#ALMOST FORGOT THAT TAG WHEEZE

[completeandtotalchaos]

Fun trick that makes Rain World 10x harder: accidentally becoming a parent

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

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

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

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

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

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

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

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

If only you knew. 

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

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

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

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…I just-”

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

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

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

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

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

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” he questions.

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

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

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

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

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

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

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

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

R: She’s five, genius

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

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

“What’s inside? I thought-”

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

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it you believe him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guess that God was on your side today. 

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

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

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

Princess: please rafey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

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

“No, I did, I swear-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes pass by.

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

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

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

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

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

౨ৎ

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Just mine alone. // Dark!Aemond Targaryen x CommonerMaid!Reader

MDNI, DD:DNE; reader discretion is heavily advised.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to prevent seeing dark content from me.

based on merged requests, this and this. // divider creds: @cafekitsune

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, coercion, power imbalance, unprotected p in v sex, breeding kink (if you squint), tiddy play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, power abuse, status difference, medieval era bullshit, infidelity (kind of, reader is betrothed), jealous aemond, dark!aemond, oral f. receiving. + notproofread.

WC: 1.7k

You walked inside Prince Aemond's chambers with freshly washed linen sheets, ready to change the coverings as it was your duty as a maid, the prince would usually be out of his room at this time giving you no trouble to finish up your work.

But today, he wasn't.

You were surprised to see him, “My prince?” you question and he turns to face you, eye wide and lips pressed tightly together, almost as if in anger.

“You're getting married?” He questions and you stiffen up, before swallowing thickly, you shift your weight onto your other leg and clutch the sheets tightly to your chest, “My prince i–”

“Drop the act Y/N, there is no one around.” He tells you sternly and you take a deep breath and look behind you, finding the door closed before you once again face him. “Aemond.” You call out his name and his lips twitch.

“Yes? Answer my question.” He demands and you sigh heavily, before nodding, “I am.” you tell him and he scoffs.

“So I don't mean anything to you after all?” He questions, his voice laced with a condescending tone which makes you fidget nervously, “Did all those years mean nothing to you at all? I thought you loved me.” He grits his teeth and that takes you back into the past when you first met him.

He bumped into you when you were both kids, while trying to run from his brother at the street of silk and ended up taking refuge in your house, that's how your friendship first bloomed, securing a friendship with a prince came with many benefits but you did not like to rely on others, so you found work at the red keep as a maid, and thus deepening your friendship furthermore.

As years progressed, you fell in love with him, yet you knew your place and quickly awoke to the harsh reality of both your status difference. You were nothing but a mere commoner, yet he is a prince, so pushed those feelings away and moved on. Even going as far as agreeing to a proposal your parents had arranged for you.

That man wasn't as highborn, yet he owned a bakery while your family owned poultry. This marriage is more of a trading business rather than anything but you had actually met the guy and he is extremely nice and polite, which made you immediately say yes to the proposal.

The only thing you forgot about was Aemond.

It shouldn't matter to him as much right? Then why is he acting as though he was betrayed in a way?

“Answer me!” His voice snaps you out of your memories and you visibly flinch, “What do you mean by the love we shared, Aemond? There was nothing between us.” You furrow your brows in confusion, did Aemond even like you back? “And what made you come to that conclusion?” He strides towards you angrily and you take a few steps back, dropping the sheets on the floor.

He traps you in between himself and the wall before grabbing your face harshly, squeezing your cheeks tightly, “Speak now.” He spits harshly and you begin to tremble, scared at his angry personality. “I- We cannot be together, Aemond. There is a difference in status between you and me.” You tell him and his grip on your cheeks become tighter, “Why does it matter? Why could not have confessed? I love you.” He confesses, which makes you freeze in shock, “Tis’ already too late.” you wheeze out as he finally let goes of your cheeks and stares at you, his eye scans your form up and down before a smirk forms on his face. “Not if I ruin you, if you're already defiled then nobody would want you, you'd be mine forever.” He tells you his horrendous plan which makes you feel terrified. “Aemond, no.” you tell him straight forward but he doesn't listen and presses his lips against yours, and bites your bottom lip, pulling on it harshly, “You're mine, only mine.” He mutters before he notices that specs of blood are beginning to leak from your lips from where he bit it, he licks them up before kissing you once again, hands roaming upwards your body as he gropes you, before squeezing your breast, making you gasp. He uses this as a chance to push his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss.

He grabs you off the wall by your arms and takes you to his bed, gently pushing you onto the mattress, you try to get away but he pushes you back and traps you between his arms, and begins to kiss down your neck, “Fuck, you are mine, always been mine, I can't let anyone have you.” He growls as he undoes the lace of your bodice, pulling it off you. You place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away gently but he grabs your hands and pins them to your sides. “I know you crave it too.” He coos and you swallow thickly, you hate that he is right but you know that no man would want you after this, especially your betrothed, so you try to reject Aemond’s advances yet he doesn't budge.

“Shhh, just let it happen.” He whispers gently, as he let goes of your hands and grabs your skirt, hiking it up, revealing your legs which makes you shiver as feel the cold air bite your thigh, he travels down and let goes of your skirts while grabbing both your thighs, arms wrapping around them and pulling them apart, his warm breath hits your core making you clench around nothing, “You're so divine.” is all he says before he is lapping at your cunt like a wild animal. Your mind becomes hazy as you try to register the pleasure he's giving you, you squeal when you feel him bite your bud, before he continues lapping at it. His tongue prods at your entrance and soon he is tongue fucking you, his nose pressing so perfectly onto your clit, you wondered if he is even able to breath.

You try to protest still, but you are cut off by your own orgasm hitting you, your arch your back while pressing his face further into your cunt at the feeling, he laps at your bud slowly, bringing you off your high gently. He pulls away and trails upwards, weight supporting his hands and you stare at him, taking in how messy he looks, his lips glossy from your essence and his hair messed up.

You hated to admit it but seeing a prince this messy knowing the reason is you makes a spark of arousal to form inside of you.

Before you can process what was happening, Aemond was now kneeling on the mattress as he placed both of your legs on his shoulders before properly positioning himself, his pushed his tip inside slowly, his thickness was practically making you feel as if you are being split open. This caused tears to well up in your eyes and you sniffed, Aemond chuckled meanly, your reaction likely boosted his ego, “Look at you crying, all because of my cock yeah? You look so fucking beautiful.” He grunts, he is now fully inside and unable to hold it back anymore, he begins to thrust at a face pace, giving you no time to adjust and you cry out, “Shhh, sorry I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry.” He mutters over and over again, yet not slowing down, it took a while for the pain to convert into pleasure, and all the while he kept apologising while you whined in pain. He pulls down the bodice to reveal your breasts before he massages them, playing with your nipple and twirling it in between his thumb and index finger, he leans forward, causing your knees to press against your chest, in order to kiss you.

He pulls back stares at your stomach, noticing a slight bulge whenever he thrusts inside of you, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix, causing you to twitch in slight pain.

“Aem ‘s too big— pull back please.” You whine and he actually listens to you and pulls back slightly, the positioning of his tip was now perfectly aligned with your sweet spot, as he repeatedly hit it making you whine and whimper. You knew from the noises he was making that he was near too.

You both peak at the same time, the pleasure washes over you like a tide while he fills you up to the brim, “Fuck fuck fuck, you're squeezing me so tight, your cunt is so desperate for every drop of my seed huh?” He groans.

He stays like that for a while before pulling out, watching as his seed leaks out of you, you lay there frozen as the aftermath of the high occurs and you realise the weight of the situation, aemond just took your maidenhead, in other words, you are soiled.

You think of your betrothed and how you had betrayed him, sobs almost broke out of you but Aemond suddenly flipped you around, making you lay on your stomach and grabbed your waist to pull your power body upwards. “What are you doing–” You are cut off when he spanks you, shrieking at the pain, “You are thinking of that bastard aren't you? Your fucking betrothed.” He questions and your eyes widen, how did he know? “I could tell from your face, seems I need to fuck you dumb enough to forget his name and face.” He replies as though he had heard your thoughts.

You balance yourself on your hands, and turn your head to watch as he lines his cock against your entrance once again before pushing it inside, causing you to arch your back at the stretch. He begins to move again, roughly thrust in and out while his hands gripped your waist, his thighs smacked against yours and the room was starting to reek of sex.

Aemond had lived up to his word, because by the end of it, you had nothing except him on your mind.

You knew there would be repercussions of your actions, but as Aemond ripped peak after peak out of you, you began to care less about them, and let Aemond take you however he wanted.

After all, you belonged to him.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[sqquidzz]

"As Long as I'm Here, No One Can Hurt You."

Sanemi x Child!Reader (PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP)

Summary: Sanemi had found you while he was on a mission chasing a demon, covered in the blood of your own family and crying in your house all alone. He decided to "adopt" you and give you a new home.

Tags: Fluff, slight gore in backstory, Sanemi is a good parent, trauma, PTSD, slight mentions of past abuse, soft Sanemi, protective Sanemi, Y/N reminds Sanemi of Genya, loss of parents, adopting, some sadness, swearing, insults (but Sanemi doesn't really mean it) etc.

A/N: Hello readers! I'm so sorry to those following me that I haven't posted as often as I probably should, I just got writers block and lost all my motivation and I forgot to post something for you guys. I hope this will make up for it. I have not written fluff yet, so I'm hoping you guys will have some improvements for me if there are any. And also, thank you to those who are following me, I really appreciate it! About the story now, PLEASE do NOT read this as a sexual relationship, this is only a PLATONIC relationship. But anyways, enjoy!

"Get back here, you brat!"

Sanemi was currently chasing you around the house. After a long year of going on missions, Sanemi finally had a break day. Of course, meaning that he could spend that day taking care of you. And coming back to the scene before us, Sanemi swerves around tables and chairs, trying to get you to get back into your room. Oh, I almost forgot to mention, you were also wearing no clothes.

"Nanana Boo Boo!" you giggle as he dives to catch you, but you jump out of the way, blowing a raspberry at his face, snickering as you run away once again and hide, leaving Sanemi wheezing on the floor from chasing you around.

"You better get back into your room you piece of shit, or else I'll kill you!" Sanemi barks as he rises from the floor, getting up and dusting his pants before searching for you.

"Oi, you better not be fooling around my room you little fuck!" Sanemi yells as he searches your room and comes out empty handed.

However, as he approaches his room, he hears quiet sobs through the closed door. Now Sanemi is getting a little concerned.

"Y/N...?" he calls out gently as he opens the door, the door creaking slightly. He ends up finding you on the opposite side of his bed, curled up into a ball, face in your knees as you cry silently, sobs racking your small frame.

"Hey buddy... what's wrong?" Sanemi asks quietly as he reaches out to you with his hand. But immediately after his hand makes contact with your back, you flinch away, head shooting out of your knees as you look wildly around you as if your afraid the world is hunting you.

"Whoa, I'm not gonna hurt you, see?" Sanemi whispers and holds his hands out.

You slightly calm down at the gesture, but your expression is still wary, still feeling like Sanemi was tricking you.

"You wanna tell me why your crying?" Sanemi asks gently as he attempts to hold your hand again. This time, you don't flinch back, sniffling quietly as you stop crying.

"I- I got scared," you whisper out, "I knew you wouldn't hurt me.... but I couldn't help thinking about what they did to me."

Now Sanemi was confused. Who were you talking about? Who did what to you?

"What do you mean, pumpkin?" Sanemi asks. He always used pet names with you, sometimes they would be insulting, but most of the times, he would call you buddy, pumpkin, things like that that made you feel like he really cared.

"M-my parents used to do things to me," you sniffle, "They always said that it was for the best and I believed them for a while. But what they did hurt so much." You burry your face into your knees again, shoulders shaking from newly sprung tears.

Now Sanemi understood.

He had found you as a baby after your parents had been slaughtered in your house. He decided to take you in himself since he didn't want you to end up being an orphan forever or getting adopted by a bad family (bless his kind heart 😭)

However, he had never thought to ask about your past. He just assumed that you had grown up with a normal family that loved and cared for you. Oh how he was wrong.

"Y-your parents...?" Sanemi whispers as you continue to sob out of fear and grief that your parents had in fact abused you and had neglected your well-being entirely.

By now Sanemi was shaking with fury, but not at you. He was shocked. How could someone hurt someone so kind and joyful? How could they rob you of your happiness?

Sanemi took a deep breath. Now is not the time to get violent.

Instead of asking any further about your past, Sanemi simply wraps his arms around you in firm but loving embrace and you bury your head into his shoulder, letting out all of the tears that you held in for so long.

"It's okay Y/N. You safe with me. As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you," he coos, rubbing your back to sooth you and calm you.

After a few minutes, you calm down, finally running out of tears to shed and you fall asleep in Sanemi's warm embrace.

He smiles down at you, and as he gazes at you, a memory pops into his head

---

"Nemi! Nemi!"

"W-what is it?" Sanemi asks, rubbing his eyes, clearing his vision to reveal Genya.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Genya asks nervously, "I had a nightmare and I'm really scared."

Sanemi blinks for a moment, then smiles softly and throws his blanket to the side.

"C'mere," Sanemi sighs, and Genya immediately jumps into his embrace, burying his face into his chest. "Don't worry Genya, as long as I'm hear, no one can hurt you.' (sound familiar?)

---

A tear runs down Sanemi's cheek.

He hadn't realized until now how much you reminded him of Genya when he was younger. Cheerful, determined, kind. And especially the fact that you love to sleep. (pointer to those manga readers out there)

Sanemi picks you up in his arms, tucking you into bed and watches as you snuggle the blankets closer, savoring their warmth.

He slowly climbs into bed next to you as to not wake you up, and holding you close, he too, falls fast asleep.

[sixhours]

One Day at a Time - Chapter 1 - Conception

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

It was probably the alcohol.

No, it was definitely the alcohol. That shit was lethal and he should have known better.

Charlie wasn’t even supposed to be on the patrol roster that day. Joel was usually paired with Tommy; the brothers had a good rhythm and years of partnership that made their runs almost effortless. But Tommy’s kid was sick, and Charlie had shown up for his shift.

Joel didn’t mind. She was serious, a good shot, and she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. Even Tommy could get chatty when the mood struck, and Joel was infamously allergic to small talk. It was one overnight run–ride north, spend the night in Beaver Creek, keep an eye out for hordes, and salvage and scavenge what they could–and then they’d come home.

If only she hadn’t cut her damn leg.

“Hold still,” Joel grunted as Charlie’s calf twitched under his hand. The gash was deep enough to require stitches, but he wasn’t going to try that, not with his arthritic fingers, not in this damp spring chill. He poured a splash of alcohol over the wound and winced at her hissed out-breath.

“Motherfucker,” she growled, and Joel’s cock gave an involuntary twitch at the timbre of her voice, a hazy borderland between pleasure and pain.

Yeah, he’d noticed her. The way her ass looked in those jeans, the way her thighs gripped the saddle and held firm, the way her competent hands wielded a rifle. Her hair was a shock of silver-white that complemented strange light gray eyes and full pink lips.

He’d noticed all of it. He was old as dirt, but he wasn’t dead .

When a clean rag was wrapped and tied around the wound, he sat back, examining his work.

“How the hell’d you manage that?”

She gestured to the corner of the outpost where refuse had piled up. “Was looking for the log. There’s a broken window, didn’t see it.”

“Log’s on the other side,” he grouched.

“Yeah, I figured that out,” she muttered, wincing as she shifted her leg.

“S’it hurt?”

She shot him a look. Of course, it fucking hurts.

So he handed her the flask from which he’d poured the makeshift antibiotic.

“This’ll help.”

Charlie took the first swallow greedily, eyes watering, wheezing and coughing when the stuff hit the back of her throat. “Holy shit, what is this?”

He smirked, taking back the flask and helping himself, letting out an involuntary cough at the burn. “They don’t fuck around at the distillery.”

“You don’t say,” she said, gesturing to him with a flick of her fingers. Give it back. He obliged.

He forgot he hadn’t had a stiff drink in too many months. He forgot the stuff was so potent . He forgot the cold made it easier to get shit-faced.

The drink helped ease the tension and pass the time as they passed the flask back and forth. It loosened his tongue and made him soft, malleable, fuzzy around the edges.

He remembers her leaning into him, seeking warmth. He remembers putting an arm around her and thinking she smelled really good, then her face was really close to his and…then the flask was empty and Charlie was straddling his lap and her hot little tongue was licking his mouth and he had no concept of how she’d gotten there.

Worst of all, he didn’t really care.

The next time he came to, she was pinned underneath him, three of his thick fingers pressing into the hot slick of her mouth. He watched, mesmerized, as she sucked them in deeper, swirled her tongue between the sensitive V of his middle and index fingers…then fucking smiled around them.

The noise he made was something between a croak and a moan, cock buried in her to the hilt, hips rocking against hers involuntarily as she clenched, clenched, clenched . At some point, she’d taken off her jacket and he’d pushed up her shirt, pulled the cup of her bra down over one perfect full breast, and he had just enough wherewithal for his lips to find her nipple, sucking it hard between his teeth. He fumbled then, wanting the other breast, but his other hand was still in her fucking mouth, pressing against the soft warm pad of her tongue, and he couldn’t hold himself up. He growled in frustration, used his teeth against the lace cup of her bra, pulled hard, and freed his target.

Then he promptly forgot what he was trying to do.

The little sounds she made, cooed and purred directly into his good ear, were going to drive him fucking insane. It shouldn’t have been possible to get this hard , not at his age, and certainly not while on the verge of blackout drunk. He felt like he’d taken one of those little blue pills he used to trade. And she was so wet, so soft. She was burning around him and he wanted to die in her fire.

Then his groin pulled tight, a molten heat pooling low in his belly, and he couldn’t make himself stop thrusting, couldn’t make himself wait.

“You–you gonna–” he fumbled, trying to get the words to cooperate but his tongue was a useless piece of meat in his mouth and he was too fucking gone.

Charlie’s strong body arched under him, cutting him off, and all he could feel was her sweet, slick fluttering pulling him deeper as she came with a wail. A dim part of his mind thanked a god he didn’t believe in and followed suit, spilling into her with a final sloppy thrust that wrenched a harsh cry from his lips and his mind from his body.

He vaguely remembers her pushing him off, panting and muttering about not being able to breathe, and then it all went black.

He wakes with a groan that tastes like bile. 

Oh, his aching head, his godforsaken head . He’s having a stroke. That’s gotta be it. Only explanation.

He rolls to his side in agony and dares a tiny peek through swollen, dry eyes. The light is a white-hot blade to his frontal lobe.

Nope, that’s not gonna work.

He hears retching outside. His hand touches something cold and metallic—the flask. 

The empty flask.

Jesus. He risks another glance at the too-bright world and it hurts a tiny fraction less. Maybe not a stroke after all. His cock is still hanging out of his boxers, flaccid and freezing, and he has just enough capacity to tuck himself back in and sit up before Charlie comes limping into the cabin.

The sight of her calls up a hazy memory of heat and searing pleasure along with a wave of nausea. It must come back to her, too, because she’s looking at him warily.

“Did we…?” she says.

“We did,” Joel mutters, forcing himself to stay absolutely still. The slightest movement leaves him feeling like a rowboat tossed on the open sea.

“Thought so. Shit.”

After a few excruciating moments, Joel’s stomach settles and he attempts to get to his feet. His back has other plans, and when she offers him an arm for leverage, he takes it reluctantly, pulling away at the first possible opportunity when he’s sure he’s not going to keel over.

“Look–”

“Listen–”

Fuck.  

“You go,” he says, closing his eyes. Oops, that was a mistake. The world spins behind his eyelids. He drags them open, stumbling toward the door, searching for something to hold onto.

“I think…we’re two people, who had a consensual–consensual-ish—”

Joel’s gut rolls, pitches, yaws. He flings open the door just in time, depositing the meager contents of his stomach into the mud.

Leaning on the door frame, her hand on his arm brings him back.

“This doesn’t need to be weird,” Charlie says. “Can we chalk it up to a couple of bad decisions and move on?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, swallowing another heave. “S’fine.”

He’s barely conscious for the trip back to Jackson. The glare of the early spring sun and the lope of the horse beneath him is nauseating. Charlie doesn’t seem to fare much better, but true to her nature, she doesn’t complain.

They ride through the gates and part ways with barely a nod and a wave between them. No one asks why their run proves fruitless, chalking it up to Charlie’s injury. She limps off to the clinic to get stitched up, and Joel staggers home, collapsing in bed to sleep off the worst hangover of his life.

[the-kr8tor]

Hii, i have gone through all your ffs love them ❤️❤️, i got this video on my fyp and it just made me think of hobie. https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJnnLQDt/ It could be a us babysitting kinda thing

Hello, angel! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-punk x fem! Reader

Synopsis: you and Hobie play pretend with Mayday's toys.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, FLUFF.

It's Fluffy Friday!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Finally putting Mayday down for an afternoon nap, you stretch your tired arms from carrying the toddler a bit too long. Walking towards the living room you hear Hobie cleaning up Mayday's toys.

"What is Peter feeding that kid? I swear she keeps growing every time we babysit" you stop in your tracks when you see Hobie casually scooping up fake ice cream into a plastic cone. He sits criss crossed on the carpeted floor, in front of him is the plastic ice cream stall.

The toy is from Peter's dimension, Hobie's curious at how the fake ice cream sticks to the plastic scoop with ease, And how it stays on top of the plastic cone without it falling. He whispers a question to no one, 'magnets?' The toys look tiny in his hand.

You giggle, "can I order uh, chocolate with sprinkles"

Hobie immediately plays with the bit, "we don't have sprinkles, just plain chocolate on a cone" he plays the part of a disgruntled employee, Hobie says his line flatly.

You stifle laugh, "fine, three scoops of plain chocolate, please" you sit in front of the toy ice cream stall, Hobie holds the plastic scooper in his hand.

"No three scoops, just one or two" He points at the stall, various 'flavours' of ice cream are displayed in pairs.

"What kind of ice cream shop only offers one to two scoops?"

"There's a dairy crisis" he says the sentence so matter-of-factly, you can't help but guffaw at his straight face.

"A dairy crisis?!" You play along, Hobie cracks a small smile.

"Yeah, and our CEO's lactose intolerant, he doesn't let anyone have their fun. Also he's a wanker for being a capitalist pig" he spits out the last word with so much malice.

You laugh loudly, covering your mouth with your hand so that Mayday wouldn't wake up from the noise. "Two scoops then, in a cup please" you say in between laughs, there's tears in your eyes from all the laughing.

"We don't have bloody cups!" Hobie gestures towards the toddler sized stall, "do you see any cups here?!" Hobie plays his part well. If not for the small smile he has, you would've thought he was actually mad.

You wipe the tiny tears welling in your eyes, "okay" wheeze "okay" giggle "um two chocolate in a cone, please" you manage to let out.

Hobie scoops the ice cream angrily, plastic thumping against plastic. "Here" he hands the toy sundae in your hands.

"Thank you," your laugh finally subsides, clearing your throat. You act, patting your imaginary pockets for your wallet. "Ah, I think I forgot my wallet at home" you smirk at him, "do you take kisses instead?"

Hobie finally cracks, laughing deeply. "Little shit, come 'ere" He lifts his arms up towards you. You scooch, closing in the small distance between you.

Hobie cradles your cheek, thumb grazing your lips before he leans in. You feel his lopsided smile through the kiss, you sigh, looping your arm around the back of his head, the fake sundae in your hand almost stabs him on the cheek.

You pull away breathlessly, "whoops" pecking the side of his face as an apology. "I'm gonna have to report you to management for the bad service" you joke, peppering kisses all over his jaw.

"Snitch" he whispers with a lovestruck grin.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

[twstbookclub]

Indefinitely His

Summary: You finally have the opportunity to go back home, but Floyd... has a little twist for you. POV: 2nd POV Pronouns: Gen Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Floyd Leech, horror, twstober 2024, possession, chase sequence, lord please help us all if this happens in the game. Word Count: 928

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS PAGE HAS BEEN DEAD BUT THE ADMINS ARE ALL COLLEGE STUDENTS, WORKING, AND I, KAI, AM WORKING ON A VISUAL NOVEL GAME ON THE SIDE LORD SAVE ME but enjoy Floyd horror :D

“This is so unfair~”

That menacing voice rang through every direction of the school grounds, and it didn’t help that the earlier rampage knocked the lights out.

This wasn’t an overblot. It was his normal behavior skyrocketing.

You covered your mouth as you tried to keep quiet. Every student who was there to say bye to you was knocked unconscious with a single move. The school was dark and that was your only advantage. 

“Aww, Shrimpy… It’s no fun if you hide!” He yelled as he knocked over some items, hoping to find you there. He laughed with a small wheeze as he looked around again, but you took the opportunity to run out of the room.

Floyd was pissed at the thought of you leaving, annoyed at the thought of his shrimpy leaving his side, and irritated that you were hiding from him now. “Don’t be scared, Little Shrimpy. I ain’t gonna squeeze ya too bad.”

You weren’t that fast for him though. Almost instantly, Floyd had a tight grip on your arm with a child-like laugh coming out of his maniacal behavior. You let out a yelp before trying to run off again, but Floyd won’t let you leave. 

“Hey, what’s wrooong~? Does it hurt, Shrimpy? That’s too bad…”

His voice was playful with tones of ill-intent underneath, but he gave you a giggle. “Poor thiiing.”

“Floyd—” You started while pulling away, but he was like a tower compared to you, so much bigger and stronger. Your movements meant nothing, and you couldn’t even use magic to get away unlike some of the other students.

“C’monnnn, put up more of a fiiight… it’s no fun if you aren’t squirming around~” Floyd said as if this was a game, but the look in his eye showed that he was serious. “I’ll give you a headstart.”

The moment he let go of you, it felt like you were some animal on the verge of getting preyed on, and your life was on the line. You began to run until you could no longer sense his presence. 

But not even you could escape that.

Your body brought you back into the mirror chamber, and you stopped as the room was only lit up by its natural green and purple hues from the gems and crystals that decorated the room.

It didn’t matter where you looked. There was blood and bodies everywhere.

First years were scattered around the floor, and it didn’t matter what they did, their blood was spilled.  Second years had bruises and obvious head injuries as most of them had been thrown onto the walls or floors.

Your memory flashed the images of Floyd almost getting tackled by the third-year students, but nothing worked. Floyd had squeezed them unconscious.  What surprised you the most was seeing Malleus in a slight panic before succumbing to the anger the merman had fallen into. 

You had to get to the mirror. It grew a bright green as the portal to your world finally opened, but your feet couldn’t move from fear. What if he got there before you did? You just wanted to go home now.

You forced your legs to move as you got closer to the center of the room, pulling in all of your might to try and leave now before you could get hurt.

Floyd usually bothered you, but you never thought he’d go this far. To hurt everyone in his path. Your eyes slowly moved to the body nearest to you.

Jade.

He had done his best to ensure you were protected when Floyd began his rampage, but his brother forgot about that bond in that anger. Jade was the last one to drop, and that’s when the true nightmare began.

You snapped out of it as footsteps came your way and you reached the steps towards the mirror, but there was nowhere to hide this time. Before you could think of a plan, Floyd was already in front of you with a smile that showed every one of his sharp teeth, reminding you of the spot you were in.

You were below him right now. You were like a little toy to him right now. A toy he didn’t want to share or return to its rightful owners. He was going to keep you right here, even if it meant breaking your limbs so you couldn’t crawl away.

“Shrimpy~” He called out softly, getting closer and closer to you. Floyd grabbed your wrist, but the grip felt like the strength of a thousand men. You could feel your wrist dislocating and your nerves tingled like little punctures from the cut-off blood flow.

“You’re trembling so much. Don’t be scaaared~” 

“If you’re scared, you can call for help, y’know? But no one will come.” He whispered the last part of his sentence before he smashed the mirror with a hard fist. He said you could scream, but not a sound came out in your mental to physical attempt. 

His expression became serious as glass flew. From shards to tiny pieces landed in the air and pierced Floyd’s hand, causing his flesh to bleed out. A small shard cut your cheek, and the sight made his eyes seem like knives. You were stuck.

Your mind blanked with your sanity and Floyd liked seeing you frozen in terror, so small in his power. He moved closer to tower over you, his voice playful and bone-chilling at your already still frame.

 “Who told you that I would let you go, Shrimpy?”

“I will never let you leave.”

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Three

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie) 

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing.

summary: Ellie is lost in the world. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. my messages and asks are always open.

tags: @spicywhenspeaking Tags are opens for those interested.

Sleeping in the empty room of the agency offices was weird, mostly because she would have assumed that so many people would come in and out of a place like this, that why would they have such an empty room. Ellie had never been to an agency that had seemed so quiet like this before, and she wasn’t just talking at the damn crack of dawn when she was startled awake. 

It took her a moment to realise why she woke up before she was uncurling her body from the lounge chair in the room that Steven had left her in last night along with some leftover sandwiches for dinner.

She wandered out to the foyer to find another man entirely, and he had a bright grin on his face,

“Oh, hello! You must be Ellie, the new recruit, sorry if I woke you, I’m a bit early but thought you could use something for breakfast before we head out.”

So he was here for her. That got her attention. Rubbing her eyes, she took a better look at him, he was clearly a bundle of energy, already almost bounding on the balls of his feet this early in the morning, a tray of coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other,

“Come, let's eat.”

Shrugging one of his shoulders towards the chaired area for them to sit down.. She glanced back to the room she’d come from, before moving to follow him. It was just a small space. A couple chairs, a small table with a magazine that looked to be half falling apart. He set the tray and bag on the table over the magazine and took a couple of wraps out of the bag for them.

“Breakfast wraps, hope you don’t mind, how’d you sleep by the way? Those chairs can be a bit lumpy from what I remember.”

This guy was all smiles and such a bundle of energy.

“Oh-”

As she adjusted in the chair in the waiting area, this was actually more uncomfortable to her, and he asked her how she slept, Ellie realized then, that, well, she had slept, all night, she hadn’t woken up once, not to cough, not to wheeze, nothing. It had been a dream. Her chest didn’t feel heavy at all, that tea had done wonders. She really needed to ask Nicholas about that remedy of his mother’s. Would he really give her more?

Now though, she reached for her wrap, her stomach grumbling, it had been a long time since she’d gotten regular meals, if she wasn’t careful, her body would get used to it again.

“I ah, I slept fine, um…”

“Shit- I’m Folio.. Well, Nick, but considering you just met Nicholas, everyone just calls me Folio, less confusing.”

Nodding as he quickly took a bite of his own wrap and Ellie smiled, thankful for the explanation, not that she expected to see much more of Nicholas- wasn’t like the agency was the company she’d been hired for, right? However, if he wanted to be called Folio, then who was she to argue with him. 

Biting into her breakfast wrap, fuck, she forgot how good real food could be. Th sandwiches were great and all, but this, however, bacon and eggs, was greasy goodness wrapped in a tortilla and, the way her stomach twisted a little, it had been so long without a full decent mean, she wondered if she wasn’t going to pay painfully for how well she was being fed.

At that thought, she also wondered if this food was going to come at a cost. Her eyes darted to the man who was munching happily on his own food without a care in the world, another voice cutting in, and it was Nicholas, just whom she’d been thinking she wouldn’t see again, coming out of nowhere, from the offices in the building.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t want anything for it.”

It was almost as if he could tell what she was thinking, like it was written all over her face. What was he, a mind reader?

“Not a mind reader, just met more than a few people in your position, it’s alright.”

Sure.. not a mind reader, he just answers the question without being asked, that was really convincing Mr Ruffilo.

The answering amused chuckle didn’t help convince her one little bit when she took another bite of her breakfast burrito as she watched him walk across the foyer towards where they were seated and reach into the paper bag and pulled out another wrap along with lifting one of the coffees from the tray.

When he turned to go, he just just smiled softly to her,

“Good luck settling in Ellie, I’m sure Folio will get you there safe and sound. I’ll see you around.”

With a wink he disappeared back into the hall that led back to his office. That was.. curious.

Reaching for her own coffee, she was pulled from her thoughts about what was up with that man by Folio beside her,

“Maddening isn’t he? Anyway, he’s right, we’re good, technically I used his card to pay for it anyway-”

"I heard that!”

Ellie couldn’t barely manage not to choke on a mouthful of coffee at the frustrated shout that sounded from the offices when she tried not to laugh. Folio, however, did nothing short of roaring with laughter including the brightest grin on his face when he grabbed the tray from the table and what was left of the bag of their breakfast,

“Come on, let's blow this joint before he comes out and breathing fire and brimstone to scalp me.”

Not that he looked remotely worried about it at all despite his words, still, he ushered her out of the building towards the car they were taking on the way. It was fancy, not that she could tell you anything about the make, but definitely nothing she could ever afford in her life.. Then again, when had she been able to afford a car of any kind, ever. It looked all fancy, like when a rich person hires a driver to take them everywhere.

Was she supposed to sit in the back? Glancing between the doors as she shoved the last of her wrap into her mouth, not wanting to get any food anywhere inside a car like this, Folio was reaching for the drivers door though and scoffed before she looked to the back,

“Don’t you dare, Ellie, I need someone to talk to, I’ll go out of my mind sitting up the front alone.”

When she looked to him strangely, he set the coffee and food in side the car and rushed around the car, only as fast as his ball of energy hyped up on caffeine could, opening the other front door for her.

“Come onnnn, I know drivers usually kick peeps to the back, but come on, where’s the fun in that?”

Raising an eyebrow at him as she looked to him curious, he certainly was very hyper.

“How many coffees have you had this morning?”

Snorting, grinning at her cheekily as he answered.

“Just the one.”

Could have fooled her, who was this vibrant this early?

Ellie was convinced, Folio might just be able to talk underwater. They talked about everything on the drive, from music, to movies, to hobbies. His voice was actually soothing, soft spoken, but he had this energy about him, like a puppy that never stopped. Full of raw energy.

After they stopped for lunch at a diner, she couldn’t quite remember for the life of her where, Folio was doing a fantastic job of keeping her distracted of where they were on the road as they drove for hours, she found herself drifting off. It was just a bit of a nap. She swore it.

She closed her eyes. That was all.

Next thing she knew, she was jolting awake, and they were no longer driving, Folio was knocking on the window before opening her door.

“Come on, sleepy head, we’re here!”

It took her a moment, Ellie blinking herself awake, not surprising with how little sleep she’d been getting with how long she’d been sleeping on the streets, and even longer, jumping from place to place, stressing out trying to make ends meet before everything finally fell completely apart.

Somehow, that all ended today. At least for now, while she worked for this company. It was funny, she didn’t even know their name yet, or where she was

“Hey, Folio, where are we anyway?”

“Oh, oh, you mean Nicholas didn’t tell you?”

There was something about his amused little chuckle then, like he knew something she didn’t,

“Ellie, WELCOME TO HELL!”

What. The. Fuck.

Looking from Folio to the large cast iron gates that he was walking towards. The gates that seemed to be, wait…

She glanced around… the only way…

The space the car was parked in looked like a car park, for exactly one space, and stepping away from it, the further she walked, the car seemed to vanish, like now that it wasn’t needed, it was just, gone

What was happening?

Glancing back to the gate, with Folio standing in front of them, his bright grin on his face as he looked to her, waiting, waving her over,

“Cool huh? Come on, I’m sure your apartment is all ready for you and everything!”

As she walked towards the gates, glancing back towards the car once more, the car, the road behind them, all of it was almost completely gone..

Spinning around to stare at Folio, what the he- Shit. Shit shit shit.

Her steps quickened as she approached the gate, the cast irons bars opened on their own as they approached, creaking, as if they were old, ancient, it was creepy, menacing, and fuck, that was just-

Her thoughts disturbed by Folio chuckling again… she looked over at him before he waved towards the gate.

“Sorry sorry.”

Soon as he waved, the gate stopped making the noise and was perfectly silent and normal as it closed, the world beyond the gate looking normal once more, though, completely non-descript, like a long highway to nowhere.

“Where are we Folio, really?”

“I told you, we’re in Hell, let’s go.”

Ellie was in a state of shock, she had to be, what else could she be? Folio was still chattering away about the look on her face when he walked her up to an apartment building with yet another heavily tattooed man waiting for her out front.

Not that she was complaining, they were hot. It was almost a disappointment she probably wasn’t going to see Nicholas again. Despite what he’d said to her that morning… Would she see him again? The way Folio spoke of him too, they seemed to be well acquainted, it was interesting.

A lot of this didn’t entirely add up.

Maybe it would start making sense soon.

She’d consider asking Folio, but after the tricks at the gate, and the HELL stuff, she wasn’t sure he’d be straight with her.

Maybe this guy would be.

Now. Ellie didn’t know what expression was on her face when they approached him but he took one look at her and immediately an exasperated sigh escaped him as he glanced to the other man,

“Really, Folio? You break the new recruit on her first day?! She hasn’t even moved in you Rövhatt.”

Shaking his head, he glanced at her, Ellie looking at him, trying to get a feel for him, while like Nicholas he had long hair, his was flowing down around his shoulder instead of being tied back, and he had a bit of an accent to his words, she wasn’t quite sure she could place it yet.

“You alright, Sweetheart? He didn’t scare you, did he? I know he’s a bit of a handful sometimes, but he’s a puppy dog, really, doesn’t bite a lick.”

Levelling a half-hearted glare at Folio with a smirk,

“Shoo!”

And with that, the shorter man laughed, nudging Ellie slightly with his elbow,

“It was great meeting you, don’t be a stranger, us mortals gotta stick together around here!”

With that, and a playful wave of his hands like he was playing the drums and he’s just made the funniest joke in the world, earning an eye roll from the other man, and off he went.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[bellysoupset]

So I was wondering 👉👈 with Wendy adjusting to Vince being Gone maybe she gets really sick and just misses him but doesn’t want to call but like maybe Jonah comes to check on her and she’s very emotional and he finally calls Vince to talk to her while she is sick or something ? sorry I’m a sucker for their love 🏳️

Hiiii, I LOVED this ask and it was overdue Leo as a caretaker to Wendy, so I did a little switcharoo, I hope you don't mind!

Also this was 🦦's request and someone else's as well!!

This is part 3 of the strep throat fic. Read part 1 here and part 2 here.

----------------------

"Are you sure you don't wanna tag along?" Jonah asked with a pout, for the 5th time.

Leo rolled his eyes, stealing another peck and shoving Jon towards the front door of their apartment, "no, it's your sister. She wants to hang out with you-"

"You were invited-"

"Jonah, it's fine. I'm not gonna die one night alone at home," Leo grinned, kissing him again, "I have a lot of reading to catch up on. And don't even worry about dinner, I'm goin to order something in."

Jonah let out a huff, looking conflicted, "Okay... We're going to be back around ten," he grimaced and Leo chuckled, stealing another kiss and shoving him out.

"Get out of here. Have fun with Angie," he rested on the threshold, "love you."

"Love you too," Jonah sighed, fixing his trench coat and walking to the elevator, while Leo crouched down to stop JD from darting out of the front door.

Leo let out a happy sigh as soon as he shut the door, looking forward to his lazy night in. He loved Jonah, but it was good to have some time apart from each other and Leo had many plans to do ten different shades of nothing.

He sprawled on the couch and JD jumped on top of him, butting her head against his chin, "you're so cute," he cooed, scratching the kitten and smooching the top of her head, "the cutest cat ever."

She let out an indignant meow at being squeezed, but didn't pull back at all and Leo happily continued to pester the animal, kissing her all over.

He hadn't been lying, there was a lot of reading to be done and at least two different actions movies he wanted to watch. By the time he finished going through his copy of Copyright Wars, JD was purring like a little engine against his belly, curled up in a way that her fluffy tail was nearly tickling her nose.

Leo lowered the book, opening a smile at the kitten and smoothing a hand down her spine. JD didn't even stir.

He gave up on the double movie idea, since it was already almost 9 o'clock, and instead ordered food, yawning already. Leo sighed, he was getting old, sleepy at 9 PM.

It was 10 already when Leo finished scrapping the bottom of his food container and he stretched on the couch, glancing at his phone briefly. Not a text from Jon, which was good, meant he was actually enjoying himself with Angie.

Deciding he should watch the movie in bed, since he was going to most likely fall asleep through it, Leo got up to go fix the guest room for Angie's stay.

He fully expected it to be Jonah when he heard a phone ringing, so Leo took a second to realize that his own phone was in the pocket of his sweatpants, not ringing.

JD was already inspecting the source of the noise, Jon's phone fallen under the couch, and Leo picked it up without thinking, just wanting to make the noise stop.

"Hi?"

"Jon, can you- Leo?" Wendy interrupted herself and Leo let out a small chuckle, squishing the phone between his shoulder and cheek and getting back to the task of fixing the guest room.

"Jonah forgot his phone home," he entered the guest bathroom to make sure they had extra towels and then jumped at a loud noise, taking a second to realize the rattling cough was coming from the phone, not inside his apartment, "are you alright? That didn't sound good..." He paused against the bathroom door and heard as Wendy wheezed and gasped for air.

"I'm fine," she scoffed, her voice completely shot, "I'm fine, I just-" Wendy didn't sound fine, not even remotely. Not only she sounded terribly sick, and it was probably his fault by being all germy in her apartment, but she sounded sad.

"Is anyone with you?" Leo asked, biting his bottom lip and nervously looking around.

"I don't need a babysitter, I'm fine," Wendy groaned, causing him to sigh.

"Taking that as a no," he ran his fingers nervously through his hair, "alright, you need anything from the pharmacy?"

A small hesitation and he realized this had probably been the reason she called in the first place.

"Wendy?"

"Uhm- More tissues and cough syrup? I'm out," because she had fed him half the bottle.

"On it," Leo turned around and left the bathroom, heading to the kitchen where they kept a notepad to list down groceries and scribbling a note for Jon, "I'm gonna be there in twenty, don't die."

He hung up before she could complain.

-----

"You look great," Leo said sarcastically, the minute Wendy opened the door of her apartment. She had a blanket wrapped around her as if it was a cape and her face was waxy white, nose all red and raw.

He expected a response, their usual back and forth, but all Leo got was Wendy staring at him drowsily, swaying on the spot. There was a feverish haze to her eyes and she seemed really unsteady on her feet.

"Oookay," Leo cringed, planting his hands on her shoulder, "let's sit down before you collapse."

"Uhm..." Wendy allowed him to guide her back inside and Leo steered her to the living room couch, where she clearly had already set camp. There was a waste basket next to the couch, filled almost to the top with little tissue balls, an empty box of tissues, one of those tacky inspirational water bottles that showed someone's liquid intake for the day, currently stuck on "halfway there!"

Wendy collapsed on the couch and promptly fell back against the cushions, pressing her eyes closed, "what are you doing here...?"

Her voice wasn't above a whisper.

"Can't let you die, I'll never hear the end of it," Leo shrugged, dumping the contents of his paper bag on her coffee table, "when was the last time you took medicine?"

"How'd you get in?" Wendy frowned, confused, and the man paused, raising his eyebrows.

"You just let me in..." he trailed off and planted his hand to Wen's forehead, hissing at the heat, "isn't that just great. Give me your blanket."

"Uhm?" Wendy shivered violently, "no."

"Yes," Leo sighed, "c'mon, you're boiling up," he manhandled the blanket away from her and Wendy let out a pitiful whine, sounding and looking dangerously close to tears.

"I'm cold..." She groaned, frustrated and trying to grab her blanket back, "Leoo..."

"Sorry," he threw the blanket on the armchair, "when did you last take medicine, Wen?"

"I don't know," she sniffled, rubbing at her eyes angrily, "my head is killing me."

"Because you have a raging fever," Leo crouched in front of her, grabbing the brand new thermomether he had purchased and removing it from the plastic case, "under your tongue, c'mon."

Wendy opened her mouth to complain, only to immediately be hit by a terrible, painful coughing fit and Leo jumped to hold her by the shoulders as she folded in half with the coughing.

He could hear her lungs rattling and Leo cringed in sympathy and guilt, sitting next to her and rubbing her back in firm circles. Wendy let out a whimper and reached for the waste basket, as her coughs turned into gags, tears streaming down her face. She gagged fruitlessly over the basket, before finally stopping, panting as if she had ran a marathon. Leo could feel her heart hammering just by touching her.

Deciding he really didn't care if she had taken medicine already or not, Leo reached for the antibiotics that Jonah had fed him when sick. It was in syrup, which he had appreciated immensely because his throat hurt too much to swallow, and Wendy clearly shared this opinion, because she obediently took the dosage off the measuring cup.

"Alright, now-" Leo pushed her to the side, until she was lying against the pillows, and folded her legs as if Wendy was a doll, "lie down and get some rest."

Wendy let out a sigh and curled up, shivering, "Leo, I'm freezing."

"I'm sorry," he pouted, "but you're really, really warm, I don't think you should have a blanket..."

She didn't answer him, only let out a little teary whine and hugged herself, continuing to shiver. It broke his heart, so Leo started rubbing her arm up and down as if to generate warmth.

He assumed the worst was over, as nearly one hour passed without Wendy so much as stirring, so Leo got up to fix up her place. He picked up the tissues that had missed the waste basket, as well as her water bottle and went to dispose of the trash and make her some tea.

Leo was lying against the fridge, waiting for the kettle to whistle, when his phone started to buzz. He glanced at the picture of Jonah, him watching the sunset in Italy, and picked it up, "hey..."

"Hi, I'm going over," Jon sounded worried, "switch places with me."

"No, you're not," Leo sighed, rolling his eyes, "Angie is here, you're gonna stay with your sister and preferably not infect her with this bug. I can handle Wendy..."

There was a second of silence as Jonah clearly tried to argue, but found no fault in his logic. Instead he let out a groan, "how is she?"

"She's got a really high fever, but I fed her some medicine and now she's asleep," Leo shrugged, before he remembered his boyfriend couldn't see him, "it's just strep, she'll live, babe."

"Uhm," Jon didn't sound convinced, "that's a bummer, we were supposed to have lunch with her tomorrow. Angie and I."

Leo felt a flash of jealousy that he wasn't included in those plans, but he quickly pushed it away. It was good that they weren't tied by the hip, he reminded himself.

"Yeah, you'll have to reschedule, there's no way she's going anywhere tomorrow," Leo removed the kettle from the stove, "do you know what her favorite tea is?"

"Lemon and ginger," Jonah answered and Leo could vaguely hear Angelina's voice in the background, cooing over JD.

"How's Angie?"

"She's fine, planning to steal our cat," Jon teased and Leo heard Angie let out an offended gasp at his words, causing him to smile fondly at the interaction.

His smile promptly slipped away as he heard Wendy cough and choke in the living room.

"Gotta go, bye. Love you," Leo said quickly, not waiting for an answer and rushing out of the kitchen. He was a second too late, because just as he was about to circle the couch he heard Wendy's cough turn into gags and then pink liquid covered the front of her hoodie.

She groaned, hiccupping and sobbing, "I'm sorry, I- I don't feel good, I'msorry-"

"Hey," Leo frowned, crouching in front of her and pushing Wendy's short hair away from her mouth. She was still really warm, like the medicine had done nothing at all, "hey, Wen, it's fine. Nothing laundry can't fix, it's okay..."

"Itsssgross," she groaned, her pale face all red, scrunched up as she cried. Big fat tears running down her cheeks, "I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," Leo rolled his eyes, tucking her hair behind the ear, "look at me," he forced their eyes to meet, "you're alright."

She sniffled, "I feel disgusting."

"Shut up," Leo scoffed, grabbing a tissue and wiping her lips and her chin. Wendy didn't say or do anything, looking every bit a kid as he fussed over her, "arms up."

It was more than a little unnerving to not have her sass him. Leo fully expected at least one comment about him removing her hoodie and leaving her just in her bra, but instead Wendy only shivered violently, curling up and coughing again.

"I'm gonna get you a new hoodie," he grabbed the ditched blanket from the armchair and wrapped it around her shoulders, "be right back."

Once she was changed into a new outfit, Wendy curled back up on the couch, sniffling and continuing to cough every five minutes or so. Leo was tired, but he couldn't imagine just how exhausted she was.

"I made you tea, do you wanna try it? Might help your throat," he walked back to the cough with the mug and Wendy shook her head.

"Gonna come back up," she rasped, breaking into a new coughing fit and whimpering, touching her throat, "I want Vin..."

Leo's heart all but broke in a million little pieces. He couldn't help but put himself in her shoes, "how about we facetime him, what do you think?" he suggested despite his better judgment and the fact it was nearly midnight on a school night.

Wendy immediately perked up, before she frowned and shook her head, "gonna bother him," she curled up more, "then he'll break up with me."

He frowned at that, "...What? No, he won't, what the fuck?" Leo rolled his eyes, pushing Wendy's feet on the couch so he could sit next to her and then grabbing his phone, "you're not a bother, you're his girlfriend."

Wendy let out a little scoff at that, sniffling once more and Leo glared at his phone, suddenly feeling a lot more protective than he would've liked.

The phone rang and rang and then suddenly Vince's face appeared. Tired and alarmed, with a glittery star glued to one side of his face and red marks that indicated he had fallen asleep on top of a notebook.

"Leo? Kid, is really late, is everything okay?"

"No," Leo shook his head, "Wen's sick, can you just chat-"

Vince's frown deepened, as he interrupted, "sick? How sick? I can go over-"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed at that, before whimpering when that caused her throat to hurt and starting to cough all over again. Leo rolled his eyes, thumping her back.

"She's got my strep bug," he explained, "you don't have to come over, just talk with her a little, will ya?"

"Yeah, of course," Vince eagerly nodded, rubbing a hand over his face in order to look more awake. Leo passed Wendy the phone and then heard Vin's voice twice as soft as he said, "hey honey, not feeling well?"

"I'm fine," Wendy lied, causing Vince to laugh given her tone wasn't above a raspy whisper, and Leo to snort. He patted Wendy's calf, getting up from the couch.

"I'm gonna get you some more medicine," he whispered, messing Wendy's sweaty bangs and moving away when she tried to slap his hand.

He put away another dosage of the syrup, before heading to Wendy's bedroom and fixing up her pillows, pulling on the blankets as well. Once he returned to the living room, Wen was half asleep lying on her side, giggling as Vince explained why he was covered in glitter.

Leo saw as the man panned the camera, revealing his baby sister passed out on his bad, surrounded by crayons and glitter glue, "I didn't have the heart to wake her up. She was helping me grade the kid's papers."

"Cute," Wendy sniffled, "get a picture for me."

"Of course," Vince yawned, "here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna check with Daniels if he can get my seniors last period tomorrow and I'll go over to be with you, alright?"

"You don't have to do that," Wendy mumbled, rubbing at her forehead, "I'm an adult and Leo is here and-"

"She'd love it," Leo interrupted, "sounds like a great idea."

Because he knew she was lying through her teeth. Wendy's shoulders dropped with visible relief as Vince shrugged in agreement.

"It's not a big deal, honey, Daniels already keeps my seniors half my class anyway, he might as well keep them for the remaining forty minutes too."

"Who's Daniels?" Wendy yawned, smiling and Vince let out a loud huff.

"Some asshole," then his voice softened up, "get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I love you."

"I love you too..." Wendy's eyes were already closed and it came out more like a wheeze. Leo took the phone from her, wordlessly waving to Vince and hanging up.

"Hey," he touched Wendy's arm, "let's move you to bed, c'mon."

"Uhmm?"

"C'mon," Leo pulled her up on her feet and Wendy slumped against him, pressing her feverish forehead to his chest. Once they entered the bedroom, he handed her the medicine, "big gulp."

"It's gonna make me sick," Wendy groaned, barely seeming to be conscious.

"It won't," Leo pushed it in her hand, "and the waste basket is right here and I'll be in the couch, okay? It's gonna be fine."

"You're staying?" Wendy asked, before gulping the medicine down and shuddering at the taste. She curled up under the thin blanket Leo had left on the bed and hugged her pillow.

"Duh," Leo smoothed her hair, "of course."

"Uhm," Wendy hummed, smiling and didn't say anything else until he walked to the door and hit the lights, keeping the hallway light on, "hey Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an ass," she whispered and even in the half dark he could clearly see the smile on her face. Leo smiled back.

"Yeah, well, game recognizes game, Wen. Get some rest," he grinned, leaving her door open and walking to the living room.

[mike----wazowski]

i completely forgot i had something for sunday six last week lmao but i'll just post it today @four-white-trees @overdevelopedglasses @skysquid22 @passthroughtime @woundedheartwithin i've also seen @jichanxo being tagged in others so i thought i might add- hope that's ok!! 🫡🫡

this has been sitting in my drafts for ages and is a really old snippet. rikiya content was the first writing i did for yakuza 😔✊️

***

"Riona, what are you doing out here? I asked you to get me your dirty laundry."

Kiryu's scolding seemed to go over Riona's head. She had her hands on her hips, and was striking a pose. "I'm practising my runway walk, Uncle Kaz. I'll need it for when I'm a supermodel!"

Kiryu sighed. "A supermodel."

"Yeah!"

"I thought you wanted to be a fashion designer?"

"Changed my mind!"

"Right. Well, maybe practice being a supermodel after you've given me your laundry," Kiryu said, with as much patience as a father-of-nine could muster. "You won't get on the runway with dirty clothes, will you?"

"What's this about bein' a supermodel?" A bright voice rang out. Haruka beamed as Rikiya approached the gates of Morning Glory, Mikio in tow. The moment they heard him (Rikiya could be heard from Downtown Ryukyu), the other kids emerged from the house, and Taichi came running to wrestle him, as was his signature greeting.

"Riona's practising her walk for the runway," Haruka chirped, as Rikiya was almost knocked off his feet. "She wants to be a catwalk model one day."

"Ohh, right, of course- Riona's our little fashionista!" Trying (and failing) to fend Taichi off, Rikiya called, "Let's see that walk, then, Riona!"

"Okay!"

Kiryu cleared his throat as Riona readied herself. "What about your laundry?"

Riona paid him no heed, starting up her attempt at a runway walk. She looked rather like a wobbly duckling taking its first steps, but Rikiya and Mikio cheered with the enthusiasm of a stadium crowd.

"Wow! You're gonna be at all the big shows!" Mikio said, and Rikiya yelped in agreement, unable to say more with Taichi trying to drag him down.

"Thanks! I keep asking Uncle Kaz to get me a pair of heels so I can practice properly, but he always says no," Riona said.

"Aniki- just doesn't- understand the lifestyle," Rikiya wheezed. Fortunately for him, Taichi had now switched targets to Mikio. "He's an unfashionable old man, y'know?"

"She's too young to wear heels," Kiryu intoned. "Plus, you're pretty far from the supermodel lifestyle yourself, Rikiya."

"Whaaa-" Rikiya let out a theatrical gasp, wheeling around to face Haruka. "Haruka-chan, did ya hear what he just said?"

"I did," Haruka giggled.

"Am I wrong?" Kiryu asked, voice dust-dry. "Anyway, we've had our fun- laundry now, Riona, and if you two are here you can help me with the-"

"Nope, nope, nope. I ain't lettin' this stand!" Rikiya interrupted, pushing his chest out. "I'm gonna show you how I strut my stuff, Aniki!"

"... what."

"I'm gonna do a runway walk that makes you go gaga!"

Taichi finally let up on his assault, dropping off of Mikio's back. "Isn't that for girls, Uncle Rikiya?"

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing!" Ayako scolded him.

"Both girls and guys both do modelling," Mikio told him. "I dunno if Rikiya fits the part, though. You gotta be good looking to be a model."

"Hey, go to hell!" Rikiya protested. "I'll show ya both what I can do!"

Though Kiryu looked like he wanted to protest, the prospect of seeing Rikiya make a fool of himself was enticing. And now Rikiya had his audience, he probably would go ignored anyway.

"Gotta have a good starting point..." Rikiya jogged over to the gates of Morning Glory. "You watch this!"

"Oh, I'm watching," Kiryu sighed.

Rikiya took long, flying strides, head angled so he was gazing dramatically into the distance. He wiggled his hips in a way that shouldn't have been anatomically possible. The kids shrieked with laughter, and Kiryu shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm gonna show you my passion... I'm gonna show you my fire..." He seemed to be going above and beyond a regular catwalk, adding off-key singing to the mix.

"Are you a model or an idol?" Kiryu asked.

"Both, aniki! I'm a triple threat! Singin', dancin', and killin' with good looks!" He turned to the kids. "Wanna join in?"

Izumi and Riona jumped at the chance, running to join him on his little stage. It took a moment of bravery, but Mitsuo followed. Never one to be upstaged, Taichi jumped in next, and soon all of them but Haruka were following Rikiya's makeshift choreography.

"I guess I'm never getting that laundry," Kiryu sighed, but he was smiling so openly Haruka couldn't take him seriously. "Not feeling like a supermodel, Haruka? Or dancer- whatever he thinks he's doing."

"Come on, Haruka-chan! Gotta show your oji-san what's what!" Rikiya called. "I'll have your heart inside of my hand-"

"'Cause I am the queen, oh queen of the passion!" Haruka jumped in, and Kiryu let out a genuine laugh, loud and strong.

It was just like Rikiya to turn a quiet night into one where everyone danced.

So of all the things wrong with his body- the bullet wounds, the blood, the empty eyes- the stillness was the worst part.

[miss-malheur]

The Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your most recent unposted WIP with zero context.

tagged by @sunshinesebby Thank you <3

I had a hard time picking a snippet and it's a bit longer, but I wanted it to have some context . (Maybe I also want to tease you a bit.) It's from my story "To give us new colours" - or my NannyCharles story as I call it.

In the bluish grey morning light the illuminated windows seem like an island of warmth and he knows that Sebastian is making waffles for the girls, can almost smell the buttery batter baking on the hot iron. Can hear Momo purring around everyone's legs until she gets a small piece. There will be sprinkles and chocolate chips and probably whipped cream with yogurt and freshly cooked apple sauce. And there will be singing and laughter, teasing and giggling. "Boo!" Someone suddenly grabs at him and Charles almost jumps a feet into the air, flinching so hard that he spill coffee over his bare feet and the wooden floorboards. "Fuck!" Behind him Pierre cackles so loud and hard that it's echoing through the silence of the guest house and the whole property. Thankfully the coffee wasn't hot anymore so there aren't any burns, only stains. "Are you crazy?! Shh, before you wake everyone." "Sorry, but… wow your reaction! I thought—" Pierre almost chokes, trying to speak while still laughing so hard there are actual tears in the corners of his eyes. "I thought you heard me!" "I didn't!" Charles shoves Pierre so that he stumbles back—clearly deserved after his prank. He's still pressing his hand to his stomach, bend over and wheezing with laughter. "Yeah, that much was obvious, Calamar." He says when he's finally recovered enough to form correct sentences. Folding his arm around Charles shoulder he leans against him. "Uhhh… I wonder what is so captivating that you forgot everything around you." "Nothing! I was just… lost in thought." "Mhm, sure." Pierre sounds so disbelieving that Charles is tempted to shove him again. He doesn't, but he regrets it just five seconds later, when his friend continues. "Is Sebastian aware that you've got a crush on him?" "He—I… What? I don't have a crush on him! Are you stupid?! Wait—obviously you are. I mean…" "Calamar… Charles. Charlie." "No! Don't, don't 'Charlie' me!" It's the name his mother used when he's done something wrong; Charles hates it. Folding his arms in front of his chest he stares at Pierre, brows furrowed, mouth twisted. "Sorry," Pierre raises both of his hands and gives him a softer smile. There's regret in his eyes and he really sounds like he means it. Charles relaxes a little bit, but not enough to allow Pierre to reel him back in against his side. "I don't have a crush," he whispers. "I'm really sorry…" Pierre repeats and tentatively nudges Charles' side with his elbow. "But you do."

Hope you liked it. I tag @killianjoenss, @kaossbells, @avida-heidia-5, @breakmystrings, @ladypink80, @melancholiepeufiable and everyone else who wants to do this.

[sparatus]

WIP Game - Desolas fucks up on purpose pretty please?

wip game

THREE PEOPLE ASKED FOR THIS ONE IM WHEEZING local menace is just so so appealing while setting shit on fire gonna tag @teamdilf and @korblez while im here

okay so for some additional comedy i mean context, there's this post, which led to this exchange:

and lo, a crackfic was born

basically! valis's family does not like des. des does not like valis's family. valis has been keeping low contact with them, no visits, for years. unfortunately, they now have two chicks, 5yo taniria and almost-1yo desivius, and valis's parents' desire to hold grandbabies finally outweighed their desire to never see desolas in person ever. so they pester valis into agreeing to a visit, and getting des to bring food.

problem: desolas is king shitbird.

he's sabotaging that shit on purpose.

valis is kept entirely in the dark, for plausible deniability (and also because sivvi still needs his food regurgitated for him and des isn't entirely confident his affront to the spirits is safe for regurgitating parents), but baby tanni is recruited to """help""", and she is SO good at helping daddy :) saren and the feral coyotes he found in the trash are on a mission but love chaos and are happy to also provide dipshit ideas.

have a snip:

--

When she made it into the kitchen, Des was carrying Taniria on his hip, bouncing to the beat as he serenaded her with… Galactic Cannibals, she was pretty sure, it sounded like one of Saren’s playlists. Tan was only four and didn’t really understand the lyrics, but her muxaup was singing and dancing with her, and she liked music that made her move as much as any turian, so she was having a blast just clinging to Des’s arm and giggling. She noticed Valis first, turning her head at the sound of the cane and squeaking an excited, “Phatzhi!” as she stretched out an arm to invite her to the little party.

Unbidden, Valis’s mandibles lifted, just a few degrees, just in time for Desolas to glance over his shoulder. “Oh, hey,” he purred, lifting his own mandibles in that easy grin of his. “I found one last package of ground cornin in the freezer, so we’re making… Iunno, it’s pasta with meat and cheese, nothing fancy. I see you survived your call with the demon.”

And just like that, her faint smile fell into a grimace as she slowly paced forward to pull out a chair at the table and slump into it. Des’s grin slowly fell, too, and he clicked his mandibles against his face and reached over to turn off the music. “Uh-oh, Phatzhi’s makin’ a face,” he told Taniria. “You better go work your magic, little bird.”

Tan chirped, and when Des set her down, she came hopping right over to Valis’s chair, eyes big and curious. While Valis shifted to let her daughter climb up into her lap, Des whirred. “Alright, what did she say? You look like you found a whole hive of something venomous under the bed.”

Valis scowled and pulled her mandibles in against her face. “Apparently, we're invited to Solstice," she huffed. “So my mother can meet the kids.”

Desolas blinked slowly, moving his mandibles in and out while he thought. “Hold on," he said finally, “they invited us last year, but you didn't tell me ‘til after Siv was born, ‘cause you said fuck off, on account of. Y’know.” He gestured vaguely to her belly. “No travel while pregnant and about to pop."

“And not likin’ my husband," she grumbled. “Tan, what's the rule about words Muxaup says?"

"Not ‘til my mubbles get long,” Tan replied promptly, tapping the backs of her stubby little mandibles.

Valis chuffed and ruffed a hand over her daughter’s scalp, trying not to get distracted by her heart fluttering over how small she was. "Smart lass,” she purred, and Tan giggled and pressed into the touch.

Des purred briefly, then puffed and went back to the meat. “And, you only let it slip last year because you were blitzed on painkillers and forgot you weren't gonna tell me. And yet now this year, you're telling me three weeks in advance." He tapped the grease off the spatula, then turned fully to fold his arms and face her. “You accepted, didn't you."

[ao3feed-jaydick]

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60538876 by DryDreams The last thing Jason is expecting is to be shoved into the curtains of the shadowed hallway, still close enough to the ballroom that he can hear the chatter and clinking of glasses, so that Dickie can slot their hips together and yank him down into a heated kiss. Words: 4064, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Categories: M/M Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake (DCU), eventually lol - Character Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Reverse Robins, Batkids Age Reversal, Consensual Underage Sex, Horny Teenagers, babies in love...., Semi-Public Sex, Clothed Sex, First Times, Dickie is incorrigible and Jason is weak, Adopted Sibling Relationship, almost forgot that bit wheeze, Jason is anxious he wants to be good and sweet, tags will update bc they are gonna do increasingly naughty things, Oh, Trans Dick Grayson, Oral Fixation read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60538876

[rainpebble3]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much to @thequeenofthewinter for the tag. And what a lovely snip you shared <3

I'll tag @mareenavee @paraparadigm @kookaburra1701 @orfeoarte @archangelsunited @gilgamish @thana-topsy @tallmatcha @snippetsrus @rhiannon1199 @inquisitiondragonborn @the-storytellers-seer @elfinismsarts @friend-of-giants @saltymaplesyrup @changelingsandothernonsense @thelightofmorning @dirty-bosmer

I wish I had more to share but words haven't been wording so please enjoy my paltry offering of Nera chatting to Savos :)

edit: ooops almost forgot some screenies :D

Chapter 11 - Still 😅

He held up a hand, “Brelyna’s mother is not named Savyana. The Maryon family has always been close to mine and I have known Brelyna since she was a child. So, could you perhaps tell me the truth before I summon some atronachs to escort you from my college?”

His college?! Nera swallowed, struggling to get past the knot forming in her throat. Her next words came out in a harried wheeze. “My name is really Nera, I met Brelyna in Windhelm… she…” Nera stopped and clenched her fists. She shook herself before continuing. She couldn’t lose her chance to escape the frozen pit of Oblivion she had been born in.

Master Aren watched quietly. “Windhelm?”

Nera nodded. “Yes. I was born there and well, Brelyna was passing through on her way here and she saved me from…” Rolff’s words from her nightmare echoed violently in her ears and Nera shuddered before continuing, “Brelyna saved me from an attack. She used magic against him and told me to come with her for my own safety.”

“You’re from the Gray Quarter?”

Unable to stop herself, Nera flinched. “Yes, sir.”

“Your assailant, I presume he was a Nord?”

She paused at the question, it caught her off guard for a moment. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Eventually she nodded and Master Aren sighed. Neither one of them spoke for a while, but Nera was kicking herself for being caught out like this. Gods what if she got Brelyna kicked out too?

“I hope this doesn’t affect Brelyna’s future here,” she suddenly whispered. “Please, Master Aren, she just wanted to help me out of a bad situation…”

“I’m glad she did,” he interrupted before sighing again, running a hand through his bone white hair and lowering his hood. “Given what you have said, I fear I already know the answer, but I must still ask. Are things still as bad as they were years ago? The last time I visited it was… it was terrible.”

Nera hugged herself tightly. “It’s worse. My parents discouraged me from doing anything that would have brought any attention to my existence as a Dunmer.”

This seemed to upset him, and his lined face furrowed. “Damn it. I had hoped things would improve with time.”

“You and my father both.”

Master Aren eyed her. “Are your parents…?”

“They’re alive, and as well as they can be.”

“And they approved of you leaving with a stranger?”

She shook her head. “Not at all, my father said if I left, I was no longer…” she stopped as tears suddenly choked her. She sniffed and blinked them away. “I was no longer part of their family.”

“You seem upset by this?” he asked, and she nodded. “So why do it?”

Nera couldn’t explain why the words fell so freely, they just did. Something about Master Aren made her feel safer, perhaps it was some strange illusion magic or something else. “Because if I stayed, I would be dead. Or I would be trapped, powerless for the rest of my life. Something which could be easily ended by those Nords, and no one would care.”

Master Aren tugged on his beard as he digested her words. He finally nodded. “I understand. And I will continue as if you were Miss Maryon’s sister.”

The tension left her body and she nearly crumpled to her knees. “Thank you, Master Aren.”

He frowned at her. “I’m sorry for the circumstances which brought you here, but as long as you abide by our rules, you will always be welcome here.”

She nodded, clenching her fists tightly. “Yes, thank you.”

He rose with a groan and began walking back towards the main building of the college. “So, did she move?” he asked.

Nera glanced at the statue of Azura. The sun had risen higher, and the clouds were different, instead of seeming like a misty shawl, they had grown thinner into a short scarf. She nodded quietly. “I think so.”

[neptoons1998]

A Mother's Tenderness

A/N: 3/4 We're almost done! I going to post the mother's day special Monday because I have stuff going on.

Tag gang: @mal-urameshi @xblackreader @pantherheart @somethingcleaverandwhitty @karimwillia @elleaitch22 @therosehost @purple-nugget

Summary: Riri is sick and Okoye is spying

Riri liked a whole of things since her move to States. She liked soul food and Slurpees. Even though it was primitive she liked her iPhone and her classes were easy enough. One thing she doesn’t like is being sick, she forgot being in Wakanda colds and flus were rarely thing in the small nation, but here she was laying on her twin bed as hacked up her lungs. The college student below her nose one more time. Tissues littered in her wastebasket, Riri groans as she felt the shiver in her spin. Before she went to sleep drank some cough syrup, hoping to sleep it off. 

Okoye knew she was supposed to go straight back to Wakanda after the mission she just finished but like her daughter, she was curious about how her daughter was doing. Okoye put the plane in stealth mode as she hopped out of it as made her way to MIT. 

Okoye shook her head, it was way too easy to sneak into this college, the woman walk in front of her daughter’s dorm room. Should she knock?  No Okoye thought she is her mother after all. What happens if she has company? Before Okoye could spiral she twisted the door knob and walked in, "Riri?"

Okoye flicked the light on as her eyes looked at her small girl wheezing, while her face scrunched up in pain. Okoye placed her cool hand on her daughter’s forehead, “Riri, Riri wake up.”

Riri groans as she felt the cool hand leaving her. Okoye forcibly made Riri sit up in her bed. Riri was slowly waking up as her eyes counited to blink, "Mama?" she said, confused. "What are you doing here?"

Okoye noticed her daughter’s words were slurring, "Oh I was just in the neightborhood" her mother said. "You're sick."

Riri gave a wetly laugh, “That’s one of putting it. But how did you get here?"

Okoye went to the dorm’s adjoined bathroom to wet one of her daughter’s hand towels, “Simply I’m a part of the most powerful military.” Riri smiled as her mother placed the towel on her forehead. "Of course you are," she said.

“This is the most real hallucination I ever had,” Riri said as she handle her mother’s hand tightly, “MJ had some good cough syrup. Or maybe I accidently made lean.”

“You’re not hallucinating, Riri,” Her mother smiled back. 

Riri has another wet laugh, “It has to be. B-because my umama is angry at me because I’m a coward.”

Okoye wanted to talk to her daughter and how she wasn’t angry anymore and she could somewhat understand why she had to leave. Okoye knew she couldn’t hold a conversation with Riri right now. One day soon  Okoye thought, “Now, lie down and get some rest," she said. "I'll take care of everything."

Riri closed her eyes and fell asleep. When she woke up, she felt much better. Her mother was gone, if Riri didn’t know any better she would have thought she made it up. Riri looked down at her shirt a thin white square that laid on top of it. The healing patch, that every Dora had in their sac. Riri smiled. She knew her mother would always be there for her, no matter how far away she was.

[fictionkinfessions]

https://www.tumblr.com/fictionkinfessions/716540080888627200/sort-of-a-response-to-decayed-foundations?source=share

Hey MPC, sorry to bother you, but I think you forgot almost all of the tags on this post? /lh /nm

I'm not trying to be rude, of course! I just wanted to point it out. If you did that intentionally for some reason, that's fine too! /gen

WHEEZE no I forgot to paste in the tags and didn't catch that when I mass queued a bunch of posts!! Thank you for pointing that out, Fukase friend didn't even get Fukase's custom tag either! Shaking my smh!

Mod Party Cat!