#she was the only one who hugged him this season and for that i owe her my life

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

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

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

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

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

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

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

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

If only you knew. 

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

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

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

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…I just-”

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

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

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

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

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

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” he questions.

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

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

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

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

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

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

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

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

R: She’s five, genius

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

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

“What’s inside? I thought-”

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

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it you believe him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guess that God was on your side today. 

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

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

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

Princess: please rafey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

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

“No, I did, I swear-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes pass by.

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

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

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

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

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

౨ৎ

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

[zekie78]

Platonic Yandere Strawhats finding a abandoned child and taking them in

𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙇𝘿

You were drifting, you were cold and you only asked in a low voice where your parents were, this was just going to be a normal day ... A normal fishing

This day was a sunny day, your father told you that they were going fishing just beyond the reef, as there was a big herd of fish coming in for the season, so you, your mother and father ventured out to sea, beyond the reef. Everything was fine until suddenly a storm suddenly caught you (the changing weather of the Grand Line).Since your family were fishermen for obvious reasons from an early age, you were taught to swim and fish.

So in the blink of an eye you were in a storm and your boat, being very small, only needed a wave to hit it and break it, you felt from one second to another the water, one second more your mother screaming, your father under water and the other .... You were alone

But while you were crying not seeing your parents you saw in the distance a boat approaching, you couldn't distinguish which boat it was because of the storm so you just tried to scream for help and fell down in a faint.Again and again you heard your mother's scream , your father under the water .... And the boat was like a loop everything was going on until suddenly you woke up.

All of a sudden you saw that you were in a bed , you looked around and saw things that would belong to a doctor , you sat on the bed and even with the sound of the sea raging in your ears , you pressed the sheet but everything would pass when you heard that the door y open and Into a "Racoon?"

Then - "I'm not a raccoon, I'm a reindeer" from the already located by Chooper entrel to see you, from one moment to another 9 more people were in the room, several men, a couple of women, a skeleton and a very large man and metal. That's when they began to introduce themselves and ask you what had happened and why they had found you on the high seas before answering, you started to cry because you remembered once again the accident and the storm, which everyone noticed but you felt hands coming out of god knows where and started to wipe away your tears. After that you introduced yourself as "Y/N" and you were 10 years old. Even after that explanation you were fed by perhaps the best cook, the man Brook played the most energetic tunes to get you out of your depression.

And so began your life with the straw hats Luffy is like your big brother and you always played with him , Ussop and Chooper you liked his attitude but there were times when he played with your cheeks , squeezed them and hugged you after that.

Zoro on the other hand was Tough as he would always come in but for strange reason he wanted you there with him or watching him or teaching you some moves, all well and good. But the weird thing is when you were sitting and before he took his nap, he would take you and sit you on his lap and hug you like a cuddly toy.

With Ussop you always knew he was lying, but sometimes he would start to say some words that you didn't like -" I can't believe that in a moment you would want to leave, without us you wouldn't be able to come".

Nami well, at the age of 10 years old you already owed more than 10 thousand berry and you didn't know why "-Ransom fee, fee but membership, not because you are a kid you are saved"- that changed when you were next to her drawing whatever, while she was on her maps but sometimes she looked at you and asked her to be the one to keep your drawings which she didn't do and took it with her. Robin so that it would not be seen as an attempt to leave the ship and it shows in the drawings.

With Brook you only hung out with him when you were feeling depressed and asked him to play you a song to relax you. Franky is the one you had the most fun with, his encouragement, that he always wanted to get you involved in his work made you smile and so on. Robin, with her you got on a maternal side , it was her who was going to wake you up for tomorrow and it was her who sent you to sleep..... The strange thing is that she always wants to see your drawings, to know what you think and you always know that she is watching you because you want to be alone and you see an eye on the wall, to know what you are going to do, everything about you, something that was supported by the captain.Since they all knew one thing By a miracle they got that gift, tender, small, perfect influencer How would you let go of your adorable child

#yandere strawhats #strawhats x reader #Yandere one piece #straw hats x reader #Mugiwaras

[englishstrawbie]

Station 19 7x05

And just like that, we're 100 episodes in and half way through season 7. 🥺 And it was a great episode!

It was always going to centre around Andy and her captaincy, and I love that she asked Maya to put her captain's pin on her. I know that people feel that the friendship isn't always depicted in the best way, but - for me - it's always been one of the most important relationships on the show. Maya is one of her biggest supporters and I'm glad that Maya is in a place where she can celebrate her friend's success without it hurting her, knowing what she lost when her own captaincy was taken away from her.

"There is no life to be lived in the ashes" ... I love this line.

Plus, Maya in her Class As. 🔥👌🏻

I'm not mad that Maya apologised to Beckett. If you rewatch the conversation between Maya and Ben in 6x11, Maya giving Beckett the bottle and the reasons behind it (regardless of her mental health), and the consequences of it, is something that has been weighing on her. Ben says to her: you can apologise for it when you're ready. It's been something that she wants and needs to do, and now she's ready.

What I hate... so much... is the lack of accountability for Beckett's actions. 🙄 The bullying, the hazing, and everything he did that contributed to Maya's breakdown. It's not all on him, but some of it is. We've only ever seen an apology from him to the group and there have never been any consequences on him. Yes, he has an addiction, and yes he deserves some compassion for that, but he also needs to be held accountable and Maya is owed an apology from him, too.

I'm glad they gifted us Doctor DeLuca in this episode and her "I wish you could have met your Zio Andrea, you would have loved him" hit me right in the feels. I love that they acknowledged that she's missing her family as she's growing her own.

Did they forget about the lawsuit already?

As someone pointed out on Twitter, the fact that Carina - an OB - didn't check her FSH levels before they started at home inseminations makes zero sense. 🤦🏼‍♀️ And I don't understand the point of giving them this extra challenge in the IVF process when they don't have time to tell the story. But at least they haven't destroyed her dream of carrying a child completely and it was a sweet scene. Maya's "I didn't want to have a family until you showed me what a family is" made my heart melt.

Vic's downward spiral is heartbreaking to watch and Barrett Doss is killing it every episode. Vic is someone who we know has grown up not talking about her feelings, she calls her parents out about it after their restaurant burns down in season 4. She lost Ripley, she lost Pruitt, she lost Dean, she lost Theo, now she's losing Crisis One. She needs to talk about it (I'm gutted that Diane won't be back this season to help her) and someone needs to wrap that woman into a big hug and tell her everything is going to be ok. Crisis One is one of the best things they have ever done for her character and I hope they find a way to save it.

#station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #vic hughes #my rambles

[circusmania]

SIN CHAPTER 1

꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦

Notes: This story is first-person narration, since I couldn't decide on an x reader or x oc. This gives free imagination on who will be in the main character's shoes. The main character will be a nameless character, meaning no one will address the main as anything specific. The only detail will be that the main is perceived as a male.

STORY INTEL: A new boy, Marcus, has just transferred to Cheshire High. Everyone is warned to stay away from him, as he looks as if he just crawled out of a grave. However, our main character seems to be somewhat drawn to him. Judy displays her negative feelings towards Marcus, wanting the main character to stay away from him. Although she seems unreasonable, there has to be more to the story, right? Just what are they hiding? What secrets lie in wait for him to uncover?

CHARACTERS ARE NOT MINORS

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

♡

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I wish that

Across your back

Was a zipper

And that I

Could just crawl in

Forever a part of you.

I'm suddenly shaken awake. I look to my side to find my girlfriend, Judy Presley, giggling to herself.

“Sleeping already? Class barely started!”

I quietly laughed, raising my head to look at her.

“I've been busy with football practice, I'm worried about the upcoming tournament. I've only just found out that Oliver broke his-”

“Hey, no worries!” Judy rubbed my back. “You can come over to my house today, so you can catch up on some sleep.” She winked.

I laid my head back onto my crossed arms on the table. I wasn't in the mood for that today… Anyway, I ready myself to fall back into slumber, fully expecting to be hugged by sleep.

However, that idea was cut short when the teacher clapped his hands.

“Quiet down everyone, today we have a new student.” This piqued my interest. “Marcus, come on in.”

A tall, slender boy with long (and I mean hip-long) black hair came in. His hair covered half his face, with only the septum piercing and mouth left out in the open. I could tell he was a gothic-alt based on his clothes.

Judy cringed next to me. “What's with this guy? He's so ... depressed, looking. She chuckled, causing” the teacher to look our way.

“Alright, Marcus, go sit at the desk table next to Judy. Judy, raise your hand, please.”

Marcus sat at the nearby desk; there was something about him, I couldn't pinpoint. I realized I was staring too long when Judy elbowed me.

“Ow!” I whisper-yelled.

“SH! You two!” The teacher side-eyed us both before going back to teaching.

“What's with the staring?” She asked, suspiciously.

“Nothing just found him-”

“Weird, satanic, faggy-”

“JUDY! You can't say that!-”

“I've had it with you both! Since you both cannot stop being lovey-dovey with each other…” The teacher scanned around the room, “Judy switch with Marcus.”

“But sir, I-” Judy argued, still blushing from the lovey-dovey accusation.

“No buts Judy, if you're going to be disrespectful in my class you're going to be punished. This isn't kindergarten anymore.” He said, turning back to the blackboard.

I whispered a silent apology to her, but I'm not sure if she heard it.

She sighed before grabbing her stuff and standing up. She passed Marcus, silently glaring at him before sitting down. I'm sure she won't let me hear the end of it at lunch…

I looked back at Marcus, who was now organizing his binder and pencil case, occasionally looking up at the lesson. Now I could get a better look at him. His clothes consisted of only black and grey shades with ripped baggy jeans, platform boots, and a t-shirt with some rock band, I presume. He wore all kinds of chains, necklaces, earrings, and rings.

He was the complete polar opposite of Judy. She always put her light brown hair in a ponytail with a white bow, wore perfect matching season clothes, and had well-made makeup. I would be lying if I said she wasn't something but, Marcus, he was also something… Wait, why am I comparing them??

I rubbed my temples and groaned.

I looked back at Marcus, only to be met with him facing me!

“You have very pretty eyes.” He said, giving me an affiliative smile.

Gasp His voice?? Holy shit, it's … almost unrealistic…

“T-thank you…”

I internally slapped myself, was I seriously stuttering?? God, I'm so embarrassed.

I heard him lightly chuckle beside me.

What's going on with me? I must be coming down with something!

ﾟ+: *✧･ﾟ:﹤ 🔔🔔🔔﹥: ･ﾟ✧*:+ﾟ

“Judy this, Judy that, shut your goddamn mouth!” I shut my locker, half listening to Judy's rant. “I hate that fucking teacher! Who does he think he is, separating us like that!?” I nod, just letting her get it all out of her system.

“Hey guys, wait up!” A small voice behind us made Judy shut up.

We both turned towards a familiar girl. Vanessa Kareem, Judy's BFF (as she calls it). Vanessa and her have always been friends. She was pretty much the spitting image of Judy except for her black silky hair that was in a grunge haircut, her blue eyes, and her much paler skin.

“Hey V, how's it going?” Judy smiled, forgetting all about her rant.

“Nothing much, however, you'll never guess what happened! I've just received another A! In science too!” She waved her test around, looking at me for words of praise.

“Oh, uh, congrats Vanessa, although I'm not all that surprised… you're pretty smart. I can't remember the last time you've gotten a B.” I rub the back of my neck.

“Me neither…” Judy said, a bit sourly.

Vanessa laughed, “Oh, stop it! Both of you! He-he. Anyway, how are you guys?”

“I'm glad you asked, we're doing pretty miserable,” And there she goes again… “I got switched seats with the new vampire wannabe.”

Vanessa blinked. “You two aren't sitting together anymore?”

“No! Can you believe it!? We always sit together! Ugh! I'm so pissed off! Fuck that new kid.” Judy screamed.

“Hey, don't say that! He's not all bad.” I intervened.

“And what makes you say that?” Judy cocked an eyebrow.

“He… He said my eyes looked nice.” I pinched the palm of my hand.

“Your eyes indeed do look nice,” Vanessa said, causing Judy to side-eye her.

“Yeah, well, I say that all the time! As a matter of fact, I think your hair looks immaculate today!”

“Thank you, Judy, and erm, Vanessa.” I give them both a wary smile before continue walking to the cafeteria.

There, MY best friend, Omar Thomerson, sat devouring his lunch. Omar, he's been with me since the universe was created. We're convinced we were best friends in our past lives. I've always thought of him as the geek in our friendship. He's always been obsessed with any fantasy fiction he can grab on. Greek mythology, science-fiction, astrology, you name it. He has dark brown hair with a shag haircut, freckles, and brown eyes. His typical wear is a worn-out hoodie and cargo pants.

“Hey, Hey, there's my best friend!” Omar patted the seat next to him.

I sat down with Judy and Vanessa trailing after me. I gave him a high five before opening my lunch box.

We all chatted and ate, Omar occasionally bringing up the big party he is planning on having at his house this weekend.

“Our whole grade is going to be invited! You guys better all be coming, especially you” Omar said, smirking at me.

“The whole grade? Don't you think that's too much? I mean, I know you own a big house but…” She sighed, “Not only that, but I might have plans this weekend.” Judy said, taking another bite of her salad.

“I'm for sure coming, I would never miss your parties!” I slap his back jokingly.

“I'll be going too!” Vanessa beamed.

“Well… maybe I'll have time to swing by,” Judy said.

“Great! I'll be holding you all to that then.” Omar smiled.

We continued our conversation until something caught my eye, a familiar half-face going out the back cafeteria door. The only thing behind there are dumpsters and roaches…

“Hang on, guys, I'll be back.” I squeezed out of my seat.

“Want me to come with you?” Judy sat up.

“No, no, I won't be long anyway,” I said before running out after Marcus.

I opened the back door and closed it behind me. I looked around and as expected there were only dumpsters.

I advanced towards one of them and looked behind it, but nothing-

“What are you doing?”

꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦

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#horror #x male y/n #x male reader #x transmasc reader #wattpad #chapter 1 #romantic yandere #yandere #yandere male #yandere original character #yandere oc #gay #fantasy #plot twists #analogue horror #scp #tadc #x female reader #x transfem reader #half of these tags have nothing to do with the story #SIN #yandere male x male reader #male x male #i’m back #ao3 tags #original story #orignal writing #original content #original idea #fnaf

[water-beats-earthbender]

Look, i love Katara, i really do. She's one of my faves, which is why it pains me when season 3 fics make her out to be a complete bitch. Yes she hated Zuko, yes she was mean to him, but y'all take it too far.

I especially hate in the "the gaang learns how Zuko got his scar" fics when the whole story of Zukos scar comes out bc Katara goaded him. Zuko does not owe them that. Zuko went 3 years on a boat with never mentioning how he got his scar. He never tells anyone in canon about it and only talks about his scar in season 3 to people who already knew. The audience only knows about his scar because IROH told the story. Zuko is not telling to story unless it's pried out of him (the exception being the "I assumed you already knew" trope in the fics because i love that and that is a valid assumption that Zuko would make).

But making Katara unnecessarily cruel and then having Zuko tell the story of his scar as a gotcha moment is leagues out of character for him. And Katara. The og gaang does kinda deserve to know why Zuko was chasing them, but at the same time Zuko does not owe them his traumatic backstory. The story of his scar is not something that he's telling the everyone with ears about.

Katara glares at Zuko, threatens him in private, doesn't like to accept his help (the keeping rocks from crushing you), and makes snide comments (mainly after Azula attacks them). But she still let Aang go alone with Zuko to the temple of the sun warriors. She threatened Zuko, but was the one to catch him when he was falling in the western air temple. She's grumpy and butter in the Southern Raiders but them forgives him and hugs him. Then Zuko and Katara are basically inseparable after that. She can't be too cruel towards him. Lowkey Zuko would probably accept bad treatment bc that boy has insecurities but Katara would never act like that and she wouldn't forgive herself for it because her main character trait is compassion.

#atla zuko #zuko #Zuko's scar #katara #atla katara #atla #avatar the last airbender #stop making katara into a complete bitch in ur fics guys #i read for multiple ships but like when youre trying to make zutara happen in your fic dont make katara too much of a bully post DoBS #like obvs yes shes mean and she hates him #and shes right to #however #there is such a thing as too far #and having her taunt him about his scar is too far #its a disservice to my bestie Katara #or in Zuko joins the gaang early fics people use season 3 katara without the backstory that leads to season 3 katara's anger #before Cross roads of destiny katara would be suspicious of Zuko butbshe would not be cruel #she doesnt like him and would yell like in canon but also like in canon her anger fizzles and she bonds with him #its only after she thinks he betrayed or manipulated her thta shes cruel like season 3 #sokka is sceptical but tbh guys without katara holding a grudge in s3 zuko would assimilate into rhe gaang much easier pre s2 finale #katara can be mean but shes not cruel and she wouldnt be that awful

[altsvu]

long lost

pairing: peter stone x black!fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

summary: peter left you. but when he comes back it’s like he never left, if not better than that.

tw: smut smut smut (p in v sex, oral sex, teasing), fluff, a little angst

a/n: i love me some peter stone 🤭 yet once again this has been sitting in my notes for a long time, since 2020 actually… but we’re not gonna talk abt it. i think of this fic as a twist to the season 20 finale since it’s based on stone leaving. i got a little carried away with this one, i think this is my longest fic yet!

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“Peter, why do you have to leave?”

“I just have to. I lost perspective, so I need to move on for a little while.”

“But what do you mean? Peter, you’re not talking to me.”

“I can’t tell you right now. I will tell you, but I can’t now.”

You were going through a lot of different emotions at the same time. Frustration, sadness, anger even. Tears were forming in your eyes, and when the first one rolled down your cheek, it became instant waterworks.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I really am. I will talk to you soon,” Peter said, his eyes getting red and tearing up as well.

Before you could even answer, Peter gave you a quick hug and you watched him walk out the door with his packed duffel bag as if he was in a hurry.

That broke you.

✯✯✯✯

8 months later:

“We should call Liv.” You said.

“She has a thing, told us not to call her unless it’s urgent.” Kat said.

You stared at the text containing the lab results.

“We may have let one of the guilty men get away with a double rape and murder. This is pretty urgent to me.”

“Y/L/N...”

“If she gets upset then she gets upset.” You replied, pulling up Liv’s number and calling it.

“Y/N! What’s going on?” Liv asked.

“Lab results. We need to talk about them. And get new arrest warrants fast.”

“Are they that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll send you the address of where I am right now, you and Kat can meet me.”

“Thanks, Liv.” You said, hanging up.

“Call Carisi?”

You then looked to Kat, gunning the engine. “Yes. We’re going on a little trip.”

When you and Kat got to Liv’s location, you got a call from Melinda. You had asked her a favor that would help with the case.

“Melinda.” You said on the phone. Kat was ahead of you and you heard her greeting Liv. “Oh. Okay, okay... third person?... but they didn’t rape her... so he’s still guilty... okay, okay... thank you Melinda, I owe you.”

You sighed and looked back at the lab results once over then looked up to address Liv and Fin when you saw who was in front of you.

“Peter?” You asked. It had been 8 months since you saw him last. Probably even more than that.

To your knowledge, he left after the case against Rob Miller. You didn’t even want to think about that case the way it had you and the rest of your squad stressed out. You didn’t find out what really happened that made him leave until two months ago from Liv and you were still distraught that he didn’t have the balls to tell you about it.

You took a good look at him. He looked a little different but he was still his beautiful, sexy self and you loved that, despite everything.

“Y/N.” He smiled. He pulled you into his arms for a tight hug. You inhaled the scent of his cologne on his coat. He kissed the top of your head before letting you go. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Amazing.” He smiled.

“Hey, I hate to interrupt but what are the results?” Fin asked.

You opened your phone and Peter saw the lock screen of you and him at the annual gala a year and a half ago. He had his arm around you and was kissing you on the forehead. “There’s a third person. Melinda just told me. And we need to get the other man we let go the other day.”

“Good. Kat, where are we with arrest warrants?” Liv asked.

“I’ll call Carisi again.” she said, walking away from the group.

“So, the third guy, do we know who he is?”

“Yes. His only brother.” You replied.

“Carisi’s on board with the arrest warrants.” Kat said.

“And while you’re at it, ask him for the warrant for the brother too. Fin, go with them, they’ll need another person to arrest the men.”

“On it.” Fin said and got up from his seat.

You started towards the door when Peter took your hand.

“Hey. Maybe we can talk over a light meal or a drink later? Here’s my new number.” He whispered, sliding a card in your hand with his other hand.

You looked down at it for a bit, then looked back up at him. All your intimate memories with him started to rush back in and you prayed that you wouldn’t fold for him right on the spot, in front of all these people.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You whispered back. He pulled you in his arms again. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you Peter," you smiled, slightly getting on your tippy-toes and planting a light kiss on his jaw, a place that you loved kissing him on.

✯✯✯✯

You finally got home after a long evening processing the three suspects and taking their statements.

When you took off your jacket, the little card Peter gave you fell out of the pocket. You picked it up and stared at it long and hard. You missed him a lot and it would be nice to catch up with him.

“Hello?”

“Hey Peter, it’s me Y/N.”

“Y/N, oh, it’s so good to see and hear from you. I’m guessing you called to partake in my offer.”

“If it’s not too late?”

“It’s never too late, especially when it’s you.”

“You’re sweet. Today was super stressful, I’m lucky I have tomorrow off. I wouldn’t mind spending my night with you.” You said in a flirty tone. Accidentally.

“That’s great. You can tell me all about your day, you know I would love to hear it all. I’ll pick you up in 30, I figure you just got home?”

“Yes I did, sounds amazing. Thank you for this Peter. I really needed it.”

It was super cold considering that it was only fall, but you still decided to wear one of your more sexier matching bra and panty sets, which you only wore those for special occasions.

This was a special occasion.

You put on a thick ivory colored turtleneck sweater dress, sheer tights and black above the knee boots. To top it off, you put on your oversized trench coat along with your dainty earrings and a black fur hat.

You looked at your makeup in the mirror. You didn’t do anything dramatic, just a simple brown liner/lip gloss combo, and you redid your concealer and mascara. Peter definitely loved that lip combo on you.

You continued applying finishing touches to your look when you heard your doorbell ring. You went to the door to see Peter with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a big smile on his face.

“Hi, thank you.” You smiled, taking the roses from his hand and placing them on your counter, making a mental note to put them in sugar water when you got back.

“Of course,” he said, pulling you into another hug. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just get my coat.”

✯✯✯✯

“Hey, get comfortable. It’s warm in here.” Peter said.

You slipped off your jacket and fur hat, then sat down to slip off your boots.

“Room service should be coming soon, but I have some wine here for us in the meantime.” Peter said, sitting next to you pouring two glasses.

He was wearing the same clothes he was wearing earlier, just without the coat and suit jacket.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered after handing you your glass. “Did I forget to tell you that?”

You pushed some of your curls behind your ear. “You’re so sweet.”

He smiled at you as he was pouring his glass. There was a bit of silence as you two were enjoying the first few sips of wine.

“So, how have things been working out at SVU?”

“Things have been going pretty good. Finally we’re not as short staffed as before.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah very. What about you? What’s been going on in your life?”

“Besides being here with you after six months, nothing much. In all honesty, I’m just glad to back. I went back to Chicago, spent some time by myself, worked in a small law firm for a bit. It was nice, but not all that amazing.”

“Well, I’m glad you were doing good when you were in Chicago.”

“I had to do something, right?” He smiled, laying down on the bed.

You laughed a bit, taking another sip of wine.

“How are you, though?”

You took a few more sips and turned to look in Peter’s eyes.

“I... don’t know.” You whispered. “These past few months were hard for me, but I just pushed my emotions aside. Besides that... I’ve had my good days.”

Peter was silent for a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come here.” He whispered, opening his arm out for you. You crawled in his arms.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind. I shouldn’t have left you period. For the first two months I was there, I couldn’t get that memory of you crying out of my head. I couldn’t even bear to call you because of how terrible I made you feel. I couldn’t even tell you what really happened that forced my hand to leave.”

You sighed. “What happened after?”

“I don’t know, after that I honestly thought you hated me and you didn’t want to hear from me. You looked so happy when you were posting on social media and- I don’t know, Y/N, it was hard.”

He told you what happened 8 months ago following the Rob Miller case in full detail, and although you already knew what happened, it felt reassuring hearing it in his words, his point of view.

“I understand. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.”

He turned and looked at you. “Anything.”

“Despite everything that we’ve been through, our ups and down, just everything... I love you Peter. I still do.”

“I love you too.” He responded. Peter moved closer to you and gave you a kiss on your lips. It enabled you to kiss him back, and give him even more kisses. You and him then rolled around in bed, kissing each other more when one of Peter’s hands went up your dress, touching your bare body.

“You’re wearing one of your special occasion lingerie.”

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“After months of being intimate with you, I think I’ve figured out your tricks. Like this.”

He pulled down your tights a bit and traced his finger around the rose tattoo that was along your bikini line.

“There’s one more that you don’t know about.” You whispered, pulling off your tights. You then got off the bed and went to the mirror that was in the room.

You slowly removed your dress, revealing your body that Peter longed for. You saw him coming up to you from behind.

“You know how I feel about the lingerie you’re wearing.”

“I know. That’s why I wore it.” You whispered. You felt the outline of his length slightly press against your lower back.

“I’m glad. I think you missed me a lot.” He whispered. He ran his fingers along your back tattoo, the Chinese symbols for pleasure and love. He then kissed it lightly. “Pleasure and love.”

“I got it a month after you left. I guess it was kind of a way for me to relieve some of the pain. It didn’t really work the way I wanted to, as you probably know.”

“Hey,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I’m here now, and I don’t ever want to leave you again.”

You twisted around and you kissed him passionately. You turned back to face the mirror.

“And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Well, while we’re here...” Peter started. You felt his hands move to your bra hooks. “The lingerie is beautiful, but there’s something else I find more beautiful.” He slowly removed the hooks one at a time until they were all off. Going to the straps, he slid them off one by one, giving you chills because of how slow he was doing so.

Your bra was completely off and you let Peter cup one of your breasts in his hand. His free hand slid down to your underwear, massaging your opening.

“You’re already wet for me, huh?” He whispered against your skin. His lips brushed your skin ever so slightly and it gave you chills.

“Mmm, yeah.” You smiled, getting pleasure from Peter’s massages.

You turned around after he pulled his fingers out of you underwear. He kissed you starting from your lips to your waist, pulling down your underwear. He kissed your bikini line, licking the rose tattoo. When he got back up, he had his hands on you bare hips.

“I missed this in Chicago.” He said.

“Well this time’s worth the wait.” You smiled. You took the liberty of helping Peter out of his clothes, then you pushed Peter to the bed and as he moved to the middle of the bed, you got on top of him.

“Please, I want to come inside you.” He pleaded, starting to adjust himself to your opening.

You let him go inside you, and it was the best feeling ever. He had his hands on your butt, squeezing it as you thrusted faster and faster.

“Fuck Peter, I don’t think you understand how much I missed this.” You breathed hard, tossing your head back.

Peter kissed your chest and your boobs, one by one, giving you goosebumps.

“Me too. You’re so beautiful, I could fuck you all night.”

You sat back up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I can make that arrangement.”

“Good.” He whispered. You continued thrusting faster, which made Peter reach his climax much faster. You could see the tears forming in his eyes. “Y/N,” He pleaded as you were thrusting. “Please, let me come inside you. I’m almost there.”

You felt a wave of relief rushing through your body as you and Peter had reached your climaxes.

He pulled out and took a deep breath. He looked at you calming down from your climax. You took his hand and pulled him closer to you.

“How’s that for being in Chicago?”

“Much better than any sex we’ve had since we met.” Peter whispered, slowly pushing his two fingers inside you. Your lips parted and you leaned back as he pushed inside you and teased your pulsing pearl, feeling another rush flow through your body. He watched you and caressed your cheek as moans and whimpers escaped your mouth. He admired every single thing about your body, from you baby soft face, your smile, the legs that he always longed to open after a long Friday after work, and so much more.

He then went to the end of your body and held your legs up. You felt his tongue on your folds licking up all of the juices you produced. His tongue was encircling your clit and you were getting even more aroused.

“Do you want me inside you again?”

You breathed out yes and teased you first before he pushed inside you. He ordered you to look at him, he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. He praised you excessively, telling you that you looked beautiful, that he wanted you all to himself, and even that you were his baby girl and you were doing so good for him. That sent you over the edge.

“Peter…” you moaned. You felt yourself reaching another high under him.

“Are you gonna come all over me? It’s okay.” Peter smiled. “I love it when you do that.”

You smiled back at him and felt the last wave of relief move through your body as your hips rolled.

“Ugh now I feel embarrassed.” You laughed.

“Why? It’s a natural part of arousal.” Peter smiled, pulling out.

“I know, it’s just... I haven’t done it in a while. Not with anyone else, at least.” You admitted, getting up going towards the bathroom.

“Wait.” Peter whispered, going after you.

“Yes, Peter, I have a dildo, okay?” You whispered back. “And no, it’s not the same experience compared to when I’m with you. Even though I think about- you know what, we’re not gonna talk about it anymore.” You walked into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You thought of me, didn’t you?” Peter asked, coming up behind you.

“Yes.”

Peter’s hands tickled your waist. “You missed me so much, Y/N. It’s okay.”

“Jesus, Peter.” You laughed. “Of course I did. Now let me pee.”

“Okay okay.” He sneaked a kiss on your neck before you slipped out of his arms and went to use the bathroom. He then went to turn on the shower. “You should join me after.” He said to you before hopping in.

When you finished, you slipped in the shower.

“I know the hotel doesn’t have the exquisite shower products that you have back at your place, but a simple rag and bar soap can suffice for now.”

You were standing under the water for a bit, using the soap he gave you. “You remembered.”

“I mean, yeah. Going to your place on a Friday night was my favorite part of the week. And God, that shower.” Peter smiled, cleaning you off first.

“It sounds like you want to recreate that night.” You said, stepping closer to him.

“Maybe I do.” He said, placing the soap and washcloth in the caddy after you finished cleaning him off. “Come here.” he then whispered. You stepped closer to him and he picked you up.

“Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You leaned in to kiss him and it turned into a make-out session. Your legs curled around his body.

“You wanna get outta here?” Peter whispered.

“Mhm.”

“Okay.”

Peter turned off the water and stepped out, draping a towel around both of your bodies. He grabbed two robes and carried you back into the room. You got off of him and dried yourself off.

“Do you wanna wear one of my shirts? Or one of my boxers?

“I’ll wear both.” You said.

After the two of you finished getting dressed, you decided to cuddle with Peter in bed.

“Peter?”

“Hmm?” He asked, running a finger down your arm.

“You never did order room service, did ya?”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu, @averyhotchner, @ssaic-jareau, @blackbeautifulqueen, @deiondraaa, @wandas-wife

#altsvu #altsvu oneshots #law and order svu #law and order svu fandom #law and order svu special victims unit #law and order special victims unit #law and order fic #law and order fanfiction #peter stone #peter stone x you #peter stone x reader #peter stone x black!fem!reader #peter stone x y/n #ada peter stone #peter stone fanfic #peter stone fic #peter stone fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu fic #svu fanfiction #svu fic #svu x reader #law and order special victims unit fanfiction #svu fandom #law and order fandom #peter stone fandom #ada stone #ada peter stone fanfiction

[fiapartridge]

i love this au with all my heart so i am begging for a soft slow morning with will and daisy

bye i love u sunny and ollie have my entire heart

(takes place at their apartment in sj after college)

Slow mornings with Will were always the best. It felt like life was always a speeding train, always off to the next destination. There was barely ever a moment where it was simply just Will and Daisy, so this morning was definitely a shock when Will’s loud alarm clock didn’t ring repeatedly. Instead, it was 8 o’clock and the bedroom was silent other than Will’s soft snores and Daisy’s legs rustling the white comforter as she scooted closer to Will, their bodies facing each other and their arms attached, but still leaving a couple inches of space, like a distant hug.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Will let out a yawn, fluttering his own open and smiling upon seeing Daisy. He’s usually up and getting dressed by the time she wakes up, so seeing her there laying underneath the comforter with him was nice– actually, it was greater than nice. It was perfect. Slow mornings like this were always perfect.

“D’you want me to make you a cup?” Daisy yawned, taking in the light bags beneath Will’s tired eyes. The Sharks were definitely working him, getting him prepared for the new season, but when has he ever had the chance to just… rest? Not ice baths and saunas with the boys, not massages from their team massage therapist, but actually slept for a full eight hours in his own bed in his own home?

Not waiting for an answer, Daisy turned around, letting her freshly-shaved legs from last night slip under the sheets and into the cool air. 

Before she could fully make it out of bed, Will had her torso in his arms and his chin on her shoulder, placing soft kisses on her neck. She sighed, relaxing her body into his. “Stay in bed,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

Daisy wanted to pamper Will to her fullest extent. She was all about female-empowerment and not doing anything or taking any shit from men, but she felt like she owed Will at least something. He pays most of the rent for the apartment, cooks dinner, cleans the house, always has a bath ready for Daisy before bed— she just wanted to do something. Something to show that she cares about him just as much as he cares about her.

“I should turn down the AC, you’re freezing,” she said.

“Please,” he gently kissed her flushed cheek. “Let’s just stay here.” He said it as if staying there was the most important thing he was going to do all week; as if it was something that had to be done; like his day would be ruined if they didn’t stay in that bed together — even only for a few minutes. And so Daisy gave in, realizing that if she wanted to do anything for Will, it’s this. Not everything has to be materialized or repaid in chores, but simply spending time together is the best form of repayment. 

Except that Daisy enjoyed it, too.

They snuggled closer in bed, her head resting upon his bare chest as she listened to him talk softly, explaining the logistics of getting a dog and why they should definitely have one. They talked about all of the places they would take their dog, where the dog could sleep, who would take care of the dog if they were on an important trip together, what they would name the dog.

Still mornings like these were everything. And sure, they would have things to do later, but none of that mattered, because right now it was just Will and Daisy, and that was the best thing of all.

#perreault!sister x will smith

[4townie]

Road to 4☆TOWN

part 1…part 10…part 20…part 30

Z narrowed his eyes when he opened the door. “You.”

“Hey, bff.” Taeyoung pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. “How’s your sister been treating you?”

“Why are you asking about my—OOF!” Z was interrupted by Olivia head butting him. “LIVVY!”

“Wow, you’re right. I got a real charge out of that.” Olivia smiled brightly. “And to think I’ve been sticking to embarrassing him in front of his boyfriend all these years.”

“Now that is an art you’ve mastered that I haven’t.” Taeyoung said as he stepped inside. “Perhaps you can teach me your ways.” He slung an arm around her shoulder.

Olivia blushed and she started giggling. “T-That would be amazingly cool.”

“Ugh, I can’t stand seeing you two together.” Z rolled his eyes. “What do you get out of being so chaotic anyway?”

“It’s so satisfying.” Olivia answered as she very carefully started holding Taeyoung’s hand. “Who would I even be if I wasn’t bugging you or Lijah all the time?”

“Besides, you know me.” Taeyoung subconsciously shook Olivia’s hand off of his and moved his arm away from her. “Chaos is my love language.”

“It’s your what?” Olivia’s eyes widened.

“Oh by the way.” Taeyoung pulled a box of Pocky out of his sweater pocket. “For you and that adorable boyfriend of yours.” He winked.

“Ewww, you think I’m gonna kiss him when he’s sick?” Z took the Pocky with a look of disgust.

“I AM NOT SICK!” T yelled as loud as he could with a hoarse voice and a stuffy nose. “It’s allergy season and the pollen count is high today.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can give me all the tea and soup and drugs you want. Pollen has far more power.”

“You want me to go to the store and get you that allergy medicine that always helps?” Taeyoung offered.

“You have an allergy medicine that solves this?” Z raised an eyebrow.

T was quiet for a moment. “I forgot.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Tae-Tae, you would be a lifesaver if you got it for me. I’d owe you every hug and cheek pinch in the world.”

“And you’ll let me put volcanic ash on your face next time I sleep over?” Taeyoung’s eyes brightened.

“Volcanic ash?” Z and Olivia looked at him in confusion.

“He has a lot of Korean skincare products that he brings up every time he wants to tell me my skin is shit.” T waved a hand nonchalantly. “Yes, Tae, you can fix my skin if you save my nose and throat.”

“EEP!” Taeyoung squealed. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Wait!” Olivia followed him. “I wanna go, too.”

“Nope.” Z shook his head. “Nuh-uh. No way.”

“Why not?” Taeyoung crossed his arms. “She’s hardly a kid anymore. Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Z focused his gaze on Olivia.

Olivia groaned. “Aaron—”

“Babe.” T called him. “She can and will tackle you to the ground again if you get in her way right now. Trust me, she’ll be fine.”

Z narrowed his eyes. “Fine, but only because the way you’re handling this makes me wanna use this Pocky.”

T gave him a flirty smirk. “Is that so?”

“Okay, we’re out.” Taeyoung grabbed Olivia’s wrist and pulled her out the door. “Remember we’ll only be gone for twenty minutes so try to be normal by the time we get back.”

T and Z both hummed an absentminded response as they put a Pocky stick between them.

“Ugh, they’re so annoying.” Taeyoung rolled his eyes as he shut the door. “It’s almost as if they don’t know they have two adorable younger siblings watching them.” He smirked evilly. “That’s why they deserve to get tormented.”

“Yeah.” Olivia agreed with a ridiculous grin. “I love how much you love chaos.”

Taeyoung stared at her. “Gee, no one’s ever told me that before. Thanks, Squirt.” He shrugged. “Now let’s get moving cuz I’m very interested in those wedding photos you promised to show me over the phone.”

“I’m so excited to show you.” Olivia wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they started walking down the hall. “It feels like the start of something new.”

Taeyoung chuckled almost condescendingly. “Livvy, we’ve known each other for like three years now.”

#4town fanfic #4town headcanons #4town taeyoung #4town aaron t #4town z #4town robaire #4town jesse #turning red #turning red 4town #4town #4townie

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise

Chapter Twenty-One: Orphans of Dragonstone Description: Saera Targaryen was her father's forgotten daughter. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her sister and seeks solace in the arms of her uncle. Not realizing that the consequence of their affair is just as dire as her sister's. masterlist

<<previous chapter

SAERA DECIDED ON HAVING DAEMON WITH HER ON DRAGON-BACK, but even so she refused to speak to him. She ignored his complaints as she saddles him unto Melarys — watching as Caraxes looked at them with confusion. Daemon was drunk, and there was no way he'd be riding tonight. "Are you sure that Melarys can carry our weight?" Daemon slurs as Saera places her son in another saddle. 

Melarys was the smallest full-grown dragon, though it allowed for her to be swift and silent — it left her defenseless under the attack of bigger dragons. "Better than having you ride drunk." she replied pressing a kiss on his head and allowing him to slump comfortably on the saddle. She was still disappointed with him — but her rage wouldn't last long. 

A dragon lands in the far fields — Aemond's eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the figure. The dragon walks towards them, dragging his tail and making a mark of the soil. Saera's grip on Daelon tightened, her eyes frowning in visible uncomfortableness. She didn't want to fight — not when she didn't have her sister beside her. 

Alyssa lets out a sigh of relief as she realizes who descends from the beast. It was her brother, Daegon. She runs towards him and gives him a warm hug. Missing his presence dearly. Saera smiles at her son, gently ruffling his hair and staring at the dragon. "You've claimed a dragon," she smiles as Daegon gives Rhaena a comforting stare. 

Out of all the children, Rhaena was the only one dragon-less. 

Rhaena takes a step towards them. "A wild dragon," she mutters and Daegon nods — watching as Caraxes roars at Lucerian. He places a hand on her forearm, comforting her. "We must leave now," Saera claims as she watches the Lights of Kingslanding from behind her. There was no doubt that they would label her as a traitor. 

She looks at her son, remembering the words of her sick father. 

Daegon must be King. 

But how could her son be king? When he prefers a book rather than a sword, and when he's known no other season but summer. He still had more to learn about the world — he does not deserve the whammies and betrayal of court. He was his own person — not a weak shadow of a king. 

"What happened?" Daegon asks looking at Daemon who was sleeping on top of Melarys. "There's not much time to explain, but we must ride to Dragonstone." Alyssa replies climbing on top of Bluefyre and helping Rhaena to sit behind her. 

Daegon looks at his mother, who smiles softly. "Listen to your sister," she commands as she places a soft kiss on his cheek. Before breaking free and walking towards her dragon. She didn't wish to tell her son about the injustice that has happened — she didn't want to hurt him twice. 

Daegon follows — though he felt confusion. His mother hated Dragonstone for it held memories that she scorned, in all of Daegon's life his foot has never stepped into the ancient castle. He walks towards his dragon once more, riding it and following after Vhagar who was already in the air. 

IT WAS ALREADY MORNING WHEN THEY DESCENDED INTO DRAGONSTONE. By this time, Daemon was sober and the reality of his stupidity began to creep in. Saera could notice that he was sober, hence she ignored his advances at apologizing. 

Melarys landed in the thick field of Dragonstone, watching as Rhaenyra walked towards the courtyard with confusion. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" she questioned, still in her night-clothes. Jace followed after his mother, watching as the White Dragons landed in their castle. 

Saera freezes and her throat began to feel dry. The sisters weren't close — but they bonded over motherhood. Losing Lucerys would break Rhaenyra and no warmth would save her again. She looks at Daemon whose hair was still out of place — his hands were bandaged, but he still wore that signature smirk of his. 

His face softens as he finds his place beside his wife, looking at her as she tried to calm their son down. "Lucerys he—" Saera tried to find the right words and Rhaenyra raises her eyebrows. "Yes? Is he here?" she asked, her eyes searching the yard for Arrax. 

"He was poisoned, my princess." Daegon replies as he descended from his dragon. His eyes were cast low, and his figure remained rigid. Rhaenyra gasps, her hands finding itself holding her son for stability. Her eyes began to be wet with tears, and her heart beat furiously with rage. 

Lucerys — her summer son, the sweet boy with round cheeks and brown eyes was robbed blind of life. Saera walks towards her sister, kneeling beside her on the ground. There was no hate in her, only feelings of utmost guilt for she was unable to bring Luce justice. 

"Larys poisoned him — I-I tried to bring him justice but Alicent and the Hightowers would not let me." she explained as Rhaenyra clasped her chest in agony. She cried this way when Harwin died — now she was bound to feel it again. Daemon reaches for Daelon and takes him from Saera's hold — allowing the sisters to share an embrace. 

Alyssa kneeled beside her mother and aunt, comfortingly rubbing circles on Rhaenyra's back. "My son will be avenged. Lucerys will be avenged." Rhaenyra cried out letting her family comfort her. Daegon mourned for his cousin, who was rumored to be his brother. 

Daemon's eyes turned dark and his jaw clenched, his eyes watching as his nephew held his beloved sword. Aemond takes a deep breath, "And I will bring you their heads," he whispered watching as the sword reflected his features. His broken eye didn't hold an eye-patch, but instead a black-diamond was in it's place. 

His eye was taken by Lucerys. And now he was going to avenge the boy's life. 

His eyes moved towards his uncle as Daemon's glare darkens. "My sword," he whispered not hoping to ruin the moment between the girls. "My good-mother let me borrow it," Aemond whispered in return as his lips formed a smug smile. "Asshole." Daemon muttered under his breath as Aemond crosses his arms cooly. 

"Thank you, father." he replied as Daemon places a hand on his shoulders. Allowing for his hands to rest harshly, the weight of it causing hurt. "It's nothing son." he breathed as he slaps the boy's shoulder. 

next chapter>>

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[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 20: Limbo: Katsu’s accident temporarily pauses the investigation, but Mitsuhide proves to be a great nurse.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

CW: Flashback to parent death/suicide

“She's not dead. Oh Gods… I thought she was dead.”

“Katsuko – you could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t, though.” I broke into my energy bar stash and offered him one.

He pushed it away. “I’m done.”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Wait. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” But he hugged me in spite of his harsh tone. “I can’t keep watching you chase death.”

Toshiie? Where are we?

Is this how she felt? Is this what my mother had lived with every day? The unrelenting greyness that muffled all sound, blinded sight, reached inside and amplified everything dark, muffled everything bright? Had it been like this before? Too long had passed since my last journey through the wormhole. It was familiar, and yet not. No. This was not what I remembered. I could see nothing but grey. The fog invaded my eyes, my lungs, my throat. It was… My fingers were getting numb… I couldn’t feel my toes. I couldn’t feel. I could sense nothing. How could I escape from a place that appeared to be part of me? I was as one with the fog. There wasn’t a step I could take, a direction I could move that would separate me from the grey. Someone looking at me would only see a fading shadow, perhaps darker in some places, and translucent in others. The darkness would fade last.

"Kaya. Open your eyes." The voice was insistent enough that I tried and-

Ow. No. Hurt.

…Me against the mountain. The bright snow and crisp wind, sailing on the board, trusting my balance, my mastery, my freedom.  At the top of the pipe, I twisted and… crap! Over rotated, misjudged the run... and I tumbled into the hard packed snow in the bowl of the half pipe.

The few other early season boarders let out an ‘ooh’ of sympathy. Yeah, that's going to leave a mark. A headache began at the base of my skull and slush slid down my back.

Time to pack it in for the day.

Happy Birthday to me. It wasn't literally my birth date. That had been, six weeks ago. Toshiie and I had had a small dinner at home, with only our mother as a guest, though I knew that Toshiie had celebrated the night before with his boyfriend. Mom lasted through three bites of the cheesecake I'd made for the three of us, then retreated to her room, leaving Toshiie and me to pretend that was had been planned after all. After a few moments of awkwardly staring at her closed bedroom door, we gave up and instead found a movie to stream.

But that was six weeks ago. I was over it. Today I had been determined to have a belated celebration just for myself, the way I liked to spend my time, testing myself against the sky ...  although my plan hadn’t included wiping out on the half pipe.

Oh well. First snow of the season. Always takes a couple of runs to get the kinks out.

While waiting for the bus to take me back to town, I remembered to turn my phone back on, only to see a stack of increasingly frantic texts from my brother. Shit. Guess they'd found out I wasn't at the library studying.

I considered ignoring the messages (new phone who dis), but it would only be postponing the inevitable. I braced myself and called him back.

"Where are you?" Weird. Toshiie never skipped the greeting. That was my gig.

"Mount Kosha. Waiting for the bus.” With about one hundred other people. Hopefully, I would get a seat. My headache had become impossible to ignore.

His sigh of disgust sent the pain ricocheting around my skull. "I'm sending a taxi to you. Take it."

"What? Why?'' My words went in to the void; he'd already hung up.He’d sounded on the edge of crying, though and my stomach began to twist in anxiety, especially when my attempts to call him back went unanswered. Still. Toshiie sometimes went from zero to full catastrophe in seconds. It could be something simple. Maybe… maybe he broke up with his boyfriend?  

I peeled away from the bus stop and migrated to the taxi lot, put on my airpods and tried to push away my worry with a bit of music. My normal k-pop playlist increased my headache, so I poked around the satellite radio networks and found a “Music for Yoga” station. Maybe a dose of New Age flute would clear away the pain.

The lilting tune did little to ease my headache, but as the cab took me back to Nagano, I found the music hypnotic. Relaxing. It was as if it was pulling me somewhere else, calling me to come…

… home?

But home was little more than a slightly shabby nondescript apartment building, parallel to an equally non-descript building. In between the two structures was a small playground with rusty slide and swing set. We’d never played on those though … when we moved here we were already too old for playgrounds. So I was surprised to see Toshiie sitting on one of the swings when I arrived. His head was down, and he kicked his feet in the dirt.

As soon as I got out of the cab, he rushed over, yanked me into a fierce hug, and buried his face on my shoulder. Behind him, the swing he’d hastily abandoned was still moving, back and forth, and side to side, as if propelled by an invisible cyclone. "She's dead."

I didn’t process what he said at first. Instead, I watched that abandoned swing rotating wildly, as his words whirled inside my head, pinging back and forth against my aching skull. What? Who?

Then, I knew. Mom. Of course mom. "Did... Um... were you the one who found her?" Had she been dead even before I'd crept out of the house at an early hour? I should have checked on her – usually I do before I leave. But usually, I’m not sneaking out to snowboard.

I should have been the one to find her. It wouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, but Tosh... Tosh always thought she was going to snap out of it when her dark days came. Me. I knew she wouldn’t.

"Yes – I tried CPR, but it was already too late." His voice was muffled in my shoulder. "I should have checked on her earlier.”

It wouldn’t have mattered. It would never have mattered. She was always going to do this. But I couldn’t say any of that, so I hung on to the hug, patting his back, trying to ignore the feeling of release. At least now, the wondering was over.

"Kaya, wake up." Two Mitsuhides were floating over my head. The pain was… no I couldn’t focus without it hurting. I closed my eyes to the pain. “Who?"

New phone who dis?

Later, I don't know how much later, I felt something cool touch my cheek. Ok yes, that’s good. I blinked open for a sec, and it was Sho, washing my face. "Kaya! Thank you for saving Hiko!" There was a smothering hug, and a stab of pain, and... Why does she keep calling me Kaya? I hate that name.

I’m just going to sleep again.

It was dark for a while. The soft strains of a flute reached out, around, a cloud bank of music. Nice. I must have found that Music for Yoga station again.

"Katsuko." The room was still dark, but I knew Mitsuhide's voice.

"Nooo. Let me sleep." I batted his hand away.

"I will. Be patient, Brat. The strange doctor Shojumaru found said I should wake you up periodically." He mumbled something else under his breath, but I was in too much pain to concentrate on that.

Ugh. My entire life savings for aspirin.

"If you are able to drink it, I have some willow bark tea for the pain." I felt a hand under my back, lifting me slightly, cradling my weight, while a slight bitterness dripped onto my lips.

My turn to have willow bark. I used to be the one forcing it on people.

“There’s no way to make this into a tea, so you’re going to have to chew on this for a little while.”

“What… does it taste like?” Even half out of breath, there was deep suspicion in his voice.

"Katsuko. Wake up." Who was that talking? I only saw a blur with white hair.

"Go away ghost." I tried to turn over to avoid the light, and a wave of pain swept through me, instantly receding on a rush of nausea. No. I couldn’t throw up in my own bed.  "Let me sleep," I begged the ghost.

There was a soft touch untangling my hair, and a cool gel of some kind on my cheek.

Wth a gentle touch, he lightly massaged the ointment onto my cheekbone. The warmth of his finger combined with the cool of the salve – the sensation was not unpleasant at all. It felt little like a butterfly was dancing on my skin, and I involuntarily shivered as his touch reverberated through me.

“Did I hurt you?” Mitsunari’s voice was in my ear; he sounded concerned.

“No.” I hurried to reassure him. “It tickled, actually.” Tickled wasn’t quite what I meant, but there didn’t seem to be an adequate word in my vocabulary for the feeling his tenderness had evoked.

He continued the treatment, smoothing another layer across, and I squashed a rogue desire to lean into his hand as if I were Kitty. “There. Done.”

I opened my eyes to see Mitsunari’s serious gaze right in front of me. His palm was still pressed to my cheek. Then he jerked his hand away, as if he’d been shocked. Quickly, he lurched backward and jumped to his feet.

"Katsuko. Time to wake up again, Brat." Mitsuhide had returned. This time there was only one of him. An improvement, I guess.

"Where did your friend go?"

"The healer?" He frowned. "Do you think you can sit up long enough to drink this?" He held a cup out to me. "It's gone cold, but Sho would happily brew up an entire vat if I asked."

"Cold is fine." Willow bark. Fume used to make me strip acres of it for her own medicinal stock. Mitsuhide helped me sit up enough to sip the cup. The room tilted, then spun when I moved and I closed my eyes. The nausea arrived with the pain, but the tea would help. Hopefully. "Where did you find willow bark?"

"Shojumaru brought it." Mitsuhide sounded slightly surprised by that. Huh. For that matter, so was I. "Do you recall what happened?"

For a moment we were all quiet. I lined up another shot, my attention fully on the sound of the air and the rustle of the leaves, and it was quiet enough to hear something else – the twang of another bow string in the distance.

I didn’t need to look to know there would be an arrow heading for us, and I was yelling a warning even before I turned to see Yoshimoto move faster than I had ever seen him move, grab Mai’s arm and dive left, covering her with his body, while I somersaulted to the right, landing hard on a rock, as –

The arrow thudded into the ground right past Mai had been standing. If Yoshimoto hadn’t pulled her out of its path, it would have buried itself in her heart.

"Arrow." No. Wait. Where were all these strange visions coming from? "Runaway cart. Is Hiko all right?" The scene blurred in my mind. I could see the ox, but the moment before that was blank.

"He is fine. Apparently Shojumaru is sufficiently attached to the boy to be grateful." I couldn’t tell whether or not Mitsuhide found that information helpful due to the procurement of medical supplies or if he planned to make use of that gratitude. In another situation, I might have asked, but at the moment, I simply wanted to go to sleep again.

So I did.

The next time I surfaced, it was daylight again. This time I had awakened without anyone prompting me. My head still ached when I tried to focus my vision on anything in particular, but I had the sense that-

!

Yes, that was Mitsuhide next to me on the bed. He was lying on his side, with his head propped up on his arm. He stared down at me wordlessly, and brushed my hair out of my face, his touch as gentle as-

“Feathers.” Since it still hurt too much to do anything else, I curled into him and went back to sleep.

How much time had passed since morning? It was impossible to tell. Sho had brought me some soup and insisted I take it, saying that I needed to eat. I likely would have refused, but her statement was backed up by Mitsuhide’s implacable stare.

Bad decision. After I sat up and swallowed a small amount, the liquid boiled in my stomach. "Oh hell. I'm going to-"

With a shriek, she rushed for a bucket, and thrust it in front of me while Mitsuhide kept my hair out of the way and gently rubbed my back. The soup left me faster than it entered. I felt helpless, prisoner to the constant ache in my skull and the convulsions in my stomach. This was worse than any flu or food poisoning I’d ever had. At least with the flu, there was the knowledge that eventually, it would run its course.

When the wave finally subsided, I felt spent and exhausted. Mitsuhide held me against him while he helped me take a couple sips of cold tea, and then I lay back down, completely out of energy, and yet not able this time to go back to sleep. If I kept myself very very still, maybe everything would stop hurting.

"Thank you." I heard Sho's soft footsteps padding away, leaving me alone with Mitsuhide. "How long has it been?" Time had been blurred, I felt like I'd been both thrown into the past and at the same time futures that didn’t exist.

"Since you picked a fight with a runaway cart? Three days. Some of your bruises all already fading." His fingers lightly skimmed across my cheek. "I imagine your head will feel better soon as well."

I hoped so. Concussion… that’s probably what I had, but of course there was no word for that in this time.

"Do you think a strong scent will make you feel sick?" Mitsuhide's voice came from further away and I heard a bit of a clanking. It sounded like a ceramic jar, maybe, but I wasn’t willing to test opening my eyes again.

"Maybe." There had been a bit of a fishy smell to the soup. But the scent of the herbal tea hadn’t been triggering.

I heard a rustle, then the side of the futon dipped slightly. Very briefly, the scent of something minty wafted past. "What about this scent?"

"So far it seems tolerable," The scent came closer, stronger.

"And now?" I felt his breath across my ear.

"Still fine. As long as I don't move or open my eyes. Why?" The question was automatic, although I suspected what he had planned.

"This oil may help with the pain, but if I put it on you, I don't want it to make you ill again." The scent was closer still, right under my nose, fresh and sharp, and I realized something was missing. He no longer had that scent of incense clinging to him. He must have bathed and laundered his clothing. "May I?"

"Yes." If it would stop the men with spears from hurling them back and forth in my skull, it would be lovely.

Very gently, almost imperceptibly, one finger traced small circles at my temple, drawing a line from there to a spot behind my ear. The mint oil left a trail of coolness, soothing the angry nerve endings. The pain didn’t go away, but it subsided enough to help me relax. "That's nice."

He lightly applied more oil to the side of my neck, the top of my shoulders, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Interesting. That response makes me curious to see what would happen if we employed this oil in other situations." That teasing note was finally back in his voice. He wouldn’t tease me if he thought I was in any serious danger, which was a relief. I mean it wasn't like I thought I was going to die either. If this head injury was going to kill me it would have done so already, right?

It was only belatedly that I realized what exactly he was teasing me about, "Great. Let me know how it turns out." Not my usual, but hey give me credit for any snark at all when I have a concussion.

"You would know long before that," At least that’s possibly what he said. I was already halfway into sleep again.

I wish I could say that recovery from that concussion was as easy as recovery from a cold. Though the constant headache and nausea receded within a week, it came back whenever I tried to do anything strenuous. Reading. Reading was strenuous. Though I had never been much of a reader, being stuck in bed was boring, and reading material would have helped distract me from my thoughts.

Even worse than the boredom was the feeling that I was always on the verge of crying or losing my temper. The third time I tried to read and the text blurred in front of me had brought me to tears. Luckily neither Sho nor Mitsuhide had been in the room at the time. Maybe it was illogical, but I couldn’t get past the conviction that all the things I used to be able to do were gone and would never return.

That fear, and a fear that I was holding up Mitsuhide’s investigation, propelled me out of bed.

As it had been practice and repetition that had given me all those skills to start with, well, then, I only needed to practice and work hard to make sure they were retained. With that in mind, I made my way back to the room that had been mine when I first moved in, before Mitsuhide banned me from window access.

I'd been able to eat the past few days, so the effort of walking down that hideous red and black corridor didn’t even have me out of breath. (Not much anyway). I only wanted to look out the window, to visualize what it would be like to climb out and make my way through the city across the rooftops. To remember what it had felt like to be powerful and free. To test myself against the sky.

But even the act of looking down inspired such a feeling of vertigo, that the room spun around me and-

"What do you think you're doing over there?" Mitsuhide's voice was sharp with disapproval.

Before the words were out of his mouth, he had crossed the room and scooped me up in his arms. "It's been barely a week since your head injury. Even someone as reckless as you would not think of climbing out the window."

"I wasn't." I slumped against his shoulder as he hauled me back to my room, all previous energy having vanished in the dizziness. "I only wanted to know if… to see if..." I couldn’t figure out how to explain it, and then to my complete horror, I burst into tears as he put me back down on the bed. "Just leave me alone."

Crying was bad enough. Crying in front of Mitsuhide? Kill. Me. Now.

@lorei-writes @selenacosmic @bestbryn @lyds323 @tele86 @akitsuneswife

#tw suicide #tw parent death #10things #10 things I hate about mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku fanfic #mitsuhide akechi #katsuverse #cw suicide #cw parental death #hurt/comfort

[fallinallincurls]

I Found Joy In My Life

do i have like a million other wips i need to finish? yes. did i write this totally new idea in one sitting instead? you bet! i absolutely love this fic and it’s the first i’ve finished in quite some time which is very exciting!

this one is inspired by andy grammer’s song joy which screams nate to me and is currently on repeat because i love it that much. you’ll see some of the lyrics worked in throughout the fic too!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 4.4k+

~~~~~

Me and fear, we had a thing in 1993

Told me I was wasting time with all these silly dreams

I dated doubt, she knocked me down every time I tried

“The Colorado Avalanche are proud to select, with our first pick, from the Halifax Mooseheads, Nathan MacKinnon.” Joe Sakic’s words echo throughout the Prudential Center and applause breaks out in an instant, but Nate remains seated for a few seconds longer, unable to process what’s happening. 

The team he’s always dreamed of playing for picked him first, picked him over every other eligible player sitting in this very arena. Nate can’t wrap his head around it. He was just drafted first overall. After all the speculation over the last year of who would actually be picked first, names constantly thrown around by hockey analysts or general fans leading to no one knowing what to expect coming into today, Nate knows he did it. 

All the hard work has paid off. His big dream of making it to the NHL and following in the footsteps of his favorite player and biggest inspiration is coming true. But even he knows this is only the beginning of a long journey.

Practically on autopilot due to a mix of shock and pure euphoria, Nate rises from his seat to hug his parents and sister and the grin on his face never wavers. It feels like his heart might burst out of his chest and there are so many emotions running through him as he makes his way to the stage to accept the special Avalanche jersey from his new team. His new home. 

Nate eagerly shakes everyone’s hands on stage in front of the large crowd, murmuring “thank you so much” over and over again when each person tells him congratulations. He still doesn’t believe this is real. But it is, somehow it is. After he pulls the white away jersey over his head and they all pose for the obligatory photo, Nate finds his family who is watching with nothing but awe in their expressions.

He’s going to make them proud. No matter how difficult it might be from here on out, he owes them that for giving up so much of their own lives to get him here. This might be his own dream, but without his dad spending countless hours passing him pucks on the lake just for Nate to perfect his slapshot or his mom making extra of her home cooked meals for him to take on the road for tournaments or his sister sending encouraging texts at random times of the day, he never would’ve gotten to this very moment.

“Congratulations again, Nathan. We’re very excited for you to join us for the season this year.” Joe says after the flashes subside and the photographers are satisfied with the picture which is already part of NHL history. Nate nods, a smile still plastered on his face and starts the trek back to his family before having to do some media for the broadcast as other players anxiously await the team that calls out their name as a selection.

And just as quickly as the rush of happiness enveloped him earlier, it disappears. Anyone looking on wouldn’t think anything is wrong, but to Nate, it feels like he’s just been plunged into freezing cold water that wakes him up from this dream to bring him back to reality. Fear and doubt squeezes his heart as thousands of countless negative thoughts flood his mind. 

What if all of this is just a silly dream? What if he got picked first overall and totally tanks the moment he steps onto the ice with the team? Up until today, he wasn’t even expected to be picked first and what does that say about him? About the kind of player he is? What if after all these years of playing hockey, training and pushing to be the best he can be just to get drafted were a waste of time? 

These emotions are unfortunately not unfamiliar to Nate. From the first moment the hockey world noticed a young boy in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia becoming a player like no other, doubt and fear became permanent residents in Nate’s life. But, like always, he continues on like there isn’t a worry. 

He’s an NHL player now and there’s not a second to waste on the potential that he might not be good enough to make it in this league.

Pressure pushed me to the edge, she worked me to the bone

And jealousy, she lied to me, said I needed things I don't

Shame, she had a way to make me hate myself inside

There it is. The Stanley Cup. Under the warm August sun, the silver trophy glitters beautifully and Nate wishes more than ever that he was the one standing in the back of that pickup truck with the beloved prize every hockey player wants to win. 

Instead, he’s on the side of the crowded road watching the victory parade pass by for the second time in two years. And the one with the Cup in his hands is Nate’s best friend, the pride and joy of Cole Harbour, Sidney Crosby. He loves Sid, always has, but this time around seeing the Cup and not being the one to show it off hurts so much more than it ever has.

The Avalanche finished last in the league this season. There were no playoffs or hopeful wishes of being the champions. While Sidney and the Penguins earned the highest achievement possible in the NHL, Nate and his team wallowed in their own pity because they had hit rock bottom. There was no way they could get any worse.

And Nate couldn’t understand it. How the Avs got here. How he’s yet again the one who’s jealous and brooding on a day where every single person in the province of Nova Scotia couldn’t be any happier. All he’s wanted his whole life was to win that stupid trophy. To thrust it over his head and take a lap around the ice after finally winning, to drink alcohol out of it on the days he gets the Cup to himself, to prove to everyone that he did it. That he was worth it.

He doesn’t need the Cup to show anyone that he’s one of the best players in the league. But in reality, that’s the only thing people care about. Either you’ve won and are regarded as a successful player or you haven’t and are seen as a player struggling to just make it there. Nate hasn’t even had a taste of a real Cup run and he’s in his fourth year. The team only qualified once out of those four, a fact he’s not quick to provide when compared next to Sidney.

All he knows though is that he is sick and tired of feeling like this.

On top of his raging jealousy, a strong wave of shame seizes him and Nate doesn’t bother fighting off the hatred for himself that has only grown since the middle of the season. If there’s one thing everyone knows about Nate, it’s that he’ll do whatever it takes to win, to get better, to help the team improve in areas no one else usually sees. Most of the time, it’s admirable and something that makes him a great athlete and leader.

But now, Nate couldn’t hate himself more for the decision he influenced with a simple text. He doesn’t have that much power as an alternate captain, but enough to convince Gabe and the higher ups that certain things should happen. He’s not proud that he sent the message to Gabe saying that the team needed the young prospect out of North Dakota University for next season. The kid isn’t even a sophomore yet and Nate knows he needs more development to be the best player he can be, but the Avs cannot finish last in the league again and he has a feeling Tyson Jost will be the reason they won’t repeat that exact feat next year. 

There was no questioning of Nate's logic, because he’s Nathan MacKinnon and maybe some of his teammates are still intimidated by him. Even if Tyson isn’t entirely ready to play at the NHL level, everyone agreed to the suggestion and Nate hopes that he’s right. Because right now, as he stands in the crowd of the Cup parade in his hometown, nothing but shame weighs him down. Knowing that he’s stinting another player’s potential just for his own benefit makes him hate himself more than anything.

Next season will undoubtedly bring even more pressure. Whether it’s because of the expectations of being from the same hometown as Sidney Crosby or because of Nate’s genuine talent, the pressure is only going to mount. And Nate swears right then and there that it doesn’t matter what it takes or what he has to do, but he will prove everyone wrong by leading his team to the playoffs and hopefully beyond. 

I found joy on the loneliest of nights

I bought a rock, I tied the knot, and I'm making her my wife

I found joy in my life

Nate stayed true to his word. Not even a year later and the Avs did make it to the playoffs, only to lose in the first round. Despite being an improvement, it still isn’t where any of them wanted to finish the season. It’s already been a few days since the team had been eliminated and almost everyone has either gone home for the summer or are away with their significant others on a trip. Nate, on the other hand, is sitting at the bar he frequents in Denver with a beer in his hand which has gone warm and is trying not to sulk over everything that has gone wrong since he was drafted. He wasn’t expecting a storybook career, but so far, he can’t seem to catch a break no matter how hard he works or how badly he wants to win. 

“Alright, what’s up with you blondie?” Your voice breaks through Nate’s thoughts like bright sunshine shining through the gray clouds on an overcast day. “I gave you that beer almost what? Three hours ago maybe? And you’ve taken like two sips the whole time you’ve been sitting here.”

Nate’s head snaps up at the sound of you talking and he tries to disguise the surprise on display across his face. No one has said a single word to him since he wandered in here earlier to get his mind off things which up until now, hadn’t worked. But to everyone’s credit, being left alone was nice despite the looks of recognition that flashed across a few people’s faces. 

“And?” He answers back, the single word nothing more than a mumble. If you weren’t listening closely, it probably would’ve gotten lost in the noise that fills the bar. And maybe he doesn’t want you to pay attention to him, but something about him intrigues you in a way that you can’t just leave alone. 

“So what happened? Did you get dumped? Dog ran away? Lost a bet?” You rattle off with a teasing tone, hoping he’ll answer in honesty. Even though you’re a bartender, the job requires you to be a built-in therapist as well because people who have had just a little too much to drink love to tell you all of their problems. The blonde man sitting on the other side of the bar has done neither of those things, he just looks incredibly sad and you want to fix that.

“Didn’t get dumped, dog didn’t run away and for once, I didn’t lose a bet.” Nate shakes his head, spinning the bottle around in his hands again as his broad shoulder slump even more. You have no idea who he is or what he’s actually doing here, but you know it’s breaking your heart seeing the handsome stranger look so upset.

“Then I’m not sure why you’re sitting here looking like the whole world is against you.” 

“Because it is.” He replies in defeat and finally looks up at you. The moment his eyes meet yours, everything comes to a stop. You aren’t drying the glass in your hands anymore and Nate is focused on nothing but you. It’s a moment like no other except neither of you can place the significance just yet. Nate holds your gaze for longer than necessary while relishing in the warmth that’s filling his chest before clearing his throat and continuing. “Long story short, I play hockey and my team failed to make it even remotely close to winning anything this year which is my fault.”

“Well, I don’t know much about hockey, but I do know it’s a team sport so it can’t be all your fault.” You say with a soft smile, happy that he decided to open up after all. Your heart is still racing from the unspoken emotions that passed between the two of you just seconds ago and now you can’t stop admiring him. What is he doing here?

Nate opens his mouth to respond, ready to argue that it is in fact his fault, when you raise a single finger in the air to shush him. Excitement takes over your facial features and Nate can’t help smiling a little at the sight of you. He wants to know why such a pretty, smart girl is working at an ordinary bar in Denver.

He hopes he’ll get to find out.

“Don’t say another word. I have just the thing to cheer you up. You don’t seem like much of the talker type, definitely more of a brooder, huh? So this should help. Don’t move a muscle, blondie.” 

And just like that, you’re moving at an impressive speed behind the bar grabbing things that Nate can’t make sense of. He’s interested to know what you’re doing and he can’t stop his mind from wandering to how whatever this feeling in his chest is, it’s one he never wants to go away. If that means keeping you in his life somehow, Nate will do it.

In less than five minutes, you’re standing in front of him again and exchange his gross beer for a full glass that’s topped with whipped cream and a cherry. Nate immediately shoots you a skeptical look, but you’re so proud and happy that he lets you speak before bursting your bubble.

“It’s a cookies and cream milkshake! My personal favorite and it always helps me feel better so figured it might be worth a try. I even used extra Oreos.” You explain, a beaming smile blossoming across your lips and Nate’s breath is stolen away. You’re so gorgeous and happiness looks incredible on you. And although the gesture makes his heart soar, the words he says don’t reveal that.

“I can’t drink that.”

“What do you mean you can’t drink that? Put the straw in your mouth and sip. It’s not that hard.”

“No, like how much sugar is in this thing? I might die and then you’d be charged with homicide to whatever degree. Are you trying to kill me?” Nate asks in all seriousness, spinning the glass in a circle like he’s surveying the shake.

“Okay, Mr. Hockey Player. Have a little fun and drink the stupid milkshake. When was the last time you had ice cream? Age five? It won’t kill you and I promise I’m only trying to help.” Nate smiles at your comments before, against better judgment, putting the straw in his mouth and drinking the milkshake that ends up being insanely good.

“Ohmygod. What did you put in this thing?” Nate exclaims, a light evident in his blue eyes that you’re seeing for the first time all night. The sight is something you want to see forever which is strange considering you just met him tonight.

“Magic.” You smirk, leaning against the counter and focusing all of your attention on the man across from you who has somehow captured your heart in no time. “Now, tell me more about yourself, blondie.”

“Blondie has a name, you know.” Nate flirts back, leaning closer to you. You can’t help but laugh at him, the sweet and happy sound immediately becoming Nate’s new favorite thing in the world. A few hours ago, he came in here sulking and hating everything about life and you somehow totally flipped that around by just being you.

“Hm, and what would that be?” 

“Nathan. But you can call me Nate.”

“Okay, Nathan but you can call me Nate. Get to it. I want every life detail.”

“Nuh uh, I told you my name so now you need to tell me yours.” Nate fires back with a teasing tone, brows raising as if insulating a challenge. You roll your eyes before leaning over to whisper your name to him. And it was right then that Nate knew his life was going to change. 

He met you, someone who is nothing but pure joy in human form, on the loneliest night and he didn’t know it then, but you were going to be his wife. It wasn’t until he picked out the engagement ring to ask you the big question that he realized everything he held to the highest standard meant nothing in comparison to you.

Nate found the joy in his life that night in a random bar in Denver. And nothing has been the same ever since.

And there were days I did not know

If she would pack her bags and go

But that's my girl forever though

And she knows, she knows

“Nathan, you have to talk to me. You can’t keep ignoring me because things aren’t going well for the team. That’s not how this works. That’s not how a relationship works.” You say sternly, eyes narrowing at your boyfriend who stops right in front of you. The Avs were hitting an awkward rough patch in the season and in an effort to be better than the last few years because getting eliminated in the second round is unwanted at best, Nate had been taking each loss to heart in order to keep improving.

All well and good except it was hurting you and your relationship. He hardly talked to you anymore, stewing in his own emotions most of the time. The physical touch and affection that he usually loves so much has disappeared almost entirely and it’s painful when all you want to do is hold him. He’s been training, skating and watching tape more than you can ever remember which leaves little to no time to do anything with you.

It’s killing you inside to see him do this without even realizing. And he still won’t listen to you.

“You knew what you were getting into when we started dating, Y/N. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Nate replies, his tone clipped and annoyed. You know he doesn’t mean it. Of course you knew that going in when you actually figured out who he was. But he’s upset and trying his best to pull more than he can handle for something he’s wanted his whole life. 

“Nathan,” You repeat, trying to keep your voice from wavering. For some reason, Nate turns towards you and you can tell he’s ready to argue. But instead, when his gaze meets yours, something breaks inside him. “What’s going on? How can I help? Don’t shut me out when we’re doing this together.”

Nate doesn’t say anything. You’re met with silence as the two of you stand opposite of each other in the living room. He looks a lot like the Nate you met in the bar a few years ago, not your Nate today. And you won’t let this drop until you figure out why he’s pushing you away.

Before you can push any further, he’s crossing the room and enveloping you in a tight hug. His arms wrap around your body to keep you close and his head falls to the crook of your neck as he lets the feeling of comfort surround him. 

“This isn’t you, bubs.” It’s those four words that get Nate to finally open up and you can tell just by the way he squeezes you a little closer and lifts his head to catch your eyes again. “Please talk to me.”

“I’m scared. Terrified, actually.”

“Of what?”

“Losing you. You deserve so much better than this and I’m just a stupid athlete after this practically unachievable dream and there’s no reason for me to be upset with you when you have nothing to do with it. Sometimes I expect to come home to your bags already packed because you can’t handle this side of me anymore, because you don’t want this anymore. Nothing is stopping you, but you’re still here. The possibility scares me so much.” The words tumble out of Nate’s mouth in one long ramble, breaking your heart into a million pieces in the process. 

“Nate, babe, that’s never going to happen. I’m yours forever. I know that and so do you. You constantly show me that’s the truth and I’m in this for the long run. You are and will always be more than just an athlete. You exist outside of hockey. You’re an amazing boyfriend, son, friend, I could go on and on. I know you want to win more than anything in this world, but we need to figure out how to separate that from us. And you have to let me in. I can’t help if you keep me at a distance.” Nothing but love and honesty seep through your reassurances and a weight is lifted off Nate’s shoulders as he listens to everything you have to say.

“You’re not going anywhere?” He asks teary eyed. You smile at him before running a hand through his blond hair and shaking your head.

“Never. You’re going to be stuck with me.” 

“You’re my girl forever. You know that?” 

“I know.” And as the overwhelming worry subsides, letting Nate breathe again, he surges forward to kiss you. Nothing else matters right then except for you, the love that you share and the life you’ve built together. This is what Nate wants to have forever, something that will be sealed sooner than you realize. 

I found joy and I kiss her every night

She gave me two more of her and I can't believe they're mine

Mmm, now I'm basking in their light

“Okay, they’re both down for the night.” Nate whispers with a tender smile as he walks towards where you’re all snuggled in bed. “Bails needed two bedtime stories tonight, but Hayden was out like a light the second she got into bed.” He continues, the light of happiness glittering in his ocean blue eyes. Even after all these years together, you couldn’t be anymore in love with Nate. He’s your husband, the amazing father of your children and most important person in your life. Neither of you knew how much would come out of that simple night in the bar all that time ago, but life has turned out even better than you could’ve imagined.

Because of him.

“What were Bailey’s picks tonight? ‘Angelina Ballerina’ again? Or are we back to the 'Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus’ obsession?” You ask with a giggle as Nate strips to just his boxers before climbing into bed. Your oldest daughter is quite the bookworm and although she’ll go to sleep with just one bedtime story when you do it, she always makes Nate read two or more. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he has all of her favorites completely memorized.

“Pigeon.” Nate replies with a chuckle, the sound filling your chest with warmth like always. “She helped me do all the funny sounds tonight too. Got the whole production.” 

“I can’t believe they’re growing up so fast.” You murmur suddenly while cuddling into him and that same look of adoration crosses Nate’s facial features. Since the day you told him you were pregnant, he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to be a dad. Besides playing in the NHL and winning the Cup, that was all he ever wanted. After meeting you, it became his most cherished dream along with getting married. When his two girls arrived, three years apart, his life was flipped upside down each time and he still can’t believe the two of them are his. His babies with you.

“Me either, it’s crazy how fast time has passed.”

And it’s true. Time has passed quicker than he thought was possible especially when it came to the girls. But Nate’s mind is drifting back to the day he got drafted. When the biggest aspiration and dream he had was to win a trophy important within his favorite sport. His career hasn’t been pretty, but it wasn’t all he had even if he got caught up in the wins and losses more often than not. He never pictured himself falling in love and getting the chance to start a family, settle down and be genuinely happy. Except he met you that fateful night and everything changed for the better. 

“You’ve got that look again, baby.” You tease, raising a hand to his cheek to rub your thumb over his skin. 

“I’m just so happy. To have you and the girls. Just being right here is all I could ever ask for. Thank you so much for being a constant source of love and joy in my life. You have been since we met.” Nate confesses, voice tender with emotion as he holds your gaze. “I didn’t think I’d ever get any of this.”

There are no words to properly say what you’d like so you just close the space between the two of you with a tender, yet deep kiss. Nate pulls you into his lap and you can feel his heart racing beneath your palm as happiness rushes through your veins. You love him and he loves you. It’s something you never saw coming, but will never give up now that it’s here.

And for Nate, who pulls away from the kiss with the biggest grin and that familiar sparkle in his eyes, he is going to cherish every moment of this love. Gone are the days where hockey controlled his every move all for one prize. He’s the happiest he’s ever been and getting to experience everyday with you and his beloved little family is like winning the Stanley Cup a million times over.

At the end of the day, he found his joy and nothing else will ever compare to the light of his life.

#nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon blurb #nate mackinnon fic #nate mackinnon imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #colorado avalanche #nathan mackinnon x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #fluff #angst #nathan mackinnon fluff #nathan mackinnon angst #hwncloud

[birdiewrites78]

The Four Seasons

Hi, I'd like to start by introducing myself. My name is Elle, and I'm a freshman in college. I'm trying to get back into writing, and this is my first attempt. I have written a Hotch X OC story that is part of a larger fanfiction. Aaron reflects on his year of knowing my original character in the story. It's been a while since I've written anything, so I would appreciate any feedback. Thank You!

Word Count ~ 1500

Summer

From the first day I met her, I knew that she was everything to me. My thoughts were overtaken by the smell of her perfume and the pleasantness of her voice. She greatly impaired my judgment, and that made me angry. I thought she was a plant from Strauss, which I would have preferred; at the time, I thought it would make things easier if I could just hate her. It felt like a sick punishment for my lack of faith—to make me fall in love with someone that I in no way deserved. We clashed because of our abhorrent combination of pride; she always questioned my decisions and found every opportunity to voice her opinion. I had to quickly reconcile the idea that she got this job through her own merits and that she was expectably good at public relations. She had this quality to her that she seemed to show everyone but me, and that just made people like her. I tried most times not to look at her, because whenever I did, I reverted into a teenage boy and lost all of my senses. The only saving grace for me was that she also harbored animosity towards me, which made swallowing my feelings easier—well,  at least for a bit.

Fall

In September, we slowly started to become friends, and I apologized to her for my harsh nature. We were somewhat similar in that way—passionate people who could be seen as abrasive. Our friendship really took off when she fainted in the middle of the field. I couldn't think about anything but her safety. I realized then how precious she was to me, how I craved to make her smile, and how badly I wanted her to at the very least see me as someone she could trust. I knew I wasn't owed her love, but I can't lie and say that I didn't want it. Towards the end of the month, I learned more about her when I picked her up one day when we were called in for a case. I was made for loving you; it was played on the radio, and I found out it was one of her favorite songs. From then on, I played it when I thought of her, which was so often how Jack remembered the song. Speaking of my son, I had never seen someone value him so much in the same way she did. She had a point of buying a puzzle for him whenever we went on a case, even though she had only met him once at that point. She just had a way of valuing people that I admired, and Jack constantly talked about her. During Thanksgiving, or a Thursday dinner with friends, as she regarded it, I had seen them interact. It was the happiest I had ever seen Jack, and while part of me felt envious of their connection, a larger part of me only loved her more.

Winter

December was the most crucial month for our love story. I was injured on the case, and she became frantic in a way I had never seen before. She insisted that I rest and tend to my wounds; her touch evoked a new spark in me that I never wanted to go away. It took away the pain of my injuries. She hugged me, crying after she cleaned me up, and stroked her back, just trying to comfort me. I was forced to consider the possibility that my feelings weren't as unrequited as I thought.

After that, I selfishly did what I could to be close to her again. I messed up my tie because I knew she would fix it, and I woke up an hour early to do my hair in the style she had told me that she liked once. Morgan commented on how I was whipped, and I couldn't care less. We started to sit next to each other on the plane, and after I found out that she hated the rain, I always carried an umbrella with me. The day that I knew for sure that she loved me was the day that I had saved her life. We were searching for a spastic shooter that seemed to target at random. Until we got a tip that they were going to hit the place where she was going to give a press conference.

I had only felt a similar level of panic the day Hayley died. I rushed there with the only thought on my mind: I couldn't let this happen again. I had tackled her, shielding her from the bullets scattering around us with my body. I'll never forget what she said to me: “I never noticed; your eyes had flecks of gold in the sunlight.” I was confused as to why that was her comment until I realized she thought we were going to die. It was her way of admitting she had noticed the little things about me. She touched the pieces of hair she could reach and started to smile at me, but I refused to let her die. I found us covered, started shooting back, and radioed to the others that we were under attack. Eventually, the shooter was eliminated, and I knew then that I had to tell her that I loved her.

It was at the annual holiday party when we started to date. It was a climatic night, and when I first saw her walk down the stairs all dressed up, I could swear for a few minutes that my heart stopped. The way I desired her was so dangerous. I was privy enough to hold her as we shared a dance together. I could feel her heart beating fast, and I knew she loved me. We retreated to the balcony, where we noticed it was the first snowfall we had seen for the year. She stared out over the property and confessed, She loved me. It was a night I will never forget. It was the first time she was truly vulnerable with me, and I finally learned why she hated the rain. I knew I couldn't help but love her forever, and I would do anything to make her feel comfortable with me.

Spring

We celebrated all of the major holidays together: Christmas, her birthday, which happened to be New Year's Day, and Valentine's Day. I was able to see her feel comfortable enough to love me, and after everything she had been through, I never wanted her to feel any pain. Spring was her favorite month, so after taking Jack to school once a week, I would bring her tulips because I knew how much she loved them. We had to hide our love from the team and especially Strauss, and while I wouldn't change a thing, it's not an ideal situation to date your employee. Well, it was hidden until May, when her life was put in danger. She walked into a standoff because she knew the man and wanted to help resolve it peacefully. The thing I loved most about her also brought me immense pain, and I understood how Hayley felt. I didn't leave her, though I proposed to her, because I realized how short life was and I didn't want to live with any regrets. To my surprise and pleasure, she said yes. It didn't feel scary, though I didn't have any worries about whether we would last or if this was the right decision because I knew it was. I wanted to show the whole world how devoted I was to her.

Summer

It was a rare day in August when I was able to sleep in. I woke up to her covering me in kisses. I could never get enough of her warmth and the sweetness of her kiss. Every morning, I wake up with a smile because I get to wake up next to her. What I wasn't expecting was what she would say next: "Let's get married." She whispered, and I was confused, so I answered, “We already are, honey." She laughed and clarified what she meant: "Let's Get Married Today.” I don't think I've ever smiled wider. She put on her mother's old wedding dress, and I put on the suit I wore to the holiday party. We made a stop before the courthouse so she could get me a wedding band. I had never seen her smile so much. I never wanted her to stop. I held her hand the entire day, and I never took my eyes off of her once; she looked so beautiful as a bride. I didn't understand how I got so lucky. After we were pronounced husband and wife, I picked her up and spun her around. I will never forget the giggle she let out in surprise. I kissed her like I would never be able to again. But I would, and I was able to kiss her forever. I don't know what brought her to me—maybe God, fate, or whatever you want to call it—but I knew that I wouldn't repeat my last mistake and I would never let her go. Well, she and our daughter are on the way.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x oc #criminal minds

[missathlete31]

Nowhere to Run Chapter 5

The Prequel to the Wedding of the Season

Notes:

Okay, so first I owe you all an apology for not getting this chapter out in a timely manner and then I owe you another because unfortunately you are stuck with this little teaser filler chapter. I am posting another dramatic chapter today which features a huge Hangman-Maverick confrontation so I hope you’ll stay tuned for that!

Also I did make a OC for this story. Her name is Naomi, she is Javy’s pregnant wife and her role is important in future chapters for the wedding so I hope you like her!

Despite their last conversation ending on good terms, Jake was still hoping he would be deployed when Payback's wedding came around. It wasn't that he didn't want to go per say but given how things had escalated with him and Bradley before he had left Miramar that last time, Jake was a little nervous to see the mustached pilot again. The last thing he needed or wanted was to cause a scene during Reuben's big day, a sentiment shared by Mickey when he left Jake no less than four messages begging him to keep his distance from Bradshaw. Jake had rolled his eyes seeing that it was him being warned when each time Rooster was the one who started it, but that sounded immature in his head, much less written back in a text message so Jake just promised Fanboy he would behave.

In spite of his concerns about potential fights, Jake was a little excited to see the team again. He had been on his carrier non-stop for almost seven months at this point and unfortunately his contact with the rest of the world had been basically non-existent. They were running stealth recon so the carrier's communications were mostly blacked out and besides a few calls to Coyote over the first few early weeks, Jake was literally in the dark. It didn't help that half way through his stint, Hangman dropped and broke his phone, not allowing him to fix it until he docked back in California yesterday morning.

As everyone else on his team hugged and reunited with their family members, Jake left the docks and headed to a Verizon store, getting a new phone in time to see that despite being away for all that time he barely had any calls or texts to come home to. There were a few from Coyote of course, until Jake had borrowed a buddy's phone to let his best friend know about the loss of his, and check in's from some of the others in the Machado clan, but nothing from Jake's own parents or family. Some of the Daggers had reached out, funny memes sent or just a general 'how's it hanging' but those were few and far between, the most dedicated being Fanboy and that was only to give Jake warnings about the wedding, nothing really asking about how he was in general.

It shouldn't have been surprising, he had left them first after all but Jake would be lying if he said it didn't hurt. Things had felt different during those weeks in North Island, and even though he had blown it all up spectacularly in the hangars that day, Jake had selfishly hoped some relationships could survive the blast. Jake couldn't help wondering, as he sat in his hotel room on the night before Payback's wedding, if maybe the team did stay together and just alienated him. Hangman was a hard person to be around, he knew that, and the others might have felt he wasn't worth the effort. He couldn't blame them and he certainly couldn't hate them for it but it still hurt just the same.

The conundrum of Jake Hangman Seresin: constantly pushing people away to avoid being hurt, only to be hurt all alone instead.

But Hangman was trying to fix that.

Jake had learned a lot during the Uranium mission and not just in the air. Hangman softened himself, smoothed some of those rough edges that he was known for and rejoined the Vigilantes almost seamlessly. He took back his spot as unofficial leader, still with his same cavalier attitude but a little less condescendingly. When he showcased some of the moves he had learned from Maverick, he didn't tease the rest of the team when they watched wide eye and in awe but taught them, showing off like he loved to do but with more of a purpose. Of course Hangman was still Hangman, and he smirked and winked and proclaimed loudly for all to hear about how he had swooped in and came to the rescue of two pilots, ultimately saving the day but he also swallowed some humility when it leaked he was only chosen as spare. The news of his second air-to-air to kill had reached his old team's ears, and Hangman had first played his part with flaunts and bragging until a few of his good friends on the team noticed the nightmares he started having again, the winces when the topic was brought up and the loss of the usual glint in his green eyes. The others in the squad noticed too and soon everyone on the team, his team, ended up supporting him in his struggles, helping him to work through his thoughts, feelings, and most importantly his guilt. It was foreign to a man like Jake Seresin to show such emotions and self-proclaimed weakness to anyone, let alone to men and women he was flying with but to his immense surprise, instead of being chastised or ridiculed, it earned him friendships. He was looked at beyond his call-signs and his accomplishments for once and just looked at like a teammate and friend.

It just hurt that it took so much time before Jake had learned such a rewarding lesson. He had missed so many opportunities of having similar relationships and interactions with the others, too hardheaded and stubborn to let his mask down and be genuine.

But he wasn't giving up.

Jake naively hoped this wedding could fix things that were broken, could fix the Daggers. They might not be able to be a team, but they could be friends again. Jake missed Phoenix's teasing, Fanboy's impressions, Omaha and Fritz's impromptu songs. He missed Bob's stealthy entrances, Halo's ballerina twirls on the way to her plane, the Ivies crazy conspiracy theories. Hell Jake even missed Rooster's piano playing; he could never hear "Great Balls of Fire" without thinking of Bradshaw and how many nights throughout both their careers that a bar of strangers came together to sing the notes of that damn catchy song.

Maybe this wedding could be the start of better times.

Jake planned on taking an uber to the wedding, not knowing much about the Florida town that Payback and his soon to be wife Jacqueline lived to rent a car, but that was immediately nixed when Coyote and his wife Naomi arrived at the hotel. Javy and Naomi had been married for three years already and Jake had found out the day that Coyote had succumbed to G-Loc that the young family of two were soon to be a family of three.

Hangman had never hugged his best friend harder than when he heard the news.

Now Naomi was due in just a few short weeks, waddling into the hotel lobby to envelope Jake in the biggest hug she could with her swollen belly. There were very few people in the world as sweet as Javy's wife; Javy's mother being the only other one that came to the blonde's mind. Jake was forever teasing his best friend that he was spoiled by getting the two nicest people in the world as such prominent figures in his life. To which Coyote mocked back that that meant Jake was just as spoiled since they were a part of his life as well, loving him just as much and perhaps in the elder Mrs. Machado's sake more than Javy. If Jake's eyes happened to look a little watery after his best friend's words, Javy was a saint for ignoring it.

"Look at you" Jake smiled, pulling out of Naomi's hug to take a look at the woman. She was still as beautiful as ever, even more so with that pregnancy glow, though Jake could see some exhaustion in her brown eyes. She wore a simply black dress that flaunted her bump, but it was classy just like the woman always was, "You looked beautiful" he told her.

"I look like a whale-"

"But a beautiful whale-"

"Hey" she laughed in faux outrage, smacking Hangman lightly on the arm, "you were supposed to say I look slim" she chastised playfully, a smile on her face.

"You're carrying my godson, you need to be huge so he can be big and strong and the greatest Quarterback in Texas University history."

Naomi shook her head with an eye roll, "Wrong football" she warned the blonde, "his Abuelo already got him a soccer net and goal."

"Yeah well wait until Jakey Jr. starts tossing that pigskin, he's going to fall in love." Jake tilted his head mischievously, "Jake Jr. is still on the top of the baby name list right?"

"It was never on the list" a voice came from his right and Jake turned to see his best friend striding towards them. Javy looked good, happier than Jake had ever seen him, and the blonde couldn't help the grin that widened on his face as the two best friends shared an embrace. "Welcome back man" Javy spoke, a touch of emotion in his tone, "we missed you."

"Missed you guys too, can't believe how much has happened since I left, look how far along you guys have gotten."

Coyote beamed as he looked over at his wife, "t-minus 41 days" he shares giddily, overjoyed at the impending arrival of his new addition.

"Jesus" Jake looked at his two oldest friends with a scrutinizing gaze though it held nothing but true fondness, " you're actually going to let him be a Daddy Naomi?"

Javy's face scrunched up indignant, "Hey screw you, I've been raising you for the past decade."

"That does not help your case-"

"Okay children" Naomi cut in as the boys moved in to play fight, "we should head out if we don't want to be late."

"You got it DD."

"DD?" Jake questioned, his eye brow raised. Coyote met his gaze with a wide grin, "DD- Designated Driver."

"Nice" the two pilots high-fived as Naomi rolled her eyes, "yes, yes, now you both can act like the dumb frat boys you are."

"Awww baby" Javy wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, "you know you found my frat boy ways irresistible, it's what made you fall in love with me!"

"No that was tequila-"

Jake chuckled as the couple continued to squabble, taking a moment to fix his hair in the mirror before they departed. Behind him he heard Javy groan, "oh my God, it's fine" he moaned as though he found his friend's actions insufferable, "God, you're like a woman- ow" Jake looked up to see his friend nursing his arm that his wife clearly just smacked. "Sorry some of us want to look good tonight," the blonde winked through the mirror, "you never know what single ladies could be in attendance."

"They will take one whiff of you and run in the other direction."

Jake offered up a stealthly middle finger as the trio headed towards the parking lot, "just because you're fully embracing the Dad bod" Jake motioned towards Coyote's midsection jokingly, as it clearly looked as trim as ever in his dress uniform.

Javy gave a teasing shriek, "don't tell me I look fat?" he asked in a high pitch voice, "I thought this dress was slimming?"

"I mean how do you think I feel" Hangman deadpanned, "I chose the same one."

"As long as I wear it better."

"Well then prepare for disappointment-"

"Wow now I really feel like one of your dates-"

"That's not what your mother said."

Naomi, watching and waiting at the rental car, sighed loudly, "I swear if you guys are going to be like this all night, I'm ditching you both for a hot army ranger."

"But then who will be our DD?" Javy asked cheekily.

She squinted her eyes, "oh you think you're so funny and charming Javier Machado but you are not Sir."

"Oh I'm not am I?" Coyote reached for his wife and pulled her gently to his chest pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose, "are you sure about that mi amor?"

"Positive" Naomi's smile widened though, "but that hot army rang" but she cut off as Javy leaned down for a more passionate kiss, his hand coming up and cuffing his wife's cheek as he leaned in. Jake felt like he was intruding on the moment but finally, seeing the time, he cleared his throat, "okay kids you're already pregnant so let's save some of that for later okay?" When he was rewarded with not one but two pairs of middle fingers the blonde laughed and snuck the car keys from his best friend's grip, "now I get to drive."

"Knock yourself out man" Javy moved to open the door for Naomi.

Once they were all settled Jake started the short drive to the wedding venue, not even bothered by the traffic on the roads. "God I miss driving" he told the others, "once I get back to base I'm taking a long drive in my truck to Texas."

"Your ass better be in New Orleans for the birth Godfather."

"Of course" he grinned over at Naomi in the passenger seat, "someone has to catch Javy when he faints."

"Ha-Ha" the other man mocked.

"I'm serious" Naomi continued, "I know you get a few months off now so come stay with us for a bit. You know we'd love to have you and Javy has a ton of furniture that he was supposed to have built already."

Jake's heart warmed at the offer, he truly was blessed to have Javy and Naomi in his life. Refusing to let his emotions get the better of him though he gave the others his trademark smirk instead. "For the sake of Jake Jr," he told them, "I'll have to help, I've seen Javy try to put together a bookshelf and it fell apart the next day-"

"THE INSTRUCTIONS WERE IN SWEDISH!" Javy cried out in indignation, "and what is this, make fun of Javy day?"

"It's always make fun of Javy day" Jake countered smugly, "you make it so easy."

The other man grumbled in his seat, "I prefer make fun of Jake day better" he complained, earning easy laughs from his companions.

The car fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Jake caught Naomi's face discreetly turning to glare at Javy. He watched his best friend meet his wife's eyes before mouthing, 'I know, I know' back at her. Jake felt a bit of unease in his stomach, "everything okay?" he ventured carefully.

Javy jumped like he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar, "uh, yeah, totally. Just um, was wondering how much you heard from some of the others recently?"

The blonde's brow furrowed, "like who?"

"Oh you know, " Javy answered carefully, gauging his best friend's response, "some of the Daggers."

"No" Jake shook his head, looking up and making eye contact with Coyote through the rear-view mirror, "I only got my phone back a day ago, why? What's up?"

"Nothing, nothing, I was just curious."

"Javy" Naomi warned sternly, "tell him."

"Tell me what?" Hangman cut in immediately, "what is it?" When he received no reply he waited until a red light to see the married couple having another silent argument. Jake frowned, "come on guys just spit it out already. I can take it, I swear."

"It's Mav" Javy finally relented.

Jake couldn't contain his confusion, "Mav? What about him?"

"He’s out" the dark haired man explained softly.

“Out?" Hangman was ready to kill his best friend for his indistinct answers, "Out where? What happened?”

Javy finally stopped his vagueness, “Out of the Navy," he informed Jake, "he was up in the air with two other planes and there was some sort of training accident. One plane went down bad, a fire and everything. There was supposed to be an inquest but he officially ‘retired’ and then they called it off. I heard they drove him out."

Hangman blanched in surprise, “No shit really?" he questioned, watching as his best friend nodded in conformation. "Well who was in the training accident?" the blonde asked desperately, thinking of the four teammates he knew of that still was serving under Maverick and feeling his heart constrict at the thought of it being any of them, "Was it one of the Daggers?”

“No" Javy immediately moved to put his friend at ease, recognizing the concern on Jake's face, "it was some new guys," he explained. "But it's already been a few weeks and none of them are back in the cockpit.”

“Who told you all this?”

“Fritz," the dark haired man shared, "he’s still there with them." Javy's face fell a bit further, "he um," the man rubbed the back of his neck nervously, clearly not sure how to say the rest of what he wanted to say, "Fritz said things were bad before the mid air crash but ever since Mav left, the team is in shambles. Rooster is apparently taking it the worst, like one more outburst from real disciplinary action."

Jake couldn't contain his frustrated huff of annoyance, "not surprising."

"That's what I said" Javy concurred, "but I wanted to warn you since well, since everyone is going to be there and according to Fritz the Daggers aren't going to last much longer."

"What's that mean?"

"Group is finished, getting new assignments by the end of the month."

Hangman's eyes darted back up, "You serious?"

Coyote nodded, "it's all over man."

"Maybe it's for the best" Naomi interjected diplomatically, "they gave it a try and it didn't work out. Some things are just not meant to be."

"Yeah" her husband joked, "try telling that to Bradshaw-"

"Or his fists" Jake grimaced.

Naomi sighed wearily, "there better not be a fight tonight" she warned.

Coyote turned back to the window, his brows raised, "no promises" he murmured but the rest of the car heard.

"Jesus," Jake moaned, his mind still reeling. He couldn't help but worry about what this meant for the unsteady foundation he was on already with the others. He had come into today with the hope of fixing things with his old squad but it seemed that the Curse of Jake Hangman Seresin was still on and he was once more too late. Though it wasn't entirely fair, Hangman did have a role in everything that had happened to Mav and the others and that he was certainly going to get some flack and guilt thrown his way; if Bradshaw was pissed, maybe even some fists thrown his way. This was not how the blonde wanted this night to go and he wondered if it were too late to turn around and head back to California, telling Payback he actually got stuck on duty and couldn't make it after all. It was probably preferable to an altercation at his wedding reception. As though reading his mind, Jake felt a gentle hand reach for his arm, Naomi offering a tight smile, "we're on your side" she told him and Jake gave a short nod in return.

"Thank you" he whispered.

From the back seat Javy let out a low moan, "it's going to be a long night isn't it" he asked.

Jake and Naomi shared another glance, "Damn straight" they chorused but the car continued on. Whatever they would face tonight, at least they would do so together.

#top gun maverick #glen powell #jake seresin #top gun hangman #top gun #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #maverick #top gun movie #tom cruise #jake seresin fanfiction #pete mitchell #dagger squad #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado #greg tarzan davis #coyote is the best

[oyesmendes]

a summer of love - 3

a/n: scheduling this while i'm on holiday! rest of the chapters will come soon, i promise. and i think we all need this after that shitstorm in hungary...hope you guys enjoy this one and cant wait to hear what you all think!

read all other parts here!

Australia 

"But the way George had his arm around her says otherwise!" Carlos argues with Lando, who had his arms folded, standing in front of him. 

They're all in Lando's room, piled on the bed like teenagers talking about puppy love. Well, it was exactly that. Just that this wasn't puppy love... and they weren't exactly teenagers...

"And? You almost kissed the woman! And for crying out loud, it's George, they're siblings, they used to live together. That's why they act like that." Lando tells him. 

Charles also chimes in, "Mate, just ask her out and see how it goes." 

Carlos has a skeptical look on his face, “Like, a date?" 

"Yes, like a date, Carlos. How else would you ask her out?" 

"Why are you so nervous anyway, it's not as if it's your first time asking her out." Lando asks. 

He furrows his brows, "I don't know- she's just special."

"Then ask her out - and make her feel special."

-

Last push to the chequered flag - she’s right behind the other silver arrow. A grin forms across her face, knowing that this would be good. 

“And that's P4, nicely done Sofía." 

"Yes guys!” She can hear the screams and cheering in the garage, “Thank you to everyone, especially those back at the factory. We will only move forwards from here." 

“Sofía, Toto here. I’m so proud of you for this, enjoy your first top 5.” 

She pulls in at the Parc Ferme, climbing out of the car and running towards George who was already celebrating with the team. They hug tightly and he lifts her off the floor. 

"That was a good one, Georgie. P3!” She pats his helmet. 

"Have to say the same for you too, Sof." 

She looks around to see where Carlos was, "what happened to the Ferraris?" 

"Charles is right there-“ George points at the race winner, but then he watches her look around more and he knows what she actually means. 

"Carlos didn't finish from what I've heard." 

She frowns, pulling off her helmet, "Oh damn, that must've sucked." 

But Sofía didn’t have time to think about it. 

She’s being thrown in all different directions after the race, with every single media outlet wanting a piece of her. 

First top five of her rookie season. - everyone knew she was something. Sofía looks around occasionally, but doesn't see Carlos once in the media pen; she could only presume he was done with his duties after not completing the race. 

So she focused on entertaining the reporters with her well practiced lines, one by one. 

"It was a good battle out there, enjoyed every moment of it." 

"Can't wait to see what the future races hold." 

"Fingers crossed we get to produce the same results again." 

And by the time she's done, she had exhaustion written all over her face. 

"They really don't consider the fact that we've been driving for more than an hour straight huh." She rubs her neck, entering the motorhome. Emily hands her a post-race protein shake, and she meets with George who had also just come in. 

"Debrief's in 10, and we'll head out for some dinner tonight?" Emily tells them both. They both agree, then head off to their driver rooms. 

Eventually, they make it back to the hotel, with less than an hour to get ready. Sofía was in a robe choosing her dress, when George had let himself into her room with his spare key, having showered and changed quicker. 

"Help me with this while I change?" She hands him a tangled silver necklace. He gladly takes it, beginning to work on the jewellery. 

Sofía was stood in front of a mirror zipping up her dress when the doorbell rings. 

"I'll get it," Sofía tells George, assuming it was Emily at the door. But no, Carlos was standing in front of her, hands in his pockets. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. 

"Carlos, to what do I owe this pleasure?” 

He was dressed in a button up shirt and jeans, a nervous look on his face. 

"Can I take you out to dinner? To celebrate your first top 5." He asks- or blurts. 

Before Sofía could respond, Carlos hears a voice shout from behind her. 

"I untangled it!" George then emerges, in a striped shirt and khaki pants, holding a silver necklace in his hands. The air seems to be caught in Carlos' lungs as the scene unfolds in front of him. Carlos looks to George, then to Sofía, and he came to a realisation at what was happening. 

She clears her throat, taking the necklace from George's hand,

"Um actually we're going out to celebrate, do you-" 

"No no no!" George cuts her off, "go along with him."

"I can always come back another-" Carlos interjects, but is quickly cut off. 

"Carlos, no please - take her out. God knows she hangs out way too much with us Merc boys." 

Sofía frowns, "Are you sure? we can always go together-" 

"Sof,” George warns, “there will be many more top fives that we can share. Just go with Carlos." He gives her a knowing look, one that tells her she shouldn’t argue any further. 

"Alright," She smiles at Carlos who's standing a little awkwardly by the door. He was reconsidering his every moves, but it was too late to take any of them back. 

"Let me get my bag, do you want to come in?" She stands aside, and George takes his cue to leave. 

He gives her a side hug and a peck on the top of her head, which rubs Carlos the wrong way.  

"I'll see you later." George tells her. 

"Text me okay? And don't have too much fun, you know what Toto said." She warns, a playful smile on her face. 

"I will, and you," George turns to Carlos, "have fun with this one. Take care of her will ya?" 

"I sure will mate." 

-

"I'm sorry I didn't think about asking in advance-" Carlos starts to ramble after George left. 

Sofía just chuckles at him, "It's fine Carlitos, I enjoy hanging out with you. But in order for us to leave this room, could you help with my necklace?" 

He scrambled to help her when he realises she's been trying to clasp the silver jewellery together for god knows how long. And he's that close to her neck - where the scent of her perfume is overpowering his senses. He’s focused on the way the dress is hugging her waist, flaring out at the hips- and Sofía catches him staring, a smirk on her face when his eyes meet hers in the mirror. 

Get it together Carlos, clasp the damn necklace. 

They leave the hotel room together to get to Carlos' Ferrari, and they make it successfully to his car without getting caught by any fans; then taking a short drive to a quaint restaurant Carlos had chosen. They are settled at the back, out of the public's eye, courtesy of the waitresses who were big fans of Formula One. 

“I’ll come back shortly to take your orders,” the waitress tells them. 

"So..." Sofía sighs, looking up from the menu at Carlos, "I'm sorry about your race." 

Carlos lets out a humourless laugh, "it's alright, things happen. We're here to celebrate you!" 

"I know, it's just- I feel bad that we're here on a date-"

Carlos smirks at her, and Sofía feels her face start to burn. 

"Cariña, don't worry. I'm okay, tonight is all about you, and your first P4 of the season." He looks down at the menu, "enjoy the date." 

The food arrives shortly after, and they begin to dig in. Of course Sofía exchanges banter with Carlos as they talk about the race, and how everything had been going for the last two rounds. She laugh and they flirt - albeit subtly, and things seem to go smoothly. 

Until Carlos decided to drop the burning question in his mind. 

"So you and George?" 

Sofía hums in response, pushing around the vegetables she had on her plate. 

"Are you guys... yknow? Or have you guys ever?..." He beats around the bush, and Sofía is well aware of what's happening. 

Her expression changes, but Carlos couldn't read what it meant. He starts to panic, worried that he might've stepped into uncharted territories. 

"You don't have to tell me if you-" 

"No no, it's okay. George and I..." Sofía puts her fork down, "well nobody knows this besides maybe my parents, but yeah we've dated. For a couple of months we tried, and obviously with the W series and him struggling in Williams..." 

Carlos' face drops, and his mind runs through the million possibilities of 'Sofía and George'. 

"At the end of 2021, we didn't expect to be in Mercedes together, but life works in mysterious ways." She shrugs, pushing the plate forwards. Her eyes meet Carlos', and she can see the doubt in his eyes. 

"But Carlos," She leans forward, taking his hand in hers, “George and I - we're just friends now. Nothing more than that." 

Carlos nods slowly, squeezing her hand in his. And he believes her, or more so he wants to believe her - when he sees the sincerity in her eyes, the way they shine under his gaze. 

-

After a post-dinner stroll to the car, they make their way back to the hotel. It was a miracle they weren't stopped by anyone along the way; and Sofía was thankful that for now - she was somewhat lowkey, not as popular as most drivers on the grid, and she could enjoy a night like this, uninterrupted. 

They both get to her floor, and make their way to Sofía's room, Carlos' hand resting on her lower back. It had been like this the entire walk, his hand resting there, a form of protection. She turns, her hands touching his biceps, a soft smile on her face. 

This was his chance, to make up for that night, to seal the deal. And Sofía seems to have the same understanding as she leans towards him. Their foreheads are pressed together, and Carlos swears he's never felt his heart beating this hard out of his chest. Now or never. 

He dips his head down, and their lips lock. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet full of sparks. He squeezes her hips and Sofía giggles like a child, pulling away. 

"Tonight was nice." She whispers. 

He pushes her hair behind her ear, "yeah it was," 

"I would love to do this again." 

"You would?" He almost sounded surprised, and Sofía nods. A cheeky grin forms on Carlos' face, 

"How about we celebrate, after Imola?" 

Sofía raises her brows, "Oh, so confident we'd have something to celebrate huh?" 

"There's always something to celebrate with you." 

Oh boy was he about to be so wrong. 

-

Imola

"You must be fucking kidding me..." She mutters when she passed the chequered flag. She knows this wasn't good, she knows that she'd fucked up when she was behind a Williams she had no recollection of lapping. 

Bono’s voice echoes in her ears with bad news, “P13, Sofía. That's P13." 

"What the hell happened to the progress we made?!" She slams her hand on the car. Silence follows her outrage.

The radio then crackles, and another voice follows, 

"Sofía, it's Toto. I'm really sorry about that drive. Thank you for handling it the way you did." 

"Yeah," She sighs, "I really hope we can find something more from this." 

-

"Where did Carlos finish?" She asks Emily as they make their way to the media pen. She had slowed the walk down considerably, knowing the vultures that were ready to pick her apart in that enclosed pen. Emily seemed to understand as well, following Sofia’s pace as they talked and ignored the millions of cameras pointing at them. 

"He didn't." 

"Second time in a row?" 

Emily nods, taking the water bottle from Sofia's hand. She frowns, looking around to see if she could spot him by any luck. But of course, he was no where to be found, and she had to plaster on her million dollar smile for the media.

-

After fulfilling her duties and a nice cold shower, she makes her way to the Ferrari motorhome, texting Carlos when she arrives outside. 

Sofía: hey, wanna talk? I'm outside

Carlos: not now

A man of very few words, she thought. 

She sighs, walking back to her own motorhome when another message comes in. 

Carlos: i'm sorry. talk when we get back to the hotel, i'll come to yours.

Sofía: nothing to be sorry about, see you then :)

"Sof!" She hears someone call out. Sofía turns to see George jogging towards her. He has a sad smile on his face, slinging his arm around her shoulder for a side hug. 

"We'll get 'em next time." 

"Yeah, yeah we will." She instinctively wraps her arm around his waist, both of them walking like this back to the motorhome. 

"Do you want to grab a quick dinner before we head back?" George asks. Sofia contemplates telling him about her plans, but she doesn't, not wanting to complicate things too early.

"Uh no, I think I'll head back early. I'll get room service." 

George raises his brow, “do I need to worry about you wallowing in sadness?”

Sofia laughs sadly, shaking her head, “no you don’t Georgie, don’t worry about me.”

-

It's not long after Sofía gets back when Carlos knocks on her door. 

"Hey," She breathes out, opening the door for him to walk through. He kisses her forehead as he walks in. 

"I'm sorry about your race." Carlos starts. 

"At least I got to finish." She says sympathetically, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. 

"You'll get there okay? You and the team." She tells him, her hand resting on top of his. 

"I know- can we, can we talk about something else?" 

Sofía nods, pulling out the room service menu for the both of them. Carlos picks out the food, while she puts on a film. They've never done this before, but it almost felt natural, the chemistry between them stronger ever since Australia. 

Yet, one thing still floats on Carlos' mind - where does he stand? Since that evening, Carlos could not shake it off his mind - finding her and George in the same room all dressed up. Then she easily switches and goes on a date with him. 

He knows he should trust her words, but how does the saying go? Actions speak louder than words - and right now her actions are speaking at a higher volume. 

Despite all that in his mind, he doesn't bring it up to her, watching the film while room service food was sprawled all over the bed. They eat and enjoy the comfortable silence, the comfort of being together after a long day; until Sofía was passed out on one side of the bed, snoring softly. 

Carlos gets up when he realises she was asleep, turning off the TV and placing the empty plates on the table. Then he hears a soft voice,

"Stay." 

He pauses, thinking he was hearing it wrong, and proceeded to put the rest of the plates aside. Then he sees Sofía - propped up on the bed with her arms, her hair a standing mess and her eyes barely open, 

"Stay here tonight, Carlos."

"I- but," He stumbles over his words, but Sofía just pushes back the covers, and pats the bed. 

"Stay with me," She smiles softly. And Carlos obliges, smiling softly at her, slipping under the covers. 

-

taking a bit of a pause on the taglist.. i've been struggling with it for the last few weeks, but i will update it as soon as i have the time!

taglist: @primadonnasdream @dr3lover @chicadelapartamento512-blog @thebagginsofbaggend @starlightoctavia @d0ntjudgemy50shades @cowspew @justthatgirlxox @ggaslyp1 @fromthedeskofjoii @lorenakaspersen @words-4u @o0itsjustme0o @ambrosialilly @totowolfff @gulsolsikke @enjoymyloves @rmaddenns @care2703 @katcontrreras @tattered-tales @luvrboygaslys @piceous21​ @shristi-jaluka @kyomihann @sgkophie @jpotterdilf @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy @lovingroscoee @monte-carlando

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz junior #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 one shot #formula one #lando norris #charles leclerc #george russell

[maseyymoun]

Worth the wait

Bit of a long burner, first fic I’ve ever done. So guess we’ll see how it goes kinda iffy I think idk. Any improvements welcome xx

Summary- When your dad and his friend work with the national team it gets you closer to a couple of the players, one more so than the others. 

----------

Having a dad who’s apart of the England International coaching team was always exciting to you when you were younger, always dreaming to be like him or someone who he would work with. However, having a dad thats close friends with the one and only Gareth Southgate was like a dream come true to you. When you were younger your dad had signed you up to play in a local team and you loved it, he’d take you along to training with the players to help you improve. But as you get older you began to loose interest, you still kept up to date with your dad and Gareth as well as the teams and results but your life plans changed so you focused more on those.

You used to frequent your family house regularly for dinner and those days Gareth would also attend so that you could all catch up on each others everyday lives. Recently, you hadn't been round but after hearing the news through your family's group chat that your dad was considering retirement after the season you decided you needed to help lift his spirits to keep him doing what he loves. 

After a short day at uni you sent your mum a message asking if you could join with Gareth for dinner that evening. With a heart warming ‘yes we’d all love that I’ll make the usual’. You headed off to St Georges park to see the end of training. You walked onto the field as the players were all stood round Gareth who was talking to them all about something, as they all started to disperse you began to walk towards your father and the coach. Gareth having seen you walking towards them gave you a smile and asked one of the players to give him the ball they had hold of, upon this your dad as well as a few players noticed you giving you welcoming smiles causing a blush to appear on your face. 

With only a handful of players staying around the field kicking and joking around with one another. Gareth pulled you into a hug whilst your dad spoke ‘well this is a pleasant surprise, what do we owe the pleasure?’ Which you replied with a glint ‘maybe just dinner tonight at yours’. You stole the ball and with a smirk they both chuckled with a nod to your silent question of a game. The three of you began kicking the ball between one another every so often one of you doing some sort of trick before you passed it until you decided to start trying to steal the ball from one another. All of you laughing and tackling each other round the pitch until the younger boys who stayed called over ‘hey gaffer! Do you mind if we all joined?’ to which Gareth looked to you before calling back to the boys, ‘don't you all have recovery to be doing?’ Before you cut him off with a smirk ‘oh come on grouch let us show up the big future stars’ erupting laughs from all the men with a couple muttering ‘as if’ ‘she wishes’. After Gareth giving you quick introductions you all got into a little game. You cant deny all the players are good looking lads, but only one caught your eye. Mason Mount. And he would agree that you had also caught his eye, giving you little glances as they’d walked over and a big smile as you were both introduced. Your dad giving a little chuckle at both of yours’ reactions. During the game you were both passing little comments to the other always aiming to be near each other, whether that was racing up the pitch or tackling one another with him always holding his hands out near you when he’d tackle you. 

During one tackle he had tripped you, whilst preparing to brace for impact you never felt it, only breath next to your ear as you heard a quiet ‘shit sorry, you alright?’ mumbled into your ear. Releasing a breath of release you turned around with a small smile mumbling ‘all good’ Until you all heard Gareth shout out an ‘alright you lot good game, but bugger off now  we’ve all got dinner waiting for us’ as he shot your dad a knowing look who only returned a big grin causing another blush to arise on your face as Mason released his grip from your waist. You collected the ball and headed towards the edge of the pitch with Gareth to collect your things ready to head home with the older men for a long awaited meal. 

Unbeknownst to you Mason stood back as he watched you walk away from him, until he was joined by your dad who gave a laugh as Mason tried to apologise and seem as if he wasnt just watching or holding you. ‘She’s a quiet girl to start Mase’ and with a pat to the young midfielders he strolled off after you and the coach leaving the player with a love struck smile across his face.

--

Both your father and his friend had noticed you frequently visiting the park both enjoying your company even if they knew deep down you weren't there for them. You’d began to get friendly with all the players getting to know them all but spending most of your time talking and getting to know Mason. A few of the boys, as well as Mason had followed you on Instagram, after posting a photo of you dressed up for your graduation you had two private message notifications that shocked you whilst you were returning from a celebratory meal. 

‘Congrats brains’ ‘You look beautiful by the way’. Replying with a ‘thank you superstar, well done on your game last night’ with a big smile on your face, you went to close your phone before seeing the bubbles to show he was typing. A reply popping up on your screen almost immediately of him asking if he can take you out to celebrate with a blush you replied with a ‘course we can just let me know the details and I’ll be there’ After locking your phone and leaving it on the side before joining your family only returning to it later that evening to see a another message. ‘Ice cream tonight?’ 

---

Later that evening you found yourself sat in Masons passenger seat parked at a viewpoint, both of you holding a mcflurry whilst you made jokes about him breaking his strict diet plan which he made you promise not to tell anyone. Everything felt so natural with him, conversations flowing with him asking you what you plans were for the future now that you’d finished uni to where your dream holidays would be. During the drive back to your flat Masons hand unconsciously fell to your thigh causing goosebumps, as he stroked his thumb against your skin. The car is filled with unspoken truths about your feelings that neither of you were brave enough to say. Once you arrived outside your flat Mason parked the car before facing you with his massive grin before he shyly asked ‘can I walk you up? Its okay if you dont want me to’. Cutting off his rambling by placing your hand on his cheek you smiled back nervously whispering a ‘stop panicking, you can walk me up’. You both exited his fancy car as he jogged over to your side to walk next to you with both your arms singing into each other causing you both to giggle at one another. Mason took it upon himself, when it happened again to slip his fingers between yours before looking over to see your shy rose cheeks erupting a laugh from him making you knock into his shoulder with a shake of your head causing his laugh to increase in volume. Once you both arrived outside your flat you turned to him with a smile before saying ‘I’d invite you in but dad and Gareth told me I had to keep you waiting’ With a shake of his head he kissed your cheek before looking you in the eyes ‘youre worth the wait’ With a rush of confidence you leaned forward pecking your lips onto his. As you pulled away and opened your eyes you saw the grin growing on his face as he pulled you back into him for another kiss filled with passion and all the unspoken feelings.

#mason mount #mm19 #mason mount imagines #mason mount blurb #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic

[daintyduck99]

(this whole list really is rulie coded 😆)  “you’ve been talking about this crush for months now, when are you going to just go for it?” “i don’t think i can…”  and rulie?

Julie eyes the bags piled in Reggie’s arms as he steps past her into the apartment.

"That looks like a lot more than pizza."

He blushes, then ducks his head, carefully depositing everything on the kitchen table.

"Yeah, I—sorry if it's creepy, but I noticed you've been using your heating pad a lot and I just got paid, so—I got some stuff that I thought might make you feel better."

She slips under his arm in an instant, startling a laugh out of him, and peers into the bags, blinking tears out of her eyes.

He got all of her favorite snacks, plus an adorable calico kitten plush, and he even bought her preferred flavor of frozen pizza.

Who wouldn't be hopelessly in love with this man? Seriously. How is he real?

Julie twists to bury her face in his chest, hugging him fiercely. His arms come around her easily, and she bunches her fingers in the back of his shirt.

"Thank you, Reggie. It's not creepy, it's incredibly sweet. How much do I—"

"Julie, you don't owe me anything. Don't worry about it, okay? I pulled extra hours last week since Nick was out sick, so I had money to burn, anyway. And who was it that saved my ass on that huge lit essay?"

She giggles, only regretting it slightly as her body pangs in protest. "Me?"

"You," he whispers into her hair, and she suppresses a shiver. "That and way more. Let's not start keeping score now, okay?"

Julie snorts as they unravel, playfully poking him in the ribs.

"You say that now. I'd better not hear anything similar from you the next time I decide to get you flowers or something nice for the hell of it, alright?"

Reggie softens. "You'd buy me flowers?"

The smallest things make him happy. She'd pour over every single one of her mother's gardening journals and build him a botanical garden, if she could, just to make him smile like that every single day.

But she swallows all of that down.

She settles on replying with, "I will. But right now I think our ice cream is melting."

His eyes get wide. "Shit! The pizza too!"

It's fine, though. Everything is salvageable, and before long, they're cuddled up on the couch with Julie's calico plush, who needs a name, and her heating pad, watching season three of Stranger Things. By familiar agreement, Reggie finishes her pizza crusts as she digs into her pint.

"You know," Reggie murmurs during a montage of non-stop bickering, "I kind of get why all of the kid couples are fighting, but why are the older couples acting like that, too? Shouldn't a healthy romance hit this point where it's kind of—boring?"

Julie hums. "They didn't think that was interesting enough, I guess?"

"As if they needed more conflict. And just—every couple? Come on, guys."

She laughs, which makes him laugh, too.

But she doesn't summon the courage to ask the question burning on her tongue until the start of the next episode.

"Would you want something like that?"

"An—exploding car?"

She giggles into his shoulder. "No, you goof. A relationship. One that's…not boring, per se, but domestic, I guess."

His fingers knot in the sleeve of her shirt.

"Well—I have you, don't I?"

Huh.

That's…huh.

Still, she knows a deflection from Reggie when she hears one.

And as painful as her next question is…

Julie has to know.

"What about your crush?"

He huffs. "I don't—having a crush as an adult is so embarrassing. I have like, three quarters of a degree! Could we not call it that?"

"Babe. You used that word like seasoning the last time you were drunk. It's fine."

She twists in time to see him wince.

"What—what all did I say?"

"Nothing you haven't told me before," she soothes, fumbling for the remote and pausing the episode. "At least, nothing else sticks out that I remember. I wasn't exactly sober, myself."

Realization dawns in Reggie’s eyes.

"The night that Willie brought us home."

"Yeah. But Reggie…you've been talking about this crush for months now. When are you going to just go for it?"

He worries his lip between his teeth.

"I don't think I can. I—I can't."

"Why not? You're the sweetest man I've ever met. Who wouldn't want you?"

This only seems to stress him out more, for some reason. She hands him the calico, and he squeezes it, exhaling slowly.

"I can't risk it, Julie. It's someone who's already precious to me, and I—I can't even imagine losing them."

He makes the mistake of meeting her eyes and damns himself further by flinching.

"Oh," she breathes, "it's…me?"

He lets out a little self-deprecating laugh.

"Yeah. It was foolish of me to start falling for my roommate, huh?"

"I'm a bigger fool than you," she says softly, which snaps his gaze back to hers. "I'd already fallen for you by the time you agreed to take Flynn's spot on the lease. I had a crush on you…freshman year?"

Reggie gapes at her. "But—we didn't—"

"Really know each other then? Because I barely spoke to anyone?" She shrugs. "You were kind to me, anyway. My mom had just died and I was always so sad and you…didn't treat me like I was some kind of bomb. You made me laugh. And…"

He waits, still staring at her owlishly.

She smiles even as tears sting her eyes.

"You were the one who eventually introduced me to your friends and brought me back out of my shell. Flynn did, too, but…I got over the crush I had on her. Not you, though. With you, I just keep falling."

Reggie’s mouth works, but no sound comes out. Finally, what falls out of it is—

"So I assume you aren't kicking me out?"

Julie laughs so hard that her cramps come back with a vengeance, which worries Reggie so much that they both fall off of the couch in his flailing, but before long they're giggling and grinning like idiots, tangled together on the cheap carpet.

And maybe it's not the most romantic moment to kiss someone, but for them?

For them, it's absolutely perfect.

#friends to lovers prompts #rulie #reggie x julie #ficlets with ash #this post is sponsored by bored together and season three of stranger things #idk y'all what is an ending #julie and the phantoms