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#then again they don’t know about *the whole story* (no one does pretty much*

man-down-in-hatchet-town · 1 day

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So I Spied Another Day...

You know it was a good show when you can’t decide whether your heart is so full from all the love and joy, or so empty because it's over.

Really do buckle up, because this is a long one.

So the show went a little like this. They played the Spies pro-shoot on a giant movie screen, but any time a song started, the audio changed to the instrumental track, the video typically faded to simple background graphics, and the cast came out to perform the number live in concert style. There were also a series of audience participation prompts up on the movie screen, such as standing to deliver a line in unison, giving Lauren a standing ovation for the Pay Attention! Reprise, enthusiastically booing Dr. Baron von Nazi and the still infuriatingly catchy Not So Bad (for anyone who’s curious, in addition to encouraging boos and yelled disagreements with von Nazi, they also cut the audience participation bit from the song).

The energy in the room was so electric and full of joy and warmth. People shouted out iconic lines, went wild for everyone’s entrances, and absolutely lost their damn minds over Curtwen at pretty much every opportunity. And the cast were clearly having just as much fun. Doing This has always been my favorite, and there was something so sweet about them singing it again all these years later. We finally got Joey performing Spies Are Forever (Evil Reprise) again and it was just as chilling and beautiful as you’d expect. And One Step Ahead was just on a whole new level. I don’t want to give anything away, but the details in that performance were INCREDIBLE.

It was simply so special seeing most of the original gang come back while also bringing some new friends along. Shout out to Mariah for coming out at the top of the show so ready to play, setting the tone for the whole evening. Shout out to James for putting his comedy chops on full display (LET JAMES BE FUNNY MORE) and dancing the hell out of One More Shot (another favorite number). And shoutout to Carlos Alazraqui (taking over the roles of Sergio and Vladimir Poopin) and Tommy Link for coming into this crazy part of our world with such enthusiasm and silliness. Brian deserves a medal for agreeing to once again play the most cringe-worthy character in all of Pulp-StarCanWrecked history, and for sounding so fucking good while doing it. Tessa was having a blast in full unhinged glory and I gladly worship at her altar. Lauren is maybe the funniest person alive and deserved her standing ovation, prompted or not. Seeing Joe Walker perform live has been Item Number One on my fandom bucket list since I moved to LA a couple of years ago, and I still can’t quite believe I managed it. I’d wondered if he’d be rusty, but honestly he sounded great; it was like no time had passed. Mary Kate still has one of my all-time favorite voices and her Tatiana remains forever engaging. Joey showed up dressed to slay as a gay evil genius Bond-movie supervillain and proceeded to thoroughly deliver on that promise. And Curt… every time I watch Spies I am increasingly blown away by what he does with this arrogant, broken mess of a character. He clearly loves Agent Mega as much as any of us, and to see a performance refined and powered by such clear and thoughtful passion is just a huge treat.

(And while he wasn’t in the cast, I can’t not mention Corey. Between his roles as director and co-writer, so much of what Spies is comes directly from him and we don’t appreciate that nearly enough. And shout out to Esther Fallick for her wonderful work as Susan and the Informant. She might not have been there in person, but her incredible performance was with us the whole time.)

I know this is preaching to the choir, but Spies Are Forever really is such a special show. It’s a story about recovery, and devastating as it can be, I think there’s also something deeply healing about it at its core. For one thing, I know it played a huge role in mending my relationship with my asexuality. I will forever be grateful to it for existing, to TCB, Talkfine, and the original cast for creating it, and to those same people for maintaining its legacy with the amount of love and care it deserves. It was a privilege to be in the room as so many people came to celebrate this miraculous little musical. There were a couple of minor tech glitches (I wonder if they’ll even include the “big one”—the projector jumping over most of the staircase scene before getting fixed—in the digital ticket version), but nothing that could even begin to damper the magic of the night.

We all know that spies never die (except for Owen and the Informant, oops). And at times like this concert, I think this special little show with its short run in 2016 will prove to be just as immortal.

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 3 days

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the gang + shepherds with m!greaser whose a CRAZY good storyteller, be that reading an actual book or something from his head

Ofc pookie!

Ponyboy Curtis

-he loves your stories

-I mean he loves reading but you amplify the fun of it

-even when you don’t have one of his favorite books in hand

-you captivate him

-your words are just perfectly put together in such a beautiful format

-he doesn’t know how to explain it to other people

-but he LOVES your stories

Johnny Cade

-since he’s more quiet he thinks it’s perfect you’re a good storyteller

-sometimes you guys meet up and he just falls asleep in your lap to the stories

-listening to then makes him calm and relaxed like nothing else

-which is pretty rare in his life to be frank

Sodapop Curtis

-I’m sorry but he’s SUCH an interrupter

-he’s like reading a first grader a story with his attention span

-he asks a question every two seconds

-forgets what you said like five minutes ago so asks again

Darry Curtis

-it’s one of his favorite activities to sit back with a beer as you talk

-you have such a damn way with words

-I mean, you can pull anyone into your stories

-he’s defiantly quiet and respectful as you talk

-and raises his hand up for a pause signal

-when he drank too much beer and needs to use the restroom

-but he’s not missing one damn word

Dallas Winston

-pretends not to listen but secretly listens to every word

-he thinks he’s sly but the whole gang knows he listens

-he actually really likes them and sometimes thinks about them outside of when you tell them

-he ain’t tellin nobody that tho

Two Bit Mathew

-he’s actually pretty respectful

-but he has such fucking over exaggerated emotions

-sad story? He’s not crying but he’s about to (can’t cry when you a greaser 😔)

-happy story? Clapping loud as hell at the end and grinning the whole time

-story that actually makes you think deeply about something? He’s gonna ponder it for hours

-then go on an expressive rant about it in the middle of someone else’s conversation 💀

Steve Randle

-contrarian

-I do think he’s the most likely to be like “Well, that’s just stupid-“

-and get everyone to glare at him

-he shuts up eventually

-but he’s the most annoying

-he won’t admit he likes them even though he very much does

-this hypocrite gets mad at soda for interrupting you after going on a rant about how stupid a character was in your story for doing x and y

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verstappen-cult · 1 month

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I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?

PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.

Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.

“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart.

Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop.

“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?”

“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room.

Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend.

“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”

“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”

Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better.

The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up.

“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.”

Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind.

You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join.

Max doesn’t know what to do.

You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know.

Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say.

It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—

Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down.

When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does.

He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.

Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear.

“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already.

Max starts crying again.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids.

Max doesn’t deserve this.

“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay.

Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks.

“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”

Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”

“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”

“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks.

“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”

“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #poly!f1 #f1 grid x reader

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lemonlover1110 · 3 months

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𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)

*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much

10k Event Masterlist

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Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.

What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.

You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”

“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.

You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes.

You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”

“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.

You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.

You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you.

“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.

“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.

“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.

You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”

“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”

“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.

Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.

You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock.

“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue.

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”

He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum.

He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue.

“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.

You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.

“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.

After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made.

“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.

At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.

“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.

“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.

“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?

Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.

“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind.

“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”

“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work.

You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.

As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”

“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy.

He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.

His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.

You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?

His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.

Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed. You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”

He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.

“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.

Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building.

Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon…

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.

You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,

“Let’s actually grab a drink.”

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erwinsvow · 3 months

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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

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

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

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

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

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

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

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

If only you knew.

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

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

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

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, you’re not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…I just-”

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

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

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

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

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

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” he questions.

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

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

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

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

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

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

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

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

R: She’s five, genius

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

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

“What’s inside? I thought-”

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

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it you believe him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guess that God was on your side today.

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

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

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

Princess: please rafey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make you forget?” he questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

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

“No, I did, I swear-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up again.

“You ready, kid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes pass by.

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

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

“Feel better, kid?”

“So much better, Rafey.”

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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veganineden · 9 months

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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”

A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2

One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?

In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are.

So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”?

My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.”

If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression.

Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity.

Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity.

You know who does?

Aziraphale.

And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.)

In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.

I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation.

Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”

So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.”

And most likely a cottage.

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

- Maya Angelou

Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.

#good omens 2 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #ineffable advocacy #ineffable partners #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #nothing lasts forever #liked by Neil Gaiman

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ginax0916 · 28 days

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°‧★ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ★‧°

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

Genre: Angst & fluff

Synopsis: What happens when they’re both jealous with feelings for each other, but won’t admit it?

(It starts off with texts but it’s a regular story after)

༺☆༻

Y/n pov:

Why does he care so much? It’s not even like we’re dating. Plus he brings girls over all the time why’s it such a big deal that I have a date. It’s like he’s purposely saying all these bad things about him so I’ll cancel the date. I truly don’t get what he means, Jason is a nice guy every girl simps over him. Not to mention he’s captain of the football team. But I mean what can go wrong, we’re just going out to dinner then coming back to my place and there, done.

But part of me feels regret. I don’t know why but I feel regret for not listing to Matt now that Jason is only 5 minutes away. What if he’s right? What if he really is just putting an act on to get into my pants? No he would never. Matt’s just jealous and trying to scare me. After all we’re just roommates.

*knock knock*

Oh fuck. Jason’s here. Suddenly my nerves are increasing. My hands are sweaty and my dress is too tight. What the fuck do I do.

“Hey Jason”

“Hey pretty, you read to go?” He says. But for some reason it feels weird when he says it.

“Uh yea let me just grab my coat” I say as I walk to my bedroom and put it on. Before I walk out I see myself in the mirror. Is the dress too short? Too slutty? Suddenly I’m overthinking everything.

“Ok let’s go” I saw as I walk back to him.

“You look beautiful by the way” Jason says. Yet it still feels weird.

“Thank you. You look good too” I say trying to convince myself that he does.

We get in the car and he starts driving, about 5 minutes into the car ride I feel his hand creep onto my knee. And it keeps moving up till it rests on my inner thigh. I wanna push his hand off but I don’t want to be rude.

“Is that fine?” He asks.

“Uh yea” I could’ve said fucking no.

The rest of the ride is filled with an awkward and uncomfortable silence.

The whole dinner was extremely awkward. We barely agreed on anything and he kept making weird comments about how good my body looked in the dress. I just wanted to be done with it and go home.

“You read to go?” Jason asked. Fuck yes I am.

“Yea let’s go” I say.

Gladly he payed for the dinner which was nice of him, but it still doesn’t change the fact that the night was extremely uncomfortable.

We get in the car and I expect him to turn it on but he doesn’t.

“Are you gonna turn it on?” I ask trying to sound as nice as possible.

“You look so pretty” He says as he puts his hand on my thigh, too far up for my liking.

“Oh uh thanks” I saw trying to move away from him.

“That dress makes you look so good” Jason mumbles as he gets closer to me.

“I bet it would look even better if it was on the floor”

“Wha-” I get cut off my his lips on mine.

“What the fuck” I raise my voice as I push him off of me.

“Come on don’t be a brat” He grabs my face and attempts to kiss me again.

“Get the fuck off me” I scream as I try to unbuckle my self.

“I said don’t be a fucking brat” Jason raises his voice as he grabs my body and tries to pull me over to his side of the car.

“I said get off me you jackass!” I scream and I push him hard enough so he lets go and I get out of the car.

As I’m walking away from the car I hear the engine start and before I can move away he drives by me speeding through the puddle that was on the ground, making it splash all over me.

“You’re fucking kidding”

I sit on the curve of the parking lot, soaking wet in disgusting water and pull out my phone to text the one person who warned me this was going to happen.

He’s gonna kill me.

I stay here where he told me freezing because of the water and my jacket is soaked so it’s not much use. But soon enough I see Matt’s car pull up in front of me.

“Oh baby what happened? Why are you soaking wet” Matt says the second he gets out of the car.

“You were right. I should’ve listened I’m sorry” I sniffle as I feel tears swell up in my eyes.

“Hey hey it’s ok don’t cry. You did nothing wrong” He says while wrapping his arms around me holding me close.

“But you warned me and I was bitch and didn’t listen” I start to cry, keeping my head on Matt’s chest.

“No you’re not a bitch. You just made a mistake and now you can learn from it yea? You didn’t know this was gonna happen don’t bring yourself down for it” He comforts me.

“Here put this on and I’ll take you home and then you can tell me everything that happened how does that sound?” Matt asks as he wraps his coat around me.

“Mhm yea” I nod.

“Come on let’s go sweets I don’t want you to get sick” He grabs my hand helping me get up and we get into the car.

Instead of there being an awkward silence, there’s a comforting silence.

I look over to Matt and I feel butterflies in my stomach. The way the moonlight shines through the window lighting his face up. The way his blue eyes reflect the stars in the sky. The way his jawline is so sharp and defined and his cheekbones more prominent than ever. The way his nose compliments his face oh so well. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about my roommate, it’s not right.

But what if I don’t wanna be just roommates with Matt anymore?

Should I make a part 2 for this or no??

#y/n #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #text post #text

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thegettingbyp2 · 2 months

Note

Austin butler x reader

Reader and Austin are married and Austin does his first interview as a married man and tell them about how he met the reader and there love story plus maybe to add to the cuteness he announces that he is also gonna be a father

A Lot of Changes

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You were sitting front row in the audience, waiting for Austin, your husband, you walk onstage. He was currently in the middle of the press tour for Masters of the Air but this was his first interview since your wedding and you knew that he was going to be asked about it. You looked down at your hand, smiling when you saw the dainty gold band that was now sitting on your ring finger before being jolted out of your thoughts when you heard the rest of the audience applause as Austin walked on stage.

He’d spoken about Masters of the Air for about fifteen minutes before the interviewer changed the topic. ‘So, we’ve seen on your lovely girlfriend, no, your lovely wifes Instagram a couple of wedding photos,’ he said, causing Austin to smile softly, looking down at his ring before lifting his head, his eyes finding yours instantly and his smile growing. ‘How was it?’

‘One of the happiest days of my life,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’d been ready to propose pretty much a week after we started dating so it’s been a long time coming but it was so worth it. We got married in this big stately home and she looked so beautiful,’ he said, his voice trailing off as he found you once again in the audience.

‘You were ready to propose after a week? And how long had you been dating before the wedding?’

‘So, we met when filming began again for Elvis after lockdown and she was wandering around the set, offering to get coffees for everyone. I’d noticed that she started doing that pretty much every day so one morning when I heard that she was making her rounds, I decided to go and get her a coffee and surprise her. The only downside is I now have to get her coffee every morning,’ he joked, making everyone else in the studio laugh.

‘And how did you propose?’

‘Well, I wanted to make this big deal of it, I had a plan where I’d booked a couple of days off work and I was going to take her out on a date, you know, really try to woo her. And then because we were in Australia, we were going to spend a couple of days in Sydney and on the last evening I was going to take her to a show at the Opera House, she’s always wanted to go and I was going to propose after the show, by the water. It didn’t really turn out like that, I jumped the gun a bit and our trip to Sydney ended up being a bit of an engagement-moon kind of thing,’ Austin explained, laughing softly. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night, about a year and a half ago now.

You were waiting in Austin’s trailer for him to finish filming, curled up on the sofa with a film playing softly on the TV. You’d spent the day packing a couple of bags for you and Austin after he’d surprised you this morning by telling you that he was taking you to Sydney for a long weekend. The sound of the door opening made your head turn in the direction of the sound and you smiled tiredly as you watched Austin walk in.

‘How was filming?’ you asked softly when he came and sat down on the sofa next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing heavily.

‘Long,’ he replied, the end of the word being cut off slightly by a yawn and you moved your arms to wrap around him, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly. ‘That feels amazing,’ he murmured, his eyes closing as he let his weight lean onto yours more.

‘Well, you don’t have to go back onto that set for the next few days. We’re going on holiday and I don’t want you even thinking about work for the whole time we’re away, you hear me?’ you asked, tilting his head to face you. As soon as his eyes were on yours, his body relaxed and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before groaning against your lips.

‘I still need to pack, I was going to on my break earlier but I completely forgot. I won’t be long and then we can go.’

‘I’ve packed your bags for you, they’re on the bed with mine so we’re good to go whenever you’re ready. I didn’t know what kind of things you wanted to take so I’ve packed some hoodies as well that you might - ’

‘Marry me.’

His words cut you off straight away and you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, to look at him. ‘What did you just say?’ you asked as Austin moved to sit more upright on the sofa, hooking your legs over his arms and pulling them across his lap, trying to pull you closer to him. He leaned in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you.

‘Marry me,’ he repeated softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. ‘I had this big plan where I was going to take you to the Opera House and propose while we were away but I couldn’t wait.’

‘But I’m in ratty sweatpants, one of your hoodies, this isn’t the time to propose to someone! I mean, I look - ’

‘Perfect. You look perfect ,’ he said, grinning at you now as he tugged you even closer, until your nose was brushing against his. ‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’

‘Will we still get to go to the Opera House?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, laughing.

‘Then yes!’ you exclaimed, pulling him in for a kiss.

When Austin had finished recounting the story of his proposal, the studio erupted in applause and you couldn’t stop the blush from rising in your cheeks. ‘And how has married life been treating you?’ the host asked, grinning at Austin.

‘Incredible, we had our honeymoon in Spain and since being back, everything’s just felt so right and amazing and there’s a lot of changes going on at the minute so it’s terrifying but so exciting at the same time.’

‘What kind of changes are you making?’

‘Well, uh,’ Austin chuckled nervously, his hand running along his thigh as he adjusted his seat and looked over at you, looking for permission. Smiling back at him, you nodded gently. Austin grinned back at you before turning back to the host. ‘We’ve been changing one of the guest rooms in the house into a nursery. About three months ago, we found out that we’re going to be parents.’

The applause that followed was deafening and you and Austin couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, neither of you knowing what you were expecting. Once the applause had died down, the host wrapped up his interview with Austin. Austin thanked him and stood. Instead of heading off of the set, he made his way over to you, sitting on the floor in front of you and grabbing your wrists, draping your arms around his neck.

‘You were amazing up there,’ you murmured into his ear, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head as his fingers absentmindedly began to play with yours.

‘Thank you, baby,’ he replied, craning his neck around to look at you, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘How are you guys doing?’

‘We’re just fine,’ you said, smiling warmly at him, ‘the amount of interviews you’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, they’re going to know just how big their daddy is before they’re even born.’

Austin tilted his head backwards until your face was upside down in his eyes. ‘I love you. Both of you.’

You leaned down to quickly peck his lips before moving your hands to cup either side of his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks. ‘We love you too. Now, be quiet, we’re trying to listen to the rest of the show.’

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader

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ickadori · 4 months

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I read the borrowed time piece you did and WAS OBSESSED! I am dying to know the fallout of that whole thing. How on earth does Yuji react when he realizes Sukuna just borrowed his body to eat you out? Where do they even go from there? Would you consider writing a follow up piece or even just share your thoughts on what you think would happen next? THANK YOU

-A thirsty follower

i don’t plan on making a part two on that, but if i did, it would more than likely feature both sukuna and yuji, once again.

it would probably start off with yuji apologizing and trying to explain that sukuna had taken over somehow, despite yuji claiming to always have control over him, only for sukuna to interject somewhere in between to correct the story. probably smth like this ~

“I don’t know how he took control, but he did—I tried to stop him, I really did, and I did stop him...just at the wrong time.” The blush on Yuji’s face is concerning, but you can’t think about his wellbeing too much when you’re no better. Your skin feels hot all over, sweat beading at the back of your neck and heart hammering in your chest, and your hands nervously pull and stretch at the end of your sweater.

I should really change, you think. No, you should just kick Yuji out completely and just transfer to the Kyoto school and never show your face around here again. Yeah, you could do that, that’d work.

“Your persistence in painting me as the only fucked up one is really pissing me off, brat.” You nearly squawk at Sukuna’s voice, a red eye focused on you, or more specifically, the glossy sheen that still coats the insides of your thighs. You press them tightly together and glare at him -them-, and a deep, gravelly snicker sounds as a result.

Yuji slaps a hand over his cheek in an attempt to quiet him, an attempt that has failed time and time again in the past, and fails again as he simply makes the hand materialize on the back of Yuji’s palm. “Tell her exactly how I was able to take over - tell her what you were doing.”

“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything!” There’s a panicked look in his eyes, and you tense when Yuji turns to you, scooting closer to where you’re sat on the couch and leaning into your space. His lips move a mile a minute, and your stomach clenches as you take in the wetness that’s still spread across the bottom half of his face. Oh, God. “—really don’t know how he was—”

“He came to the thought of fucking that tight, sweet cunt so hard that he passed out, and we both know what happened next.” Sukuna grins, Yuji pales, and you blink, trying and failing to ignore the way your panties become even stickier. “Surprised it didn’t happen sooner. The pervert can barely go two seconds without creaming his pants when he’s around you.” You want to call him a hypocrite, a damned nasty one, but you find that your words are stuck in your throat, eyes unconsciously trailing down to marvel at the bulge in Yuji’s pants. It’s big...how is it so big? “Let’s also not forget that you didn’t take control, I gave it to you to shut you up.”

Sukuna gives you an unsettling once over.

“He wouldn’t shut up about wanting to taste you himself - he nearly cried when I got you to come on our tongue. I let him clean up the mess afterwards.” Your mind goes back to the softer, near desperate licks and sucks that had transpired after you came, and your cheeks burn at the reveal that it had been Yuji happily lapping between your thighs and not just Sukuna. “And judging by the way you keep rubbing your thighs together... he’s gonna be cleaning up another pretty soon.”

#++ asks #++ yuji #i dont feel like writing a full fic of them fucking kadfasdk but it would go down something like that!!#sorry to everyone who wants a part 2 #-cries-

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wakkoroni · 7 months

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I want y’all to imagine Nico, after the battle of manhattan, all alone, roaming around and being homeless pretty much. He probably did some stuff to stay alive/ did some stupid stuff cause he was a) young and alone and innocent and b) IN THE WRONG CENTURY

Imagine like Nico revealing the shit he’s done to like the seven (plus Will but I feel like Will would already know)

Nico: yeah so like I learned the “don’t take candy from strangers” the hard way

Percy; what the fuck does that mean

Nico: um so after the battle of manhattan went down and I left, things have changed in society that I didn’t know about. And the fact that I was in a whole different continent didn’t help either. So uh in the 1930s, it was all talk about how the future was going to be great and how everyone’s problems will be solved

Percy: yeah?

Nico: right so uh I’m walking down the New York, being my little depressed self-

Jason: *trying not to laugh*

Nico: -and this guy walks up to me and he said “you look like your having a tough times” and pulls out this baggy with like a pill inside, and says “here this should take all your sorrows away, for a just a few hours and if you need more you just have to find me”

Annabeth: you didn’t-

Nico: looking back at this I should’ve known, but then again how would I have known? No one taught me this shit. And he phrased it like this really cool invention and in my head I’m like oh wow times really has changed

Will: babe you are a idiot and I’m surprised you even still alive

Nico, laughing: me too actually- I should not have lived past a lot of stuff but anyway I took it and thanked him and ummmmm one minute I was in the streets of New York and the next I was in the back of a cop car in Jersey with a headache.

Jason: YOU GOT ARRESTED?

Nico: yup. But legally I don’t exist and I still don’t cause I managed to run away before they could get my DNA or smth idk the process and then went back to New York and tried to find the guy again

Percy: why would you try and find him?

Nico: so I could get more? But either I just have a horrible sense of direction or he vanished cause I couldn’t find him anymore

Jason: the city’s confusing streets saved you from an addiction

Nico: no actually-

Percy, still trying to wrap his head around this: wait so no one warned you about taking drugs?

Nico: I didn’t even know what they were, well that’s kind of a lie I knew that they existed but I didn’t know what they looked like?

Percy: and the baggy didn’t seem suspicious?

Nico: it was a free sample

Percy: I- I don’t even know what to say

Nico: to be fair they treated the common cold with like cocaine back in my day so-

Percy: dude- *turns to Will* you don’t seemed surprised by this

Will, shrugging: wait til you hear about the “friend” he made

Nico, clapping his hands together: that’s a story for another time, hopefully never

Annabeth: I want to know-

Will: you really don’t-

Nico: if you thought this was bad the other was way worse

#the vibe speaks #nico di angelo #percy jackson #jason grace #annabeth chase #nico di angelo headcanon #this was a silly thought #but like he probably did learn stuff the hard way cause this man was tossed in another century and lived on the streets #incorrect pjo quotes #will solace #solangelo

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fuckmyskywalker · 6 months

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NSFW Alphabet — Dilf!Anakin.

— CW: 18+! Smut. Age gap. Kinky shit (Letter D mentions fauxcest so if you are uncomfortable with it, do not interact) Anakin is 40 - Reader is 23!

— a/n: Oh my god! Anya! Finally more Dilf!Anakin content?! Yes! I had this idea a while ago and I couldn't get it off my mind </3. This will also give more context to my lore of the DA!Series. Enjoy!

— Anakin Masterlist ! ! !

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When he was young, Anakin couldn’t care much about aftercare. He was used to random hookups and leaving before sunrise (That is until he accidentally got his high school sweetheart pregnant… with twins). So, he was never big on it; he didn’t know how much it meant and how important aftercare was. Needless to say, he was kind of a bitch.

As he grows older, he realizes sex is more than penis in vagina action. Yes, Anakin actually matures by the time he meets you, he is a whole different person; He will kiss you, ask you if it was good, if he hurts you, he will make sure you are satisfied. Anakin takes great pride in how he treats you after sex. You want dinner? He’s on his way, you want a bath? You won’t move a finger. You want more? Say the word and this man will be on top of you again. When he is particularly rough with you, and if you feel the urge to cry, Anakin will keep you close to his chest and caress your hair, kiss your tears away, and tell you how proud he is of you for allowing him to use your body, and that no matter what he says/does during sex, he loves you.

“You did so good, darling. Let me take care of you now, okay? Let me spoil you.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dilf!Anakin loves his hands. I see him as a very physical person, so he enjoys touching you and feeling your warm skin underneath his fingertips (even if he has a prosthetic arm but… that’s a story for another day). He gropes, squeezes, slaps, touches anything within his reach, He will always have a hand on your waist, your hips, on your lower back, and since age made him a hopeless romantic, holding your hand.

His favorite body part on you is either your breasts or your legs: The first one because like I said, he loves to touch. He will cup your tits and play with them, jiggle them; and of course, Anakin could spend entire hours toying with your nipples until they are puffy, swollen, and aching… ready for him to suck them. The second one goes in a similar fashion, he loves to caress your legs from your ankles to your thighs, but he also loves to have them wrapped around his hips as he fucks you and squeezing his head as he eats your pussy until you cry from overstimulation.

“I could die happily in between your tits…”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Before he wasn’t a big of coming inside; it was messy, risky, too many problems. But Dilf!Anakin loves to come inside you. Not only because he has a huge breeding kink— but because the sensation gives him ten more years of life. Don’t get me wrong though, Anakin will gladly allow you to swallow his cum (which with age get’s heavier, more sticky, and less liquidy) and it’s not a secret that he enjoys covering your tits and ass with cum. But let’s be honest, this man will always prefer to cum inside, to let you feel how good he fills you, and definitely with the intention of getting you pregnant.

“I’m gonna fill you up real good, darling— gonna fuck you until you are full of my cum, uh-uh? Until you are round and swollen with my baby.”

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay. Okay. This is dirty.

Anakin likes it when you call him “Daddy” while he fucks you, sure. But, there is something that he never really thought about until he started formally dating you and that is… being called “Dad” instead of “Daddy” during sex, and not even during sex!

He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to it, but he is. It gets worse when sometimes due to the age gap between you guys, he ends up scolding you like an actual dad would do. He would rather die than ask you to do it, but the ick is always there. The dirty thought is constantly circling around his head. He wants you to call him dad and cry for him to fuck you harder, the mere idea gets him hard as fuck and he has to rush and find you to release the tension. Maybe one day he will gather the courage to speak.

“You are taking Dad’s cock so well… do you like it, baby? Say it.”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I’d say very experienced. Age gives you that experience, and it’s no news that Anakin had multiple partners before he “settled down”. He knows how to use his dick, his hands, his tongue… yeah, he knows how to find the clit and what to do with it. Dilf!Anakin knows what he is doing, and he will use that experience to make you cry and beg for more. Believe me, you will never experience better, bigger orgasms than the ones this man gives you.

“No one will fuck you like I do, sweetheart.”

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Either cowgirl or doggy; depends on his mood.

Cowgirl because he likes to see you work for it. The way your face melts into a burning pleasure, how your tits bounce, and despite you controlling the pace he still can control you. Anakin will slap your thighs, use your ass as leverage to bounce you up and down his cock, and definitely suck your nipples while you ride him.

Doggy for when he is feeling more dominant, frustrated, even angry; Anakin will yank your hair, slap your ass, even your back if you let him. This is when he is the most rough. The view of your ass and thighs jiggling every time slams his hips against yours gives him all the relief he needs.

“That’s it, ride my cock dollface. Bounce your tits for me.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more on the romantic side than goofy. He can still smile and chuckle, but more at you than with you. He will mock you constantly, and most of his jokes are derogatory. However, Anakin will be dead-serious if he is in full dom-mode. Not even a smile, and if he smiles it’s going to be a mean, venomous smile (probably followed up by an insult).

“Look at you darling, all stupid for my cock. You are gorgeous.” He says with a breathy chuckle, kissing your sweaty jaw.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed, but not completely shaven. When he was young, he was barely groomed, so you can imagine the difference. Now, he shaved not because he thinks it’s better, but because he feels more comfortable keeping it at bay. Plus he hates how itchy it is when he shaves completely. If you want him to grow it more, he’ll do it, he isn’t picky in that manner.

On you, he doesn’t really care; I can see him having a preference for his partner not shaving regularly (I don’t know why, Dilf!Anakin just gives me those vibes). But as long as you are comfortable he is pleased.

“I don’t care about that baby, I’ll eat your pretty pussy anyway.”

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Very intimate! He likes to make it private, memorable, even if you fuck a hundred times Anakin will do his best efforts to make sure you are satisfied. From the first time, he emptied his load inside you the words “I love you” escaped his lips; and that’s a trait that never wore off. Since his youth, Anakin was extremely passionate and obsessive, and the few times he fell in love he was head over heels for his partner. For a while he thought that part of him died (after his divorce and the bad experiences of an unhappy marriage), but when he met you and began dating you, that side of him lost gone was back. Like I said he is a hopeless romantic and he will spoil you rotten.

“I love you, sweetheart. You make me the happiest man in the world.”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He used to jack off twice a week, maybe three if he was too stressed (either work or the twins who got on his nerves). He isn’t a fan of it so he would do it quickly, He isn’t a fan of visual porn so he might just use his imagination and call it a day.

Now, that he is with you, he can use you instead.

“Your hand looks so tiny around my cock, baby.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding: Speaks volumes. Anakin realized with age that he wanted a larger family, but after the twins, his ex-wife wasn’t thrilled with the idea of another baby. You are young, pretty, fertile. After discussing it and after you gave him the green light, Anakin will be a menace. Fucking you over and over not only because he wants you and loves your body, but because he is dying to see you carry his children. The ownership undertones that come with it are absolutely thrilling.

Cum play: He is nasty. He is disgusting. He is filthy. He loves to gather the cum that leaks down your thighs and push it back with his fingers. He would even lick it and spit it in your mouth. Anything related to cum is okay with him. Anakin thinks that men who are disgusted with kissing their girl after she gave them a blowjob aren’t real men.

Free use (this one includes other kinks such as degrading, housewife kink, ownership, even dumbification but I will use it as a generalization): This is more of a guilty pleasure. And once he makes sure you are comfortable with it he won’t stop. Anakin will be rough, pushing you against the kitchen counter, against the shower wall, against his desk just to fuck you, claiming is his right as your boyfriend. You aren’t allowed to deny him (and being honest, you don’t want to), and if you try to push him away, he will punish you by fucking your face or slapping you with his belt.

“Shut up and spread your legs for me, that’s all you are good for.”

L = Location (favorite places to do they do)

He prefers his house because is more intimate, he can take his time, but Anakin won’t deny an opportunity. He can (and has) fuck you in his car, your place, in a restaurant’s bathroom… if he can make it quick he can put up with fucking you in a more public setting. His favorite places will always be his bed and the couch.

“You have five minutes to cum before the waiter returns or I’ll leave you high and dry here.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He is still as horny as when he was 20; so, pretty much anything you do will turn him on. He has a preference for when you do housework, he thinks you look hot (and it kind of makes him feel guilty), and when you are mad. Anakin is hard as a rock when he sees you arguing on the phone with one of your coworkers, that fiery attitude, witty responses, and aggressive body language… be ready for a long night.

“I can’t help it, you look so gorgeous making dinner for me…”

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Dilf!Anakin is still very much possessive. So, sharing you is a big, red no. He is strictly monogamous so the thought of a threesome of seeing you with someone else, or even him being with someone else makes his stomach twist with jealousy. You belong to him and him only.

“Say you belong to me. Say it. Scream it so the whole neighborhood knows only I fuck you this good.”

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

When he was young he was more of receiving, he was kind of selfish and pretty much an idiot. Now, he loves to eat you. Anakin could spend hours buried in between your legs, lapping at you and forcing orgasm after orgasm until you are so drowned in pleasure you can’t even talk. This old bastard knows how to use his tongue well. He sucks on your clit, fucks you with his tongue, and he loves to spit on your pussy. Still, he is very much a fan of receiving so he will never deny you if you want to suck him off. He can be a little rough so prepare for a lot of facefucking.

“You taste so fucking good, come for me, darling. Make a mess on my face.”

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He is fast and deep. He likes to see your body shiver with pleasure and when he gets rough he throbs at the view of your tight pussy struggling to accommodate his size. When he is feeling more gentle he will slow down but normally he still fucks with his whole soul in it.

“Take it, take my cock like a good girl, okay?”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he needs it, he will take it. Not his favorite but it works. Anakin will prefer a quickie if he has to leave in a bit and he is really horny, for example, he has to pick up the twins in 20 minutes, or he has to leave for work in 15 minutes. He prefers to take his time to pleasure you and he firmly believes in the importance of foreplay.

“I gotta go dollface, let me fill you up before I do.”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He is more versatile now. He listens to your proposals and opinions. The only risk or experiment Anakin will never consider is a threesome. You managed to introduce new activities to your sex life and Dilf!Anakin learned that being pegged and having his ass eaten is actually pretty good. If his partner wants to try something new, he will try it first before he judges it.

“Where did you even buy a strap that size?”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Three to four rounds. But they are long and heavy. Like I've said before he prefers to take his time. Anakin will at least make you come one or two times before he does. Even overstimulates you if he feels like it. Each round varies on his mood as well! From 40 minutes to almost two hours. He always says there’s no rush. He can go from 9 to 5, 5 to 9.

“Gimme me another one, princess. Just one more okay? And it’s done.” (it’s a lie!)

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Young Anakin was stupid. He used to say he would never allow a toy to replace his cock but now he is more than happy to leave your hands tied up and press a bullet vibrator against your clit. He will even make things that aren’t toys into toys. This one time he won a back massager at a Christmas lottery at work, and he used it on your for hours. The massager was kinda shitty so the motor burnt after an hour or so, and multiple times he has used the handle of your hairbrush to fuck you. He isn’t opposed to toys on him, and his favorite (embarrassing!) is a prostate stimulator you surprised him with.

“Spread your legs further baby. if you can fit my cock in you, you can fit this.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. He is so mean when he feels like it. Anakin won’t stop until you are begging for him to let you come, for him to stop, for more… it makes him feel young again and gives him a surge of power that keeps him going.

“You can take it, shut up. I’m not even halfway done with you.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t loud but he groans and moans with that husky, deep voice of his. When he is about to empty himself inside you he might get slightly louder, more aggressive even. He is very talkative though. He will never shut up with both praises and degrading.

“I’m gonna come inside you baby— don’t fucking move. I’m gonna fill you up— fuck— real good…”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is into anal play. And it’s entirely your fault. When you finger his ass while he is fucking you missionary, he climaxes almost instantly. He wasn’t sure in the beginning but he is so happy he listened to you. Subsequently, he also enjoys having his ass eaten.

“You are such a dirty whore eating me like that.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

OH— 8.5 inches, not 9, God isn’t that graceful. It’s more thick and slightly curved upwards. Uncut. Due to age his balls are heavier and his sack hangs a bit but it’s hotter. Even his dick is dilf material. His pubes are a slightly darker blonde color than his hair and he has a pretty vein on the side that pulses every time he comes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit.”

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. High. High when he is next to you. He is a horny old man. I won’t say he fucks you daily because you both have work schedules and things to do, but he will gladly fuck you daily if he has the chance. You make him feel like a hormonal teenager all over again.

“It’s not my fault you are so hot, dollface. I just want to make you scream my name all day.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He sleeps until you are asleep. He makes sure you are comfortable and pleased. Anakin loves spooning so prepare for him to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his face on your neck. When he sleeps he snores a bit so sorry if that’s a problem… it is not, shut up. Cuddling and waking up tangled in each other's arms is always guaranteed with Dilf!Anakin.

“Sleep well baby, you did soo good. You make me so proud, I love you.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skwalker #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you

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magnus-rhymes-with-swagness · 9 months

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OKAY who wants to hear about why i think nimona challenges amatonormativity? you do! 🫵

one of the main ways this is accomplished is through ballister and ambrosius’s relationship. it’s arguable that it doesn’t necessarily fit the traditional model of romance - not only are they a queer interracial couple, and not only is their relationship ambiguous in the book, but there are certain instances, especially in the movie, that subvert traditional ideas of romance and friendship.

one instance that really stands out to me is when the director asks ambrosius what’s on his mind and he goes on his imagined rant about how arm-chopping isn’t a love language - you know the one. when he mentions ballister, he refers to him as “the man i love, my best friend.” and not just one or the other, but both! the man i love, and my best friend. he places equal emphasis on both the romantic and platonic aspects of the relationship, valuing ballister in both a romantic context and a platonic context without treating either one as more important than the other.

and even moments such as the first “i love you” and the kiss manage to subvert tradition. both of these things are generally seen as a pretty big deal, especially in fiction - if the characters are kissing or saying “i love you,” it’s usually a moment in which everything changes. a line is drawn, dividing the story into after and now. sometimes it’s dramatic and climactic, with fireworks and a swell of music, but even when it isn’t it’s still seen as a turning point of sorts. now it’s official, now it’s real. but this isn’t the case in nimona. both moments are certainly significant - they do a good job of showcasing the character development and where ballister and ambrosius are on their respective journeys, and are certainly important in terms of representation - but neither one follows the path that most fictional romance does.

another way in which nimona challenges amatonormativity would be the emphasis on friendship! in the tavern scene (in the movie) when ambrosius suggests killing nimona, ballister disagrees and says “she’s my friend.” ambrosius replies with “aren’t i more than that?”, implying he’s more important than a friend - thus upholding amatonormative ideas. ballister becomes angry at that and leaves - challenging this idea and prioritizing his platonic relationship with nimona over his romantic one with ambrosius, as nimona is the one he wants to defend.

additionally, a big part of this scene is the way ballister deliberately rejects institute values while ambrosius unintentionally upholds them. and because the story challenges homophobia and transphobia (and other forms of bigotry) through the lens of the institute, it would make sense for it to challenge amatonormativity too! it’s something that’s become incredibly normalized, to the point that lots of people don’t even know it exists, and this is reminiscent of the institute brainwashing, especially when it comes to ambrosius - he’s been manipulated his whole life and probably genuinely doesn’t understand the level to which he’s internalized institute beliefs.

ballister prioritizes nimona many times, actually. when he tells ambrosius she’s “smart, kind, and quite sophisticated,” when he’s overjoyed to see her again at the end, when he refuses to kill her and saves her instead. over and over, he proves how much he cares about her, even when this involves directly going against what ambrosius wants - which, of course, is really what the institute wants. a core tenant of amatonormativity is the false notion that romantic relationships are more important or valuable than other types of relationships, but ballister actively goes against this!

to conclude, as a story that at its core is about identity and challenging societal beliefs, nimona defies expectations and traditional ideas of what it should or shouldn’t be. it’s possible that amatonormativity wasn’t what the creators had in mind, but the story still manages to challenge it with grace and elegance. just like its main character, nimona refuses to conform to what others want it to be.

#nimona #nimona movie #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #ambrosius x ballister #nimona netflix #nd stevenson #nimona spoilers #i could go on tbh but i think this is a digestible amount #often when i’m writing a meta i’ll walk around in circles talking into my phone recording my thoughts out loud #and then i’ll play it back and put the most coherent stuff into a list which eventually becomes paragraphs #and the combined recordings for this one are about half an hour in total lol #i’m just. absolutely in love with the whole story. both the book and the movie mean so incredibly much to me #changed my life shaped me as a person etc etc :’)#OH i almost forgot. this analysis is dedicated to the person who sent me aphobic anon hate about it before it even existed lol #i know i said i wouldn’t post anything if people couldn’t be normal but idc actually. seethe with rage! <3 #my words #meta

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cat3ch1sm · 7 months

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you've made a lot of fics about killua, but never a general relationship headcanon? 🌸 could I request that?

By the way, I love the way you write the characters, it always feels pretty Canon and I enjoy reading your works a whole lot <33

🌱~ messages like this always make my day💚 than you so much!! im so happy you enjoy my works <33 more are on the way! ilysm 🫶🏾🫶🏾

these are way longer than i thought they were gonna be wow😭😭 turn out i have a whole bunch of killua relationship hcs in my brain and you seem to have broken the dam😭 i hope you like them lmaoo

𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

°˖ ⊹ ꒰🌱꒱ ♡ definitely don’t expect killua to be the sappy, super overly affectionate type. he will either call you a dumbass or stupid or some other insult. but when you protest he’ll just be like “whatt? i meant it in a nice way.”

killua is not a pda guy. the most he’ll do in public is hold your hand and even that’s a coin toss. he isn’t that fond of things like that anyway, but mostly he’s just worried that if an enemy of his sees you with him that they’ll target you in order to hurt killua. he’ll never admit that, though.

in private it is a different story. he lets you play with his hair and likes to lay with his head in your lap. once he fell asleep like that and woke up so embarrassed even though you told him over and over that it was fine and you thought it was cute, which just made it worse. it’s rare he’s the one initiating physical affection, but it does happen. it’s slightly awkward when you first start dating though, since obviously that’s a new concept to killua. i can definitely imagine him doing that yawn and stretch move when you’re watching a movie or something, but when you reciprocate his affection killua gets all flustered.

killua has legitimately no idea what to do in a romantic relationship. hell, he doesn’t know what a good family relationship should even look like, and he never made a friend until he was like 12, so healthy relationships are a foreign concept. he will be absolutely flabbergasted when you buy him gifts every once in a while just to make him happy, and he’s shocked when you buy him chocolate robots for Valentine’s Day, and he is beyond confused when you give him compliments or tell him that you love him.

killua always admonishes you when you buy him stuff. whenever you bring him something he’ll just stare at it and scoff. “why do you even bother buying me stuff? i’m rich enough to buy your whole family and more, so why do you even bother getting me stuff like this?”

he always takes it anyway so don’t even mind him. killua has a specific place where he keeps your gifts. when he’s away from home he keeps them on him in a knapsack or wherever he’s staying at the time, but when he’s at the zoldyck mansion, killua locks everything away in a box safely hidden and always keeps the key on him so his family can’t get to it.

speaking of his family. you are definitely out of your mind if you think killua is willingly taking you to meet them. absolutely not in a million years. if ever killua does need to go back to his home for something, usually to check on alluka, you are staying wherever you are until he gets back. he will also ask gon to keep an eye on you if gon happens to be traveling with you. killua would rather his family just not know about you at all lest the zoldycks do the same to you as they sometimes do with alluka- capture you, and then hold you over killua’s head and threaten you whenever they want him to do something.

okay enough with the angsty stuff and back to how literally clueless killua is about dating. when gon who is the rizz god for some fucking reason informs him that he needs to take you out on dates, killua is blindsided. at first he just takes you places he likes to go, like the skate park or heavens arena to watch fights, but gon pulls him aside again at some point and says that he needs to take you places that you enjoy. which is something that killua is kind of stubborn about at first, but he does actually want to make you happy, so he obliges.

there’s this post on like twitter or something where this guy is talking about how since spending time with his gf she has him watching stupid shit he would never watch like twilight or grey’s anatomy. that is basically what happens with killua. he’s doing stuff with you that he never thought he would do in a million years and enjoying it for whatever reason. don’t tell anyone though because he gets so embarrassed

one of the things he found out that he likes is wearing eyeliner. you made sone offhanded comment about it and that his eyes look like a cat’s and suddenly you were doing eyeliner for him. it took a lot of convincing, but when killua sees how good it looks on him, he’s asking you to do it for him every day. eventually you teach him how to do it himself as well

killua winds up going to gon a lot for relationship advice. what does he do when you’re sad? go to gon. what should he do for your birthday? ask gon! should he get you new shoes or a new jacket? what do you think, gon?

killua rarely lets you pay for stuff. he’s rich so he doesn’t see why he should

whenever you’re on your phone or reading a book or something, killua will randomly appear behind you and put his head on your shoulder and just watch what you’re doing in silence. but if he sees you’re doing something like online shopping, just scrolling through items, killua will tap the screen whenever he sees something he likes for you. he especially likes to pick out your clothes, and he’s actually good at it. unlike the going out on dates thing, he picks out what he thinks you will like and what looks good on you. honestly killua was the only character who actually changed clothes every day in the show so he’s good with fashion lmao. most of the time he’ll buy the item for you too

killua also doesn’t mind too much if you steal his clothes, like his hoodies or hats. he might not let you take the newer stuff, but he doesn’t mind letting you parade around in his clothes. on the flip side he will also steal some of yours.

killua is very much that bf who claims “im not hungry” but then proceeds to steal half your food. so you’ve learned that whenever he says that to order twice the food

around people he knows, mainly people he doesn’t like, killua likes to show you off- but in a subtler way. like he might casually hold your hand just to show everyone “yeah, i have a partner. no big deal haha”

you literally never have to worry about killua cheating on you. he is fiercely loyal. he’s not one of those bfs that, when approached by another girl or guy, is like “oh, im sorry, but i have a partner.” nah he’s sprinting full speed in the opposite direction of whoever’s trying to approach him. either that or he’s just super rude to anyone who asks for his number or is romantically interested in him.

*cue random mf who wants him* “hi! i thought you seemed really cool and i wanted to know if-“

“nah i got a partner”

“well i just was wondering-“

“fuck out my face im dating someone”

“just-“

“hell nah”

in addition to that, killua is very much the jealous type. if you haven’t watched the phantom rouge movie go watch it rn and tell me killua isn’t jealous. anyone else who makes you smile or laugh or makes the mistake of touching you, killua instantly hates. he always makes sure to be there whenever you’re around that person. situations like that are an exception to his PDA rule- he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder or waist if he’s feeling really protective, or hold your hand. he doesn’t get jealous about gon, though- all three of you are friends and he knows for sure gon wouldn’t try anything on you in a million years.

killua may or may not go a little overboard with his jealousy at times, though. he might mistake a simple interaction for someone trying to get with you

“yo, y/n- why was that guy talking to you?”

“*long sigh* killua. how else was he going to take my order?”

killua is on the protective side and doesn’t really like for you to be out without him or gon. if you aren’t back within a certain timeframe he’ll start spamming your phone with texts and calls to make sure you’re okay.

from: killua @ 10:56 pm

“yo”

“y/n”

“yo”

“you good”

“heLLOOOO”

“you’re supposed to answer me im your boyfriend”

“why do you hate me”

“are u alive”

“come back”

“pls”

“where u at”

“it’s almost 11”

“if ur dead im going to kill u”

“ANSWER BRO”

from: y/n @ 10:57

“HOW DID YOU SEND SIXTEEN FUCKING MESSAGES IN THE SPAN OF ONE MINUTE”

from: killua @ 10:57

“:3”

#cat3ch1sm #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #killua x reader #reader x killua #killua zoldyck x reader #killua zoldyck x you #you x killua #anime #hxh imagines #hxh fic #killua hxh #killua headcanons #killua x you #reader x killua zoldyck

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bokettochild · 3 months

Text

Through The Keyhole, See Another Life

Inspired by the giant flannel I've been wearing for the last week and how happy it makes me. This popped into my head at work because of it so.... here you go!

Fandom: Linked Universe

Characters: Time, Legend Four

Words: 1,954

Rating: Gen

Summary: The Chain are visiting the ranch, and while most of the other boys are finishing their chores, Time stumbles across Four introducing Legend to one of his guilty pleasures.

"Four, no."

Time glances up at the very firm voice echoing down the stairs. He’s not sure if the boys even know he’s come back to the main house yet, not with the guest room being on the backside of the house and unable to see the door and all. Usually, someone would have noticed the sound of the door opening, but all the other boys are outside with Malon, helping with the chores while their smithy and veteran rested inside.

The battle in his world had been a hard one, and as much as fairies and potions can do, they seemingly can’t prevent Legend’s chronic pain or Four’s migraines, both of which had been worsening for days even before arriving at the ranch. Malon, naturally, had insisted that both boys be allowed to sleep in today, and given they’d still been curled up tight in bed, tense and stressed even while asleep, he’d been inclined to agree.

It appears they’re awake now though, no doubt having found the breakfast laid just inside the door of their room for them, since no one had known if either would be willing to risk the stairs to find something while the rest of them were outside working. Still, he’d probably better check. He's been a bit worried about the two, and now that Malon has ordered him inside (he honestly wasn’t kicked that hard! The cows are just big!) he has plenty of time on his hands while the rest of his boys finish their assigned chores under his wife’s guidance.

“Why on earth not?” The smithy’s voice is a bit higher as it trails down the stairs to where he’s shucking off his boots and stretching out his back, feeling every one of his years, even the ones that technically didn’t happen.

Legend’s sigh is audible even through the floorboards, a soft groan probably accompanying a motion. “Because I don’t want to get in trouble?”

There’s a part of time that wants to snort at the words; the two heroes sound like children arguing about pulling a prank on their parents, but then the fact that he and Malon would be said parents in that situation hits him and it’s not as funny. Additionally, these are teen heroes, the idea that Legend is wary about it means whatever Four wants to do is either very dumb, very silly, or very dangerous, and he’s not sure which is the worse scenario.

He moves for the stairs, ears tuned closely to the door above, but feet quiet so they won’t hear him coming.

“I do this all the time, it’s nice! Come on, you’d love it if you let yourself.”

Okay then, less a worry, he pauses, listening. They’d probably resent that, but he’s curious now, and still a bit wary. He has to remind himself that Legend and Four are, in fact, two of the more level headed heroes- most of the time. At any rate, they’re usually pretty responsible, so even if he’s more used to Wild and Wind and (Hylia help him) Warriors, he really shouldn’t doubt them so much.

“Yes,” the bed upstairs creaks, “but you’re you. I’m me. There’s a big difference in how they’d react to you doing this- heck, Twilight would probably think it’s cute from you, and Sky definitely would-” definitely not dangerous then, or risky, or likely to cause damage of any sort “-but it’d be a whole different story with me.”

“You’re just scared to try.” Four taunts, headache clearly gone.

The bed creaks, like someone’s flopped on it. “Four, I am in too much pain to sit through Twilight chewing me out for being an ‘asshole’ again.” There’s a tick in the vet’s voice, a small hitch on the offending title. Come to think of it, his pup does tend to call the vet that pretty frequently.

Four doesn’t pause though, continuing his insistence on...whatever he’s insisting. “Then don’t touch Twilight’s things, he can’t be mad on someone else’s behalf.”

“He is.” Legend clips back. “frequently.”

Does his pup really chew the vet out that much?

“Blame me,” the smithy suggests, off-handed.”

The bed creaks again, a longer one, most likely as it’s resident shifts to face the smithy. He can imagine the deadpan tired stare and heavy sigh that likely touches their young vet’s face. “That’s the definition of an asshole move.”

“Then let me say it was my fault.”

“Again, you’re different. They‘d excuse it from you, but as a person with my own free will, they will blame me for-”

“Oh stop being a stick-in-the-mud!” Four huffs, petulant almost. He must be in one of his more childish moods, no doubt Red’s fault. It happens from time to time when they’re in a safe place and the smithy isn’t constantly around the other heroes. He didn’t think Legend would be allowed to see it, but maybe he’s wrong about that, because the smithy’s voice definitely has picked up the mannerisms of his more emotional aspect. “Just take this and put it on!”

Are they....is Four trying to get Legend to play dress up of some kind?

“Is that Time’s?” It’s hesitant, guarded, wary.

“He won’t mind, or notice either, I expect. He never does.”

Is Four getting into his things without his knowing? Since when? Time’s feet start back up the stairs again, only to pause once more at the vet’s hesitant voice.

“You sure he won’t crucify me or something?”

Malon’s going to kill him. That’s the impression he’s giving these younger heroes?

“Just do it,” Four huffs, “stop being a baby.”

And of course, insulting Legend is no way to get him to make the smart decision, whatever it is they're on about. He sets up the stairs again, creeping to the door of the guest room once he's reached the second floor and peeking around the door frame. The door’s still shut, but it’s little trouble to turn the handle ever so slowly and push it open enough to see what’s going on inside.

He’s not expecting what he sees.

Four is standing in the middle of the room, Sky’s embroidered undershirt hanging off of him like a rather short dress as he stares at the vet who’s still sitting on the bed where Time had left both of them early this morning. The vet, in turn, has similarly shed his own sweaty clothes, which he can see tossed over a nearby chair, and the pink-haired teen is currently drowning in what he recognizes to be one of his own tunics. The collar isn’t laced yet, but the vet is currently yanking at it to stop it trying to slip off a shoulder, struggling though because the sleeves of the outfit seem to have utterly swallowed his hands.

Four giggles. Red is definitely fronting, although the smile he sees on the smith’s face is more like Green’s. “Let me help.”

“It’s just the sleeves,” the other boy huffs, “I got it.” He doesn’t.

Time finds himself stifling a chuckle as he watches the vet fumble and fuss, switching between trying to free his hands and trying to tighten the collar. Any worries that the two were up to anything nefarious have long since vanished, although his will to see what they’re doing hasn’t.

They look like actual kids like this, Four decked out in stollen finery and Legend drowning in Time’s own clothes, much too big for him, to the point that with the next attempt to free his hands, long sleeves flap freely and loose in an effort of some sort (he can only presume) to make them fall down naturally. That effort though is quickly forgotten, the vet’s face loosening, softening somewhat, eyes wide as he pauses and then tentatively flaps the sleeves again. Four giggles, and Legend’s chuffing laughter follows it as he grins as his trapped hands and the excess fabric that shakes and snaps with his quick movements.

“Welcome,” the smithy sounds, “to the wonders of over-sized clothes. You’re welcome.”

“I hate you,” Legend sighs, but there's not a bit of actual malice in the words as he flops back against the pillows on the bed, seemingly having given up on trying to fit into Time’s clothes and instead accepting his fate. The boy’s face screws up a moment later in confusion though, and he lifts a hand to his face again with a frown, sniffing slightly at the shirt sleeve.

Time desperately, desperately hopes that Four didn’t steal that from his travel bag or dirty laundry. Except, he must not have, because Legend’s face softens again, this time into a smile, and he curls up a bit, burying his face in the fabric with a little hum that is strangely out of place for the harsh veteran they all have come to know. More so though, is the way Legend rubs his face across the fabric, ears flapping. It’s strangely adorable.

“Nice?” Four is definitely gloating.

Legend’s face rises for a moment out of the sleeves, a whole different person than Time knows, bitter-sweet smile and flushed cheeks. “’t smells like home.”

Something in his chest clenches violently.

There’s no such reaction from the smith though, who just looks pleasantly surprised, but nods it off with a smile, moving a bit closer and settling on the bedside, careful not to stir it and earning a brief look of thanks from the vet who is, now that he looks, still a bit pale and carrying tension around his shoulders and eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah” violet eyes fall down to stare at long sleeves, hand flapping slightly inside again, but not enough to do more than make the fabric shift and shuffle a bit. “Time must use the same aftershave as-” a pause, a twitch of the face into a frown. “It’s a familiar scent.”

It’s also a new one. Malon had got it for him for their wedding anniversary last year. He forgets what she called it, but she loves it, so he does too. On the road, it hardly matters what he smells like, but it makes him think of her and, like the captain says, it’s good to do small things for yourself even when traveling and fighting and struggling. Life’s not much worth living if it’s all harsh and you deny yourself even the small joys accessible to you. For him, that joy is remembering how his wife beams and showers him with kisses once he’s fresh faced again, but in the room before him, it can also mean stealing your team-mates' too big clothes and curling up in them when you aren’t feeling your best.

The smile that pulls across his face as Legend rolls over to face Four better, curled up tightly in himself as the smithy laughs about something, both looking peaceful, is also one of those things.

For a moment, a precious, fleeting moment, he can almost forget the two boys in the bedroom across from his own are heroes who have to save the world. Instead, he can almost imagine them waking up there and joining farm chores every day. No pain brought on by whatever these two have faced would exist in such a world and instead they’d be free to run wild around the barnyard, racing to finish chores or pulling pranks and making mischief like boys their age should be doing.

It’s a nice picture, and not even properly bitter-sweet, even though he knows it can’t be, because they're still there in front of him, peaceful and content and chattering quietly, one of his boys curled up in his shirt and the other in Sky’s, both discussing scents and colognes and what smells signal home.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto writes #lu legend #lu four #lu time #dad time #soft legend #four has multiple personalities/the colors #fluffic

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ughdontbeboring · 2 months

Text

only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach.

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago.

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard.

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight.

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?”

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock.

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room.

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember.

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him.

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs.

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan.

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock.

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand.

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy.

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his.

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again.

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him.

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully.

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again.

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade”

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly.

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt.

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room.

#thor #thor odinson #ughwrites #Ughthor #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson smut #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson x you #thor x reader #thor smut #thor odison imagine #Chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x you #chris hemsworth x reader

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