to happen to him is just unspeakably cruel though

HOMG

I’m fucking speechless. you broke me, congratulations. what am I even supposed to do with this

I can’t get over this. moving forward my life will be split into two distinct parts, B.P. (Before the Pout) and A.P. (After the Pout)

and meanwhile there’s ALL THIS BACKGROUND ANGST BUILDING UP, AND I CAN’T EVEN FOCUS ON IT. Touya’s arm and cheek are covered in bandages (I’m guessing this is shortly after that “ouch!” panel we got some chapters back), and Enji is deliberately avoiding training with him because he doesn’t want him to hurt himself further. I can’t fucking get over the irony that all this time everyone thought Touya had died because Enji pushed him too far in his training, and it turns out that it’s the opposite -- the tragedy ultimately happened because he didn’t want to push him. but I’m jumping ahead of myself though I guess

by the way,

remember this?? just wanted to remind you that it exists just in case you forgot

so now someone is talking and basically saying that Touya is the exact opposite of what Enji was hoping for when he decided to start playing with quirk genetics

-- okay hold up

...lol no, never mind. for a second I thought “holy shit he looks kind of familiar WHAT IF IT’S UJIKO OMG” before I remembered that Enji would have recognized him during the hospital capture mission if that was the case. so NEVER MIND, PROCEED

IMAGINE THAT, ENJI DOESN’T QUITE SEEM SATISFIED WITH THIS SUGGESTION OF QUITTING NOW

(ETA: how the fuck did this man go around saving 62 towns in a single day what even is All Might.)

[clicks tongue several times] trouble a’brewin’

MEANWHILE BABY TOUYA HAS UNFORTUNATELY INHERITED HIS DAD’S STUBBORN STREAK

KLDIHWOEIJFL:KSDJ

!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god. oh my god. what is this chapter. WHAT IS IT

so now Touya is all “YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND MY MANLY DESIRE TO BURN MYSELF ALIVE” well you got her there champ

THEY’RE TOO CUTE. OH MY GOD. HIS FURIOUS LITTLE TEARS. HER CHUBBY LIL FACE. HIS STUBBY LIL FISTS. SOMEONE HELP ME

also are they just home alone lol or what. “hey Touya, you’re what, like six now?? do us a favor and look after your baby sister for a couple hours for us would you? make sure not to set yourself on fire or anything.” WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG!!

now it’s nighttime and Enji and Rei are arguing, presumably about his decision not to train Touya anymore

whew. okay. so, a couple of things here

1. first of all I think this conclusively shows that Enji really was trying to do the best he could for Touya. he stopped training him as soon as he realized it was hurting him, but Touya was still determined so he tried to make it work anyway, and even visited doctors to try and figure out if there was anything they could do. then, once they were absolutely sure that it wasn’t going to work, he tried multiple times to explain to Touya why they had to stop. he didn’t just abandon him out of the blue, which is really important to note. “no matter how much I tried telling him...”

so yeah, that debunks another common fandom accusation. so by the time he finally makes this decision, which we all know is going to turn out horribly, it’s basically because he’s already tried everything else he could think of. which, by the way, still doesn’t mean he handled this right. but at the very least he was taking Touya’s feelings into account and he was trying, and he didn’t just abruptly toss his son aside (at least not yet)

2. buuuut, then there’s this panel right below all that

which is the other side of it. if he’d just quit like the doctor person advised him to, that would have been the end of it. Touya would still have been upset, but he would have eventually gotten over it and the family would have moved on and possibly even been happy. but what happens next happens because Enji can’t let go. he still has this maddening urge to surpass All Might, and so he and Rei keep having more children, and then Shouto is born, and Enji finally has a kid he can start projecting all of his hysterical ambitions onto once again, and everything starts spiraling out of control soon after

though p.s. none of that is Shouto’s fault though!! he’s one of the few good things to come out of this whole mess and I’m very happy that he exists. the tragedy is that his dad fucking lost his mind over his quirk and fucked everything up. but that’s on him, not Touya or Shouto

anyways, SLKFJLSHGLKJL

I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE THIS YOU GUYS??? LOOK AT THAT LIL BUTTON OF A NOSE??? I’M LOSING IT HERE???

AND TOUYA JUST SEEMS DEVASTATED OMG

because children aren’t stupid, after all. he understands that his dad is still looking to surpass All Might. and so he feels like a failure, and feels like his dad is trying to replace him because he wasn’t good enough. and even now, isn’t that what the adult Touya is trying to prove?? that he was good enough after all?? “I’ll show you what happens when you give up on me, dad”?? “I’ll show you what I can do”?? fuck my life fuck everything

AND YOU CAN SEE THE TOLL THAT IT’S ALL TAKING ON REI GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS WELL OH GOD

really nice touch here with the panel outlines becoming all shimmery from the heat of Endeavor’s flames (and/or becoming more unstable as the family gets closer and closer to their breaking point). but man, Horikoshi I can’t handle this, please show us more cute kids or something I can’t

GKELKWFJLDKSHFLKL

WITTLE BABE. BEEB. BUBS. SMOL. lkj; oh ouch a piece of my heart just detached and latched onto him huh look at that

TODOROKI “I’M SO SMALL AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON AND I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE” SHOUTO AHHHHH

crazy how they all just seem to know right off the bat lol. kid doesn’t even have object permanence yet, let alone a quirk. but do they care?? IT’S THE HAIR, RIGHT. WE’RE ALL THINKING IT, I’M JUST GONNA COME OUT AND SAY IT. they knew the minute they looked at him lol

AND MEANWHILE TOUYA IS OFF HAVING UNSUPERVISED TRAINING/CRYING SESSIONS IN THE MOUNTAINS OR WHATEVER, AND, UH OH

are those blue flames yet?? they seem pretty close

(ETA: this is one of the few cases where the manga being in black and white is infuriating lol.)

OH MY GOD AND STILL

so it’s not like he was so disinterested that he didn’t notice what was happening, and he was still trying to stop it and get through to him. trying to reassure him that it wasn’t the end of the world and there were other things he could do with his life, but this one particular thing just wasn’t going to happen

fucking hell. it’s agonizing seeing how close they actually were to fixing it. if he’d only said the right words, or if he’d realized at this point how destructive his obsession could be to his kids, and backed off from putting that same pressure on Shouto. we came so close to possibly having a happy ending

AND ALSO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING BUT PLEASE LOOK AT HOW TOUYA IS LIKE THREE AND A HALF FEET TALL AND HIS DAD IS LIKE NINE AND A HALF FEET. Touya barely comes past his knees flkjlkg. the Todoroki household must have been so filled with like plastic stepstools to reach the bathroom sink and all the little baby toothbrushes, and baby gates to keep the kiddos out of the important grown-up rooms and stuff. and also days-old half-empty cups of water and stale crackers and hot wheels and my little ponies strewn everywhere

“BUT EVERYONE AT SCHOOL SAYS THEY’RE GONNA BE HEROES” a wild Deku parallel appears?? how bout that

I know this is like a pivotal moment in the Todo Tragedy and all, but fucking look at this lil dumpling

“sup bro, it’s me, the manifestation of your fears of inadequacy and lack of fatherly affections. a GAAA. ba-baAA-baa [gurgling baby sounds]”

OHHHHH IT’S THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING OH NO

HE WANTS TO BE LIKE YOU ENJI. good lord somebody please just get this family some therapy

“DAD YOU IGNITED IT IN ME” flkjslkj nope, nope. not ready for this pain here

baby Shouto, would you like to weigh in on this affair? “DA!! ba-ga-daaa, [pacifier chewing noises]” oh my, you don’t say. so insightful for one so young

OH MY GODDDDDD

IT’S SO DRAMATIC BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE SHOUNEN WOOSH LINES SURROUNDING FOUR-MONTH-OLD SHOUTO LOL HE WAS LIKE THIS FROM BIRTH OH MY GOD I AM DYING HELP

SHOUTO YOU’RE RUINING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER!?!?!

“yo, the fuck kind of family was I fucking born into” oh, son. if you only knew. IF YOU ONLY KNEW!!

(ETA: lmao I got so distracted by the ridiculous cuteness that I glossed over the fact that Baby Touya seems to possibly be aiming at him?? it’s hard to tell because he’s also super out of it from heatstroke and may just be losing control in his attempt to show off his upgrade.)

ANYWAY THAT’S THE END EXCEPT WHAT’S THIS LAST LINE OMG

ffffff. and we’re in for ANOTHER chapter of this next week?? MORE drama?? MORE BABIES?? MORE OF EIGHT-YEAR-OLD TOUYA’S SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS. MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT, BUT ALSO YES PLEASE SIGN ME UP

#bnha 301 #dabi #todoroki touya #endeavor #todoroki enji #todoroki rei #todoroki shouto #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki natsuo #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

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closing time - part 2

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader

warning: none that I can think of

word count: 2,700-ish

a/n: just wanted to thank everyone who took the time to comment, reblog or like the first part 💕 your support truly means a lot to me. everyone who has asked to be tagged or requested a second part has been @-ed below.

previous part

"Who are you talking to?”

The question came seemingly out of nowhere, making you jump so hard you almost dropped the phone in your hand.

“Jesus, woman!” you swore, putting your free hand over your rapidly beating heart, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Natasha was fresh out of the shower, her wet hair twisted in a towel. The redhead was wearing an oversized grey hoodie and some sweatpants that you had found somewhere deep inside your closet. She looked adorable, you had to admit, like a kid wearing their parent's clothes. The sight strangely made your stomach flip.

“Force of habit, I'm afraid,” she smiled apologetically, carefully sitting down on the couch. Her face was finally clean, no more mud, blood, or grime sticking to her features. Except for the blue-ish bruise on her left cheekbone, and a small cut near her eyebrow, her skin was unfairly flawless.

“So, are you gonna answer my question?”, she plopped her feet up on your coffee table, shaking you out of your thoughts. With a shrug, you pocketed your phone, hoping she hadn’t noticed your staring.

“Just work. Called in sick until Tuesday. After all, I can’t let you roam around my apartment unsupervised. For one, you’re injured, for another, you’re still a stranger.”

On your way to the couch, you picked up the first aid kit from your kitchen counter.

“A stranger?” she repeated with mock hurt, putting a hand over her heart, “ You wound me. After everything we’ve been through, I really thought we were getting closer.”

Shaking your heart amusedly, you sat down next to her. Balancing the first aid kit on your thigh, you pulled on a pair of rubber gloves with a snap. You could feel her gaze on you, watching your every move. Nervously, you cleared your throat, a little uncomfortable with her attention.

“Let’s have a look,” you nod to her and she complied with your unspoken request, pulling the hoodie up just enough for you to access her injury. Gingerly, you removed the bandage, dumping it into the trash can and inspecting the stitched wound, quietly humming in concentration as you did.

“I think you strained it a bit with your morning escapades today but I don’t think you pulled any of the stitches,” you concluded after a moment. Your voice sounded more sure than you actually felt about your assessment, considering all your expertise came from the internet. But, apparently, your word was good enough for your patient.

“See, I told you. You worried for nothing,” she slapped your shoulder jestingly and you rolled your eyes, taking out a new bandage to re-wrap the wound.

“I wouldn’t say for nothing. After all, you have been stabbed and only received medical attention from an amateur,” you pointed out, giving her a chastising look when she tried to dismiss your troubles with a languid hand motion.

“I think you should be concerned by the fact that I seem to be more worried about your health than you are," you continued, undeterred, "How's the pain, by the way?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, waving away your concerns, “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I'll be fine”, Natasha insisted with emphasis, “Besides, I don’t like taking painkillers. Dulls the senses.”

If you weren’t as tired as you were, you might have argued a little more. Instead, all you did was sigh and give a curt nod to signal your understanding. You didn’t really get her at all. If she was just going to hang around your apartment for the next couple of days, then who cares if her senses are dulled? It wasn't like anyone knew she would be here.

You finished wrapping her wound, leaning back to observe it from afar. You were admittedly getting better at bandaging. So that was a plus point.

“Alright, that’s it,” you nodded pleased, starting to clean up. Natasha inspected your work as well, pulling her hoodie back down once she was satisfied.

“You’re surprisingly good. Have you ever done this before?”

Chuckling, you shook your head, closing the little dark green box on your lap.

“You mean have I ever stitched someone together before and let them take refuge in my home? No. Can’t say I have.”

She smiled at your sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes playfully, before smirking mischievously.

“Ah, I'm your first. I'm honoured.”

You flushed at the implication of her statement, trying to hide your embarrassment by fiddling with the first aid kit. Don’t overthink it. You do not want these kinds of thoughts right now. Not about her. Sure, she is beautiful and it is kind of fun to banter with her and she has probably the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen and her lips…

“So, what’s your verdict doc?” she nudged you back to reality, amusement in her voice. You cleared your throat, shaking your head to clear your previous thoughts away.

“You need rest. Lots of it. No putting unnecessary strain on your injury,” you explained distractedly, pulling the gloves from your hands and letting them drop into the trash can, “So, I forbid you from leaving the couch for anything other than using the bathroom. Like I said before, if you need something, ask me.”

“You forbid me? My, my, how bossy of you. Then again, your home, your rules.”

“I just don’t want you to make anything worse,” you replied earnestly, ignoring her teasing tone.

Natasha grinned, eyes sparkling, leaning dangerously close to you.

“It's cute how concerned you are,” she almost whispered, her breath ghosting over your face. You felt your heart speed up.

“Don’t tell me you care about this lil old stranger here.”

Needing to remove yourself from this situation, you practically jumped off the couch, trying to play your reaction off with an annoyed eye-roll and a huff.

“Don’t be so full of yourself. I just don’t want you to start bleeding again. Might end up ruining my carpet,” you explained, the words leaving your mouth so quickly, it was a wonder you didn’t stumble over them. You resolved to change the topic entirely.

“Want anything to eat? Drink?”

Without sparing a second, you walked over to the kitchen, idly opening the fridge and looking through it just to keep your mind busy and eyes away from her. The frigid air definitely helped cool down your heated face as well. So that was a nice side effect.

“Vodka on the rocks would be nice,” she quipped. You shook your head, well-aware that she couldn’t see you, hidden away behind the fridge door. Apparently, your silence was answer enough though, because only a few seconds later, she let out a concessive sigh.

“Fine. Water will do.”

Preparing her a glass, you carried it over to the living room area, nudging her foot with your leg to get her to take them off your coffee table. She complied begrudgingly, accepting the glass and draining most of it in one gulp. It was only when you noticed a single droplet running down her chin that you realized you were staring. Again. Very obviously. Immediately you averted your gaze, opting to eyeball the wall in the far distance.

“So, what are you gonna do today? Anything planned?”

What a terrible question.

“Not really,” you saw her shrug out of the corner of your eye, “But I do need to use your radio again. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”

“Uh, sure.”

You spotted the device on the tv cabinet. Handing it over, you made certain that it was plugged in for her, watching the red digits on the small display light up. For a moment you remained in place, observing her as she fumble with it, her forehead creased in concentration. Feeling awkward just standing around, you approached, anxiously rubbing at the back of your neck in search for something to say.

“Can I ask, what exactly is it that you do with it?”

She seemed to mull your question over, before patting the couch cushion next to her.

“Sit. I’ll show you.”

You do, making sure to keep a decent amount of distance between you while still being able to see what she was doing. Natasha showed you how to switch to a shortwave radio station and how to input messages to be transmitted. The static sound filled your apartment again, changing to a couple of high-pitched sounds once in a while when she enters a new code. It was fascinating, something that seemed entirely taken out of an old spy movie.

“So, you’re sending encoded messages to someone?” you summarised her explanation, intrigued, “Do you use morse code for the encryption?”

“Morse code. That’s cute,” Natasha let out a short laugh, shaking her head in amusement. The towel her hair was wrapped somehow stayed in place. She looked up at you with a cocky smile, her eyes meeting yours and taking your breath away for a moment.

“If I wanted all the other agencies in the world to know my location, then yes, I'd use morse code. No, this is my very own code. Only a handful of people know it.”

“Impressive. So this means you’re a spy, right?”, you asked as she continued working on her transmission, “Because this is textbook spy behaviour.”

Natasha didn’t reply. Not that you had expected her to. Yep, definitely a spy. That would also explain her injury and need to lay low for a few days.

“So, do all secret spies have their own encryption codes, or are you just special?”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that I’m very special,” she quipped seriously, not looking up from her task, “Once I'm recovered, I’ll gladly show you my special set of skills up close.”

You blinked, perplexed, cocking your head to the side.

“I’m not sure whether you’re trying to threaten or flirt with me,” you remarked, a frown settling on your face. The redhead turned the radio off, putting it down next to her and looking up at you with a big grin.

“And isn’t that just part of the fun?”

--------

Natasha, it turned out, had quite the talent for coming up with pick-up lines that could double as thinly veiled threats. You did your best not to show how flustered she made you, either changing the subject, feigning ignorance, or trying to come across as exasperated or annoyed instead. To be honest, you did rather enjoy her flirtatious remarks. After all, it wasn’t every day that such a beautiful and quick-witted woman hit on you, even if it was just in jest. She also had something rather mysterious about her that intrigued you. It was probably a spy thing.

She, in turn, seemed to grow more comfortable around you as time passed. Daring to express her emotions more openly without always relying on sarcasm or flirtation. The memory of making her laugh out loud for the first time - a real laugh that had her throwing her head back and crinkling her eyes - was practically ingrained into your mind. Even now, just thinking about it, brought a fond smile to your face and made your heart flutter.

You weren’t stupid. At least you liked to think you weren’t. No, you were fully aware of the fact that you were developing feelings for the secretive redhead. And you knew that it was a terrible idea, that you should fight it. After all, she would be leaving soon and you weren't likely to see her again. But resisting her charms was a lot harder than you had anticipated. Especially, when you had to share your small apartment.

So, instead, you decided to treasure whatever short time you did have with her. You cooked her your favourite dish, blushing when she complimented your skills in the kitchen. The two of you watched several movies huddled together on your couch. You had seen them all before but enjoyed watching her point out all the unrealistic plot points and inconsistencies, only to end up grinning like an idiot at the cheesy happy ending. You also came up with several bad and dorky jokes just to hear her laugh out loud again. It felt nice. Almost domestic and natural.

But in the end, Tuesday came sooner than you had hoped. All night long, you had laid tossing and turning in your bed, dreading what would happen.

The sun was not yet out when you heard the now-familiar sound of radio static coming from your living room. Suddenly very awake, you practically shot out of your bed and hurried out the door.

Natasha was already dressed to leave, hair pulled back into a braid. A few locks had escaped and framed her lovely face. She looked up when she heard you enter, putting the radio aside.

“Morning,” she greeted with a small smile, “You’re up uncharacteristically early. Did I wake you up?"

“It’s fine. Didn't sleep well anyways,” you assured her, brushing a hand through your hair. A moment of silence.

“So. It’s Tuesday, huh?”

“Observant as always. My colleague will be picking me up shortly if that is what you’re asking.”

Dread filled you. While you knew this moment was coming, you suddenly found yourself wholly unprepared for it.

“Then the air is clear again, right? Successfully laid low?”, you asked, fumbling with your hands as you rambled on, “That’s good. Great.”

The redhead quirked an eyebrow at you, shouldering a small duffel bag as she approached you.

“It is indeed great. Means I won’t be targeted the moment I step outside your door,” she commented casually. As if possibly being assassinated wasn’t a big deal.

“Right. Good,” you nodded in agreement, unsure what else to say to that. She stopped directly in front of you, regarding you curiously. Your pulse spiked.

“Need me to check out your wound again? One final examination before you’re dismissed from the hospital?” you offered. Natasha shook her head.

“I’m fine. You did a great job, doc,” she flashed you a big smile, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me these past few days.”

Face growing warm, you make a throw-away motion with your arm.

“No need to thank me. I really enjoyed spending time with you,” you tell her genuinely, meeting her green gaze. Her expression softened. she took another step closer. Your breath hitched at her close proximity.

“Me, too. But I’d still like to express my deep gratitude."

Something mischievous flashed in her eyes. Before you could ask her what she meant, she had already cupped your face and pulled your face to hers.

The moment your lips met, every other thought you had vanished from your mind. Electricity shot through your veins, your skin tingled where she touched you. After a moment you caught yourself and returned the kiss, pressing back against her, your hands carefully settling on her waist.

For a while, nothing else seemed to matter. Breathing, thinking, everything appeared rather trivial in comparison to this feeling of her lips on yours. It wasn't until a loud knock sounded on the door, that you broke apart. You were both breathing hard. Your eyes met and the smile she gave you had to be the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“My colleague’s here", she whispered, somehow breaking through the fog in your mind. Right. She was about to leave. You swallow against the lump that formed in your throat. Still unable to find words, you just nod, taking a small step back. You tried to keep the sadness off your face and most likely failed miserably.

To your surprise, she laughed, shaking her head.

“Don’t look so glum. This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“It doesn’t?” you asked hopefully. Natasha gave you a look full of adoration, pulling a small slip of paper from her pocket.

“I'll probably be busy for a few days, but I have nothing planned next week,” she pressed the paper into your palm. Unfolding it, you saw a phone number scribbled on it in blue ink. A big grin overtook your face as she continued.

“I'm sure we can work something out. I'd love to take you out.”

You meet her eyes, butterflies going wild in your stomach.

“Take me out as in on a date, or…?” you asked jokingly.

Wordlessly, she pressed a small kiss to your cheek.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

___________________________________________

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#natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #black widow x reader

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