#I am watching America's Cup

[sol-dial]

I come back from the void to ramble about the Avengers Assemble cartoon, so be prepared hehe :3

TL;DR/Main idea

The near end of season 1, episode 22 "By The Numbers" is what Steve’s painting of Tony in season 2, episode 19 "The New Guy" (..maybee..?)

I’m looking at this through a Superhusbands lens sooo beware qwq.

Brief spoilers for both episodes, soo yeah!

"By The Numbers" is Tony feeling guilty for allowing Red Skull access to all their training recordings and how to easily defeat them, so Tony fixates and obsesses, to an unhealthy extent, of numbers and statistics to determine the team's next moves. 

Throughout the episode, it is shown that Steve is worried about this and comforts Tony a bunch (dealing with fear and how to react to it, telling him to depend on his team). 

At the end of the episode, Tony re-watches the failing of the Avengers, well more specifically Tony's failure of leadership. It was a huge impact on him (shown beautifully without words and all body language even with the armor and not showing Tony's face) since he pushed the Avengers too far. There was a point where Tony looked on helplessly while one by one, his team was dragged and thrown while looking very beaten up. 

Anyways, so Tony is re-watching the videos and looks haunted and defeated. Steve suddenly walks up to him, holding a yellowish-green-colored cup in one hand.

He comforts Tony again and seems to raise the cup higher, whether to drink it himself or as I see it, as an offer to Tony.

The episode ends with everything fading into black except for Tony's defeated posture.

Now to "The New Guy", which is basically Hawkeye getting over his trust issues with Ant-Man via communication. One prominent moment is where Hawkeye confront Steve about his distrust in Ant-Man while in Steve's room, while Steve is painting. In the background are some paintings that Steve had made in the past. 

One painting that gets a bunch of attention is the one that has a tired-looking Tony staring at whoever is in front of him while holding a cup in one hand. 

I believe that moment is the same one as what could’ve happened off screen after the ending of "By The Numbers” since I can literally imagine Tony, who has probably been through a lot that episode, accepting the cup of coffee albeit grumpy since the two were clashing throughout that episode.

I feel that what Tony was feeling in that episode is conveyed perfectly in Steve's painting. Plus, with the style of Tony in that painting is so season 1, with his thin noodle arms (prominent through shirt sleeves) compared to season 2 having Tony be more defined. Plus, the painting looks like it was at Tony’s lab, the same background where Tony was in “By The Numbers”.

I truly believe that ending of that specific season 1 episode is the inspiration behind the gorgeous painting of a grumpy Tony accepting that cup. Is it a stretch done by a gal who is looking it through a superhusbands lens? Mayhaps.

But, I can so see Steve being greatly affected by how greatly affected Tony was about letting down the team and let the odds control him, thus Steve wanting to capture the moment where Tony learns to depend more on his team (which he definitely does in later episodes and seasons).

It's so adorable because would that mean Tony was looking at Steve like that and Steve decided to paint that? Was it a memory that Steve had, a situation he wanted to have? Because that specific painting is like Steve caught a moment he had with Tony and kept it immortalized forever! :D

[racingliners]

The 'oh wait Bono is actually hot' to 'turning notifications on for the America's Cup' pipeline is... something

[mazojo]

Colombia passing to quarter finals on the World Cup can actually be something so personal

[baronessvonglitter]

America's Favorite Pastime

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader | wc: 2.3K

Summary: your dad invites his best friend Joel over to watch the baseball game, with no clue that Joel's been sneaking around with you. Being a feisty little brat, you make a risky move while the three of you watch the game.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (Joel is mid forties, reader is late teens or early twenties), secret relationship, fingering, hand jobs on the sly, basically getting away with smutty stuff while your dad's nearby

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Your Uncle Joel's comin' by for a bit, gonna watch the ballgame," your dad tells you one warm June evening. Uncle Joel.. you keep your smirk to yourself as you think on the nickname you've known your dad's best friend by all these years. It's especially inappropriate now that you've been hooking up with him since spring break.

And right on time, Joel shows up at your door, jeans snug in all the right places, a heather-gray shirt clinging to his chest, drawing your eyes to the biceps peeking out from beneath his sleeves. There's a few salt and pepper streaks at his temples and in his beard, which when you've pointed out to him, he's laughed off. His eyes dilate at the sight of you, giving you a once-over before he fixes his expression to be one of sociability. "Hey darlin', where's your dad?" he drawls.

"He's on the warpath, can't find batteries to replace the ones in the remote." You let him in, noting the way he brushes against you casually, as if on accident. His hand gently cups your ass, a quick feel before you settle into your roles as family friends. "I'm used to seeing you come through the back door.. or through my window," you murmur, watching his eyes darken with lustful remembrance. "Dad, Uncle Joel's here!" you shout upstairs.

"Damn it, I gotta find some more batteries," Ray calls out from the second floor. "Make yourself at home, buddy!"

Joel chuckles softly at Ray's outburst, his eyes twinkling with playful amusement, and he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. "Looks like we've got a little privacy for a minute, darlin'," he murmurs huskily, his hands sliding down to your hips.

Your panties are already damp at the feel of his large hands on you, fingers playing at the smooth skin between the bottom of your shirt and the top of your shorts. You reach up and run your tongue along the seam of his lips while you put his hand down the front of your jean shorts.

Joel's eyes darken with desire as you guide his hand, his own breath hitching with pleasure at the feel of your warm, wet flesh. "Jesus, Little Miss Eager.. darlin', you're gonna get us caught," he mutters gruffly, his voice husky with need.

"That's part of the thrill," you whisper as he presses you against the back of the sofa. His fingers slide over your slick folds, teasing you, daring you to cry out or whimper.

He grunts softly as his fingers circle your clit, wishing he was nibbling on it the way you love. "What's wrong? Didn't get enough last night? Drivin' me crazy, even with your daddy right upstairs," he whispers back, his voice taut with desire. "Does your daddy know how dirty you are?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," you reply, breathing rapidly at the feel of his invading fingers.

His fingers explore you, teasing you enough without actually giving in to what you want. "You naughty little thing," he whispers against your ear. "You like takin' the risk, don't you? Lettin' me touch you like this even though your daddy could walk in."

"I am naughty.. your naughty little girl.. your naughty little dirty girl.." your voice breaks, gasping.

Joel grunts softly. "Damn right you are," he growls hungrily, his fingers delving further inside you, curling to find the spot that drives you wild.

"Yes! Yes!" You gasp as quiet as you can, one hand supporting you on the sofa and the other digging your nails into his shoulder. Joel's thumb brushes over your clit in a daring response as his eyes gleam with excitement. "Oh you like that, darlin', don't you?"

"Joel you're gonna make me come.." you tell him, your voice dripping with desperation, the pleasure uncoiling in the pit of your stomach, waiting to be released.

His fingers move faster, generating more friction with your touch. "You gonna come for me right now, with your daddy in the next room?" His voice is taunting and seductive, a dare in and of itself.

"Yes.. yes.. yes!" you squeak out as you come hard around his fingers.

Joel whispers praises against your ear as your pussy grips his fingers, drenching them in your sweet juices. "That's it, darlin', give it to me.. just like that.. good girl," he whispers. "You're so damn beautiful when you come for me like that." His voice is low, husky, full of admiration, and his eyes are full of love and desire.

You whisper his name as you come down, enjoying the little aftershocks of pleasure.

Ray's voice booms out from above. "Hey, what's that noise down there?"

Joel curses under his breath, quickly removing his hand from your shorts, his body tensing as he listens out for Ray's next move.

"We're looking for the batteries, Daddy!" You call back upstairs, taking Joel's wet fingers and licking your juice off them.

Your dad grunts a reply upstairs.

"You little vixen," Joel grins, a lustful expression on his face as he watches you lick his fingers.

"But you like me this way."

"Oh I do. I like you like this way too much, but right now I have to put some space between us before you dad comes down or he's definitely gonna see somethin' he doesn't wanna see."

You pout but he's right. "Don't worry," he mutters, "we'll make up for lost time later. I promise." He goes to wash up quickly, wishing he could keep your scent on his hands.

Your legs are still shaking but you get some beers and soda from the fridge and help Joel set up. Your dad soon comes back down with fresh batteries. "I think we missed the first inning, but that's okay," he replaces the batteries and sits down next to you on the sofa, Joel on your other side. Joel's expression is schooled into neutral politeness as he cracks open a cold one and watches the game. You purposely keep your eyes off him, because honestly if he looks your way you're a goner. The TV generates a soft glow in the relative darkness of the living room.

Sipping your diet soda, you lean against your dad to get comfortable while he explains the rules, even though you've seen a thousand baseball games before. You smile and kiss his cheek as you rest your head on his shoulder, forever his little girl, until someone else comes to take you away. Joel uses his peripheral vision to watch you, comparing your affection for your father with the licentiousness Joel himself has brought out in you.

After feeling Joel's eyes burn a hole through you, you at last give him some attention. "Uncle Joel, who do you think's gonna win? The Rangers or the Red Sox?"

"I'm gonna say the Rangers, sugar. They got a lot of momentum this season, and their batting has been pretty impressive." He takes a sip of his beer, watching you with an appreciative gaze.

"I don't know.. their best pitcher is out for the rest of the season, and they can't hit for shit when they're playing away games." You stick your tongue out at him in a playful ,manner and all he can think of is where he wants that tongue later.

Joel grins at your sharp observation, impressed by your knowledge of the team. "Well damn, darlin'. Sounds like you know your baseball better than I do. I guess we'll just have to see who's right in the end, won't we?"

You chuckle, giving him a flirtatious look as you rise from your seat. "We'll see. Let me get y'all some more beer." You pick up his and your dad's empty beers and take them to the trash.

His eyes don't follow you but his mind is filled with you.. "Damn, she's somethin' else," he mutters.

"You say something?" Ray asks, eyes on the game.

Joel snaps to attention, his heart racing as he realizes he spoke out loud. "Oh, uh.. just sayin' how that third baseman has a hole in his fuckin' glove," he corrects himself.

"They shouldn't have traded for that guy from Detroit. Ridiculous move," Ray shakes his head.

Joel's relieved the conversation is smooth. "Yeah, definitely a tough trade. They really need a consistent lineup."

You return to the living room with ice cold beers. "Here you go, fellas."

Joel's fingers brush against yours a brief moment as you give him his drink. "Thanks, darlin'." His eyes lock with yours before he quickly turns his attention back to the game.

You sit between him and your dad again, pretending to be absorbed in the game. Every now and then your arms or thighs graze one another's. The tension is palpable until, in the semi-darkness of your living room, you place your hand on Joel's thigh, moving upwards to cup his crotch as you innocently turn to your dad to ask him about the game.

Joel clenches his jaw, keeping a vigilant watch on the TV, barely cognizant of the conversation you and your dad are having.

"What's that honey?" your dad asks. "Oh, it's an automatic double when the ball gets hit against the far wall," he explains.

"Hmm, I see.." you continue to caress Joel on the sly, just out of sight of your dad.

Joel shifts in his seat a bit, his face a study in nonchalance. "Yeah, hitting is all about precision and strategy," he chimes in.

"And the bat?" Your caress is bolder, palming his semi-erection while he can't do anything about it. "Does the bat have anything to do with it?"

Joel clears his throat gruffly, soothing the roughness you've created in his voice. "Oh, the bat is absolutely essential.. the right bat can make all the difference in the world.. especially when you've got the right swing." His eyes gleam with unspoken hunger as he holds your gaze, the double entendre obvious.

"Daddy, you played ball with Uncle Joel in high school.. what was his swing like?"

Ray glances up, a nostalgic smile on his face as he recalls the memory. "Oh, your Uncle Joel was a hell of a batter," he grins, shaking his head with admiration. "He had a natural talent for it, a natural sense of timing and coordination. He could knock the ball out of the park with one swing. His whole body would snap into it with this powerful, fluid motion, and you just knew it was gonna be a home run."

"Sounds like nothing's changed," you whisper to Joel, smirking as you watch him writhing under your touch. Taking it up a notch you unbutton his jeans dip your hand inside, finding him growing harder, cock poking through the hole in his boxers. His eyes flutter shut.

You brush your thumb over the tip of his cock and he swallows hard, his features taut with struggling to control himself. "You're toyin' with me, darlin', and you damn well know it," he whispers lightly to you. "Don't make me do somethin' I'll regret in front of your daddy."

"I'll call your bluff." With that, you stroke him faster, turning up the volume with the remote to cover your sounds. Joel's body jerks, his low growl turning into a stifled moan of pleasure. "Damn it, darlin', you're gonna make me lose it," he says through gritted teeth.

"You all right there, man?" Ray asks, eyes glued to the game.

Joel tries to maintain his composure, clearing his throat before answering your dad. "Yeah, I'm fine.. just a lot of excitement in the game," he adds with a strained laugh.

"Shit yeah. This guy scores, the Rangers win." Ray shakes his head and swigs his beer.

Joel takes the opportunity to look down at you, his eyes dark with warning. He shakes his head silently for you to stop teasing before he loses control, but you're having too much fun with this. A slight raise of your brow, your tongue wets your lips and you whisper, "Come for me."

His body tenses at your whispered command, and he does his best to restrain the deep, guttural moan that tries to escape his lips. His hips jerk once against your touch as he spills his release inside his jeans. Luckily, Joel's groans are covered by your dad's shouts of victory as his favorite team wins. Ray leaps from the couch, oblivious to the both of you.

Meanwhile Joel's body is still vibrating with the intensity of his orgasm. He closes his eyes, trying to gather his wits and collect himself before anyone can notice the dampness in his jeans. When he opens his eyes again his gaze lands on you and his stare reads sultry. "You're gonna pay for that, darlin'."

You're shocked at yourself, at what you've caused, but the surge of power is delicious. You remove your hand from his pants and, eyes on him, lick up his cum from your palm. Joel's breath catches in his throat at your bold and suggestive move. He growls softly under his breath, his eyes glued to yours as he silently communicates just how much trouble you're in with him.

"I'm gonna go out and get some more beer," your dad announces, collecting his wallet and keys. "Joel, you okay here? I'm just goin' around the corner."

Joel's in no position to get up without it being evident that's he's come in his pants. "I'm good here," he says mildly, forcing a smile.

"I'll take good care of Uncle Joel," you tell your dad, your smile holding the tiniest bit of mischief. You share a glance with Joel, who for a millisecond looks like he would fuck you on the couch the instant your dad leaves.

"It's no problem, Ray," he assures your dad. "Y'know you can trust me."

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 7A

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: I’ve pretty much wrapped up part 1. Which is why this is pretty long. I’ll be splitting it into its own 2 parts.

Part 2 comes out next week so I’ll be able to finish the series then! There will be much more Pogue story lines then! You’ll hear more about Maybank Readers involvement with the hunt! Hope you’re enjoying so far!

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: angst, smut (brief oral, p in v) Ruthie trigger warning.

You and Rafe are up early, getting ready to head out to the beach. You glance at your phone as you head into the closet to change, seeing a new message from JJ.

JJ - 9:04 AM: “Waves look good today. Grab your board and come join us! Unless you’re too prim and proper for us now.” 🌊

You - 9:06 AM: “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to watch you wipe out every time.” 😇

Meanwhile, Rafe is talking about the offer from Hollis, which has been on your mind too. “Y’know, I might be warming up to what Hollis suggested. It could be a good way for you to get established. Make people take you seriously. This is where you’ve always wanted to be, right?”

Surprised by your support, he glances over. “You think?”

You lean out of the closet, watching him pack your beach bag. “I mean, I’ve got my reservations. I don’t trust anyone who speaks so highly of your dad.” He gives you a look, but you ignore it. “And Sofia pushing you to take it? I mean, what does she know? But maybe it’s worth a shot. I just want you to feel good about whatever you decide.”

You step out, holding your bikini top in one hand, catching him looking at you. Smiling, you gently push his face toward the mirror. “A little help?” You pull your hair out of the way, and he ties the strings in a firm knot behind your neck.

“No matter what you choose, I’m here. But honestly, I’m starting to come around on the idea.”

He grins, his hands settling on your hips. “Feels like this is just landing right in my lap, huh?” He cups your face, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek.

“You could make so much money, Rafe.”

“Well, then I guess I’m about to make so much money.” He leans in, trailing kisses from your lips to your cheeks and down your neck as he pulls you closer, lifting you onto the sink. His fingers press into your hips, and you laugh.

“Making money turns you on this much?” you tease, tilting your head.

He smirks. “Guess it does. Though having you there with me doesn’t help.” He tugs at your bikini bottom, dropping to his knees. “Rafe, we need to leave soon…”

“Just a quick taste,” he murmurs, ignoring the clock.

He laps up the wetness that’s already coating you. Bringing his lips up to your clit and sucking on it. He moved his way back down to your hole and swirls the entrance with his tongue. You love how it feels but you want him inside of you.

You place your palm on his forehead and push his head back. He looks up at you with furrowed brows. “Inside, now… please.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You pull his shirt off of him and he drops his swim trunks to the floor, they pool around his ankles. He undoes the strings of your bottoms, releasing you to the cold air of the bathroom and he pushes up your bikini top.

He runs his hard length through your folds to get it nice and wet and ultimately thrusts into you. You move forward to place your forehead in on. You stare into each other’s eyes. It’s a bit of a strange feeling, you and Rafe completely sober. It’s complete intimacy, neither of you are drunk or high, just looking for a quick fuck with a comfort person. You’re deep in this, you’re both in so much love.

He moves his head down, breaking eye contact, to suck on one of your nipples. One hand traveling to your clit. Rubbing perfect circles on it. Your body arches into him. You moan into his ear and his sends him into overdrive. He’s pounding into you getting you both so close. You grip his shoulders and grind into him meeting his rhythm and clench around him. “That’s it, cum for me, I’m right there too baby.”

His words don’t help and you crash immediately from them. Your legs fall numb and drop from Rafe’s waist so he picks them up and thrusts a couple of more times before he releases into you. You two stay in the same position before Rafe pulls out. He pulls up his swim shorts and walks over to the tub to grab a wash cloth.

He comes back over to you reaching behind you to turn the water on. He smiles at you and you lean into kiss him. You kiss him everywhere, lips, cheeks, neck, chest you don’t want to miss a single spot. Then you just pull him in for a hug. “What are y-?”

“Just hold on a second. I just want to hold you.” He obliges and wraps his arms around your back. You rest your ear in his chest and listen to his heart beat. You’re like that for a few moments when you break. “Can I clean you up now?” You smile and nod and he does just that. Further taking care of you by pulling back down your bikini top and retying your bottoms.

You both stand there for a moment, catching your breath and enjoying the post-coital glow. The water still running, creating a soothing background noise. Rafe gently turns off the water and sets the washcloth aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I think I might like this sober sex thing, especially if it’s with you forever,” he says with a smirk. You giggle and roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

“I think we might be onto something here,” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. The water still flowing, the room still spinning, but this time it’s not from alcohol or drugs – it’s from the pure, unadulterated passion and love that you share with Rafe.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You hop off the sink, quickly smoothing out your hair. Rafe grabs the beach bag, and the two of you head down to the kitchen. V’s face lights up as soon as she sees you both, and she cheers. You scoop her up, and Rafe wraps you both in a hug.

Since hiring Elaina as V’s full-time nanny, things have been easier. She’s from the island, Topper’s cousin, though from a more middle class background, working hard at her studies in business while juggling this job. It’s ideal for her, and it’s a relief to have someone you trust with V.

You invited Elaina to come to the beach, but she declined. Just then, Rafe gets a text from Topper. “Alright, we have to head out. Your annoying cousin keeps blowing up my phone. Gotta get there before he does.” You both say goodbye, giving V a quick kiss before telling Elaina to text if she needs anything.

Once you’re in Rafe’s convertible, he passes you the beach bag and jogs over to grab your surfboard. Surfing has been part of your life for as long as you can remember, ever since you and JJ started daydreaming about riding waves far enough to leave everything behind. Most importantly leaving Luke behind.

The drive to the beach is calm and bright, Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh while yours settles on his hand. When you arrive, you spot Topper, Kelce, and Ruthie waiting. After the drama from the other night, you only greet Kelce, deciding Ruthie can deal with being ignored for now. Topper, caught in the middle, gets no special treatment either.

Ruthie’s the first to break the silence. “Hey, Rafe and Y/N. What’s up?”

Rafe breathes out a quick “nothing,” while you offer her a flat, uninterested smile, rounding Topper’s Jeep to get in.

As you head to the sand, you spot the Twinkie nearby and wave to JJ and the rest of the crew. The kooks have parked a bit close, not you or them are thrilled about it. You and Rafe settle down near the water, where he sips a beer, his hand moving gently along your leg as you both take in the scene.

JJ, Kie, and Sarah are already in the water, with JJ teaching Sarah how to surf. She catches on quickly, and you watch them, smiling. You steal a glance at Rafe, trying to read his expression, but he’s a mystery.

When Sarah steps out of the water, you turn to him. “Want to go talk to her?”

He shifts, but shrugs it off. “She can come to me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know that’s not how this is going to work, Rafe.”

He starts to argue, but JJ interrupts. “Yo, sis, you riding or what?”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” You hop up, handing your cover-up to Rafe, who gives you a lingering look. Licking his lips as he looks up and down your body.

“Can you be serious for a moment?” you say, exasperated. “I’ll be the first person to help you here Rafe. But you’re not gonna get anything from her. You have to give it your all, that’s the only way it’s gonna work. You caused the damage you have to fix it.”

Leaving him to think, you grab your board and jog over to JJ. He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What’s up with baby daddy? Got another stick up his ass?”

“He’s actually been great, J. Leave it alone,” you snap, cutting off JJ before he can say more. With that, you both rush into the water, ready to surf. The waves carry you effortlessly, and for a while, it’s peaceful, even with Topper and Kelce joining in. But it doesn’t last—JJ blows a wave, causing Topper to wipe out.

“Well, so much for a peaceful day,” Kie mutters under her breath as Topper storms out of the water, Kelce right behind him. You spot Ruthie on the shore, her eyes glued to the scene, already gearing up for her next bout of drama.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

The rest of the afternoon is spent with your family of Pogues, their laughter and banter offering a break from the tension that always lingers when you’re around Rafe’s dry, humorless crowd. It’s freeing, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about the other world—the Kooks and their incessant games.

The day flies by, and soon enough, you’re sitting in a circle with everyone when Kie’s voice rings out. “Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”

Your eyes widen with excitement. “Oh my god! I’ve lived here my whole life and never seen one!” You jump to your feet, helping Kie clear a path for the tiny hatchlings.

The group gathers around, marveling as the baby turtles make their way to the water. You reach for your phone, wanting to capture the moment to show Vivienne later, when the sound of an engine revving cuts through the peace. Your head snaps up just in time to see Topper’s Jeep hurtling toward you.

Heart pounding, you grab Sarah and John B, pulling them out of the way as Kie stands firm, waving her arms to try and stop them. But Ruthie, wild-eyed and relentless, aims straight for her. JJ dives in at the last second, yanking Kie out of the Jeep’s path as it roars by.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?!” you shout, the panic morphing into fury as Ruthie speeds through the turtle hatch, sending sand and broken shells flying. She throws a drink at Kie, drenching her in alcohol before heading back to the cluster of Kooks, who cheer her on.

Kie, now soaked and furious, picks up a lifeless hatchling and starts walking toward the group. Your eyes find Rafe’s, watching his expression as he stands surrounded by his friends, unmoving. Then you look at JJ, who gives you a nod, and together you follow behind Kie.

The anger you’d felt toward Topper and Ruthie since the last confrontation fuels your steps. The sting of betrayal simmers as you realize that Rafe, the man who claims to love you and your daughter, is once again silent when it matters most. He can do it in private but not when there’s too many Kooks around.

Kie’s voice cuts through your haze. “Look at what you did!” She screams at them, but you barely hear the exchange. Your vision tunnels, zeroing in on Ruthie’s smug face and Rafe’s indifferent stance.

Ruthie spits out a threat about being filmed, and without thinking, you snap. “Fuck you, Ruthie,” you hiss, stepping between her and Kie. Topper raises a hand to stop you, but you shove it off your shoulder.

“And fuck you too, you cowardly lap dog.” He blinks, momentarily stunned. “What?”

“You’re pussy, Top. Always hiding behind your girlfriend, letting her pull your strings. It’s embarrassing,” you seethe. He doesn’t say anything, not shocking.

Ruthie throws out another taunt you barely register. Your fists clench, itching to make her regret ever crossing you. But the thought of your daughter flashes in your mind—a reminder of why you can’t afford an assault charge.

You take a breath, forcing your hands down and stepping back. “There is seriously something wrong with you people,” Kie shouts, her voice trembling with rage. You exchange another look with Rafe, one filled with disappointment and disbelief. JJ issues a final warning, promising consequences if they ever come at the Pogues again.

“JJ, let’s go,” you command, your voice tight. You start to lead Kie away when Rafe’s voice, low and almost apologetic, cuts through the chaos. “Yeah, I saw that,” he mutters, siding with Ruthie.

Blood surges hot in your veins at his words as you push over the large speaker Kelce had set up earlier, the crash punctuating your fury. You flip Topper off as he shouts after you, but you’re already walking away, your pulse thrumming with betrayal and rage.

Walking back, you keep Kie close, rubbing her upper arm in an attempt to soothe her. “When you get home, you should hold a little funeral for him,” you suggest softly.

She wipes her eyes, a faint smile breaking through the tears. “That’s a good idea.”

At the Twinkie, you help Kie climb in and press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, Kie.” She nods silently, eyes fixed on the lifeless turtle cradled in her hands.

With a heavy heart, you move to help pack up the rest of their things, casting a glance at Sarah. She meets your eyes, sympathy etched across her face. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “She’ll be alright.” You step forward, sharing a strong, silent hug, then turn away, bracing yourself for the walk back to the group that now feels so foreign.

As you pass through the cluster of Kooks, you ignore their smirks and jeers, stuffing your belongings into your bag. Rafe steps up, his expression unreadable. “Not cool, Rafe,” you say firmly.

“They deserved it,” he counters, eyes searching yours for understanding.

“I want to leave. Now.” You sling your surfboard under your arm and march off toward the car, determined not to get back in Topper’s Jeep, no matter how far Rafe’s is parked.

Rafe rushes after you, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins pushes you forward faster than you thought possible. You reach the car before he does, rattling the door handle impatiently. When he finally arrives, you snap, “Open it.” He unlocks the door, grabbing your board before you can stow it yourself.

“Maybank, stop it. You’re really going to give me shit over what Ruthie did?” he protests.

You shake your head, a bitter laugh slipping out. “No, I’m giving you shit about your ego. You care so much about what those people think that you can’t say a word, even when you know it was wrong. If the roles were reversed…” He turns away, heading to the driver’s side, but you reach out, grabbing his wrist to pull him back.

“I’m not done.” Your eyes lock with his, demanding his attention. “If that happened to you, do you think any of them would care? Do you think they’d protect you like JJ did Kie? They wouldn’t, Rafe, because you don’t actually care about each other. You only get mad when it makes the Kooks look bad. That’s not real loyalty.”

You take a breath before continuing, your voice steady and resolute. “We might be ‘scum from the Cut,’ but we’re a family. We stand up for each other, no matter what. Something your so-called friends could never understand. You want to be better for V, for me, even for Sarah? Then get the fuck over yourself.”

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, sliding into the car without another word. The drive home is silent, the tension palpable, a stark contrast to the calm of the morning.

When you arrive home, you grab your bag and rush inside. Elaina is feeding V her dinner, and the moment you see your daughter, warmth floods you. “Hi, baby!” you coo, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. V laughs, her giggle a balm to your frayed nerves.

“Hi, mama!” she chirps, eyes sparkling.

You turn to Elaina. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You can head out after that—I’m not going anywhere tonight.” Passing Rafe as he enters the kitchen, you don’t spare him a glance, making sure to lock the bedroom and bathroom doors behind you.

Under the hot stream of water, the tension in your body starts to dissolve. You stay there longer than intended, letting the day wash off you. A sharp knock on the bedroom door snaps you back. Rafe’s muffled voice follows. “Come on, Y/N, open up.”

You dry off at a leisurely pace, slipping into pajamas and combing through your damp hair. The knock grows more insistent, but you take your time applying moisturizer, savoring the rare moment of peace. Finally, you unlock the door.

“Finally,” Rafe mutters, frustration lacing his voice. “Dramatic much?” His tone grates on your nerves, but you stay silent, walking past him without a word. He calls out, “Really?” but you don’t turn back.

Sitting at the table with V, you pick at reheated leftovers as she babbles between bites. Another things Kooks don’t have a grasp on. Practically had to force Rafe to not to throw these leftovers out.

Rafe joins you, reaching out across the table. You glance at his hand but don’t take it. He sighs, retreating as you show V the videos of the baby turtles, willing away the memory of the broken shell in Kie’s hands.

“V, do you know how pretty you are? You get that from your mama,” Rafe says softly. The sweetness in his tone almost cracks your resolve, but you hold firm, in the back of your mind you like the effect you have on him. You get up clearing the dishes and pressing a kiss to V’s head she giggles at your touch.

You set a plate of food in front of Rafe, who looks up, surprised. “I ordered something to be delivered.” You clench down on your teeth and you go to pull the food away but he grabs your hands and stops you. “I’ll have this, I can save that food for tomorrow.”

He’s gonna save his food? It’s getting really hard to not be mad at him. He tries so hard with you. Why can’t he do it for others?

You set it back down again. Grabbing V to give her a bath. You rest your hand in his shoulder and you walk past him. The nighttime routine is mercifully smooth, and soon V is asleep. You’re curled up in bed with a book when Rafe enters, sitting at your feet.

Tbc in Part 7B

Taglist:

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[st6rrrs]

BARELY MAKING IT BY - YN X RAFE CAMERON

SUMMARY: the pogues lock rafe in the bathroom of the boat

WARNINGS: cursing, violence

You and Rafe had a past, an amazing one. But after his dad died, everything changed.

He broke up with you and he was convinced that you and your friends were responsible for his father's death in South America. It wasn’t true not even close. But he didn’t care.

Rafe hated the Pogues but somehow he hated you the most. That was the part you could never understand. You had loved each other before all of this… before everything fell apart.

And yet seeing him with Sofia at the biker race and later on the beach still hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Has he really moved on that quickly? you wondered.

You pretended not to care when JJ asked if you were okay, brushing it off like it was nothing. But everyone could see right through you.

At some point your sadness turned into anger. Then surprisingly into something softer empathy.

His dad had just died. No matter how complicated their relationship was losing a parent wasn’t something you just moved on from overnight.

But the real shock came when Rafe helped you JJ and the others avoid getting arrested for a murder JJ didn’t commit.

Of course JJ had to ruin it.

He knocked Rafe unconscious, tied him up, and locked him in the bathroom of the boat the same boat Rafe had helped you all get on.

And now here you were making him a sandwich because, let’s be honest no one else was going to.

As you made your way toward the bathroom kiara stopped you.

"Y/N… what are you doing?" she asked her eyes flickering down to the tray in your hands, a sandwich, a cup of water, and aspirin.

"I'm giving this to Rafe?"

Kiara’s face twisted in disbelief. "We can’t waste food, Y/N."

You sighed in frustration. "He's gonna starve, Kiara."

She groaned knowing there was no point in arguing. "Fine. Just don’t let him out… I’m serious."

"Okay, okay! I won’t" you promised pushing past her and heading toward the small, dimly lit hallway.

Stopping at the bathroom door you took a deep breath bracing yourself for whatever attitude Rafe had in store.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside.

There he was wrists tied to the sink and the rope digging into his skin.

It looked painful.

God, I hate seeing him like this.

You avoided his gaze but you could feel him staring straight through you as you kneeled to place the tray at his feet.

"Great" he muttered as you stood back up. "Just like I said no good deed goes unpunished."

"I'm sorry Rafe" you said softly. "I… I really am. I brought you some aspirin too if you need it."

"Aspirin?" He let out a dry laugh. "Oh what? Are you gonna toss it into my mouth like a trained seal?"

You frowned.

"I'm just trying to help Rafe. But no one trusts you."

That made him snap his head toward you... his blue eyes burning with frustration.

"I was trying to help!" he shouted making you flinch.

"I-I know Rafe! But this wasn’t my decision."

And it wasn’t.

"They’ll let you out when we get there, but right now, no one trusts you."

His jaw clenched. Then—

"Fuck you, bitch!"

He kicked the tray in your direction, sending the food and water spilling across the floor.

You barely had time to shut and lock the door before he started yelling again.

"You don’t trust me, huh?"

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as you crouched down trying to clean up the mess.

"My dad died because of you and my stupid sister! You wanna talk about trust?"

Ouch.

You winced as you heard him thrashing inside, kicking whatever he could.

You couldn’t do this. Not anymore.

Leaving the spilled food where it was.. you bolted out of the hallway heading straight for the deck.

You didn’t stop until you reached the railing sucking in the cool ocean air.

"Hey," Sarah’s voice came from beside you. You turned to see her watching you carefully. "Are you okay?"

You quickly wiped at your face, nodding. "Yeah… I just needed some fresh air."

Sarah hesitated. "Was it Rafe? You can talk to m—"

Before she could finish you turned and walked away, locking yourself in one of the boat’s tiny rooms.

Curling up on the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Maybe if you slept long enough you’d wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened.

You were abruptly jolted awake by Cleo shaking you...hard.

"Hey! Wake up!" she urged, her voice urgent.

Blinking rapidly, you sat up, dazed and disoriented. The boat was swaying aggressively beneath you making your stomach churn.

"What’s happening?" you mumbled rubbing your eyes.

"Shit is going down," Cleo said before darting out of the room leaving you utterly confused.

You scrambled out of bed gripping the walls for balance as you stumbled into the dimly lit hallway.

The entire boat rocked violently, causing cabinets to rattle and loose items to crash onto the floor.

Your heart pounded as you spotted JJ leaning against a wall, swaying slightly clearly drunk.

"JJ! What the hell is going on?" you yelled over the sound of the storm raging outside.

He just shrugged lazily taking another sip from a bottle in his hand.

"No clue," he slurred.

You groaned in frustration. "Thanks a lot asshole."

Ignoring him you hurried toward the kitchen where Sarah and Cleo were frantically moving around, stuffing supplies into baskets.

"Oh, thank God!" Sarah gasped when she saw you. "Y/N help us! We need to secure everything before it gets worse!"

She shoved a basket into your hands as the boat lurched again nearly sending you stumbling backward.

Your pulse spiked as you glanced toward the small porthole window sheets of rain hammered against the glass and beyond it...the ocean churned violently under the dark sky.

"How bad is it?" you asked breathless.

"Bad." Cleo muttered fastening a cabinet shut. "Real bad."

Lightning flashed outside illuminating the room for a split second before darkness swallowed it again.

You swallowed hard gripping the basket tighter.

Something told you this night was about to get a whole lot worse.

After helping Sarah and Cleo secure everything in the kitchen, you rushed to check on John B.

"Holy shit!" you gasped as you caught sight of the monstrous waves crashing outside the window.

John B barely spared you a glance, his knuckles white as he struggled to steer the boat.

"Y/N! What are you doing here? Check on Sarah!" he shouted over the roaring wind.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay!" you called back gripping the doorway to keep yourself steady.

"Thank you now go!"

You turned trying to make your way back to the kitchen but the boat lurched violently sending you stumbling forward.

It was pitch black and the storm outside raged louder than ever. You wiped at your face as water dripped from above seeping through the cracks of the boat.

"There you are!" Pope’s voice cut through the chaos as he grabbed your arm dragging you back into the kitchen where everyone was holding onto something for dear life.

"This storm is crazy, man!" Cleo shouted bracing herself against the counter.

Something felt off. Like you were forgetting something.

You ran a shaky hand over your head to block the water from your eyes barely able to see.

"Hold on to something!" Kiara warned gripping your hands to keep you steady.

Then—

"Hey!"

A voice rang out from down the hall.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

"Y/N! Cut me loose, come on!"

Rafe!

Everyone turned to you watching as you hesitated.

"No! No!" Cleo shouted. "Do not let him out!"

Your heart pounded in your chest.

"But he’s gonna drown!" you argued pushing yourself up. Ignoring their protests

you snatched a knife from the counter and made your way toward the bathroom, gripping the walls for support as Rafe’s desperate yells grew louder.

"Y/N, come on PLEASE!"

"I'm coming!" you shouted back.

Just as you reached for the door handle the boat rocked violently throwing losing your balance. Your foot twisted the wrong way and you collapsed onto the hard floor with a sharp cry.

"Fuck!"

Pain shot through your ankle like fire but there was no time to stop.

If you didn’t get him out now or he wouldn’t make it.

With gritted teeth you pushed the door open from the ground, ignoring the throbbing pain as you crawled inside. Rafe's face twisted with concern.

"Shit are you okay?"

You didn’t answer Instead you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming as you sawed through the rope. The moment his restraints fell loose, he shot up.

"Okay, come here."

Before you could protest he crouched down pulling you up and slinging your arm over his shoulder.

You limped back toward the kitchen together, the storm’s wrath shaking the boat with every step.

But the second you stepped inside, your stomach dropped.

Sarah was gone.

"Where the hell is Sarah?" Panic filled your voice as you scanned the room.

"She went to look for John B," Pope answered.

"You guys just let her go?!" Rafe snapped, his expression dark.

Then—

"JJ! No, no, no!"

John B’s voice rang out from outside, raw with terror.

Your blood ran cold.

Shoving away from Rafe, you ignored the sharp pain in your ankle and limped toward the deck your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

"Y/N, come back!" Rafe yelled after you but you didn’t stop.

The second you stepped outside freezing rain pelted your skin. Wind howled around you and the boat rocked like a toy against the monstrous waves.

John B stood at the railing gripping it so tightly his knuckles were nearly blue. His chest rose and fell in frantic uneven breaths.

"John B!" you shouted shielding your face from the storm. "Where’s Sarah? Where’s JJ?!"

He didn’t answer.

He just turned to you, eyes glassy, face pale.

Then without a word he pulled you into a desperate hug.

You stiffened confusion and dread flooding through you.

"What happened?!" Your voice cracked. "Where’s my brother?!"

Still he said nothing.

Just silent, gut-wrenching sobs.

Then—

"SARAH!"

Rafe’s voice cut through the storm like a knife.

Kiara rushed onto the deck her own scream joining his. "JJ! No, no, no!"

You stood frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Your soaked clothes clung to your skin. Your leg ached. You were exhausted.

And now—

JJ and Sarah were gone.

[icyg4l]

Who Wants to Kiss You Under the Mistletoe? ❄️🎄

Hello beautiful people! It’s been a long time since we’ve gathered together. But I am back and better, coming to you all with a collab with the beautiful @icanseethefuture333! I hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful and safe holiday season. Without further ado, please select the Destiny’s Child/Beyoncé Christmas photo that resonates with you to find out who wants to kiss you under the mistletoe :)

Pile One: You have someone from the past missing you, Pile One. I get this energy of a regretful lover who wishes to start over with you. They regret not paying as much attention to you as they should have when they were in your life. They would like to make it right. Someone here is a nursing student or could be working as a medical assistant. This plays a part into why things did not work out; busy schedules can lead to resentment down the line. I heard “you got it all wrong, dear” as I was channeling messages. It feels like you could have misconstrued this person’s intentions as childish when they weren’t. You’re tired of the games, but there weren’t any played to begin with. They just couldn’t multitask and decided to let you go. Practice patience, kindness and compassion with your next lover. They will need it. But just for future reference, keep your love connections light and upbeat. It will save your heart from serious damage.

Tarot Cards Used: The Emperor, Wheel of Fortune, Princess of Wands, 2 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Express Your Love - Go ahead and make the romantic gesture.

Flirt - Extend your lighthearted energy to others.

Stay Optimistic About Your Love Life - Positive thinking and faith will bring you romance.

extras: baked bread. finished clinicals. America. Philippines. feeling drained. Looking for partnership.

Bonus Songs: Hold Tight by Justin Bieber. Let it Go by Elsa. Pick up the phone by travis scott, young thug and migos.

Pile Two: You know exactly who this person is! You and this person have similar music tastes, probably are both into niche artists or deep cuts of popular artists. This person likes to send you cute subliminals on social media, such as posting a song dedicated to you using the note feature on Instagram. This person is very aggressive in their approach. You keep resisting this connection, but you shouldn’t! Is this person not your type? Are you scared because they have children? Are you an ashamed single parent? Are you a bored college student that needs excitement in your life? Well, just know that this is your person, and you can ask for all the signs in the world but this will end up being your lover. It is possible that you two could be in a long distance situation, however, this is not stopping your person from showing up as their best selves. If given the chance to kiss them under the mistletoe, just do it! What the hell? What could go wrong?

Tarot Cards Used: Queen of Swords, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, King of Cups.

Oracle Cards Used:

Keep an Open Mind - Your soul mate may differ from your usual type and expectations.

Children - Your love life is being affected by children.

This Could Be the One: You’ve already met the romantic partner you seek.

extras: joy. georgia. SJW. emeli sande. letting it unfold. global peace prize. traumatic past.

Bonus Songs: My Love by Justin Timberlake. Feeling Myself by Beyonce. Let Me Love You by Mario.

Pile Three: Pile Three, your person hasn’t been shy about their advances at all. This is someone who finds themself to be incredibly attractive. They could be big on partying. They’re kind of intimidating (to you). But there’s no need to be scared, love. Get out of your head and get in the field. You are not out of this person’s league. You’re simply a human being with feelings that need to be expressed. Trust, the feeling is mutual. When this eventually happens, you two could be planning on watching a movie and there will be tension between the two of you. It’s also possible that this kiss could happen in front of other people. I saw a bowl of popcorn in my third eye. This could lead to other acts, if you catch my drift. You’re a hard worker, but you deserve to experience love. There is nothing wrong with taking a break and just allowing yourself to bask in the presence of someone who makes you feel free! This person does not care about your baggage, they only care about spending time with you. So go with the flow, you control freak!

Tarot Cards Used: Strength, The Hierophant, Queen of Wands, 4 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Finances and Career - Financial issues are a factor in your love life right now.

Very Soon - Clearly decide what you want so that it comes to you now!

You Deserve Love - You are lovable!

extras: sunburnt. 11th house placements. drinking. raybans. “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”

Bonus Songs: Out of My League by Fitz and the Tantrums. First Position by Kehlani.

Pile Four: As I was shuffling, I heard the word, “observant”. This person could be watching you from a distance. There is a strong connection to the Atlanta area here. You or this person could be from there. You could be visiting and vice versa. There is something about this person that brings out the girly teengirl in you, lol. This person makes you feel really giggly. This person has beautiful eyes that captivate you. They have a detached, suave demeanor to them. It seems as though they’re not real. They seem to have a level of stability in your life that you do not have, and this draws you to them. They seem to be the “perfect package” for you. As for whether or not you should kiss them, you should wait. There should be some type of buildup between the two of you. There will be some type of waiting period, of which you will endure. There could be some type of interruption (maybe a couple honestly), but the kiss will be worth it.

Tarot Cards Used: 9 of Discs. King of Cups. 8 of Cups. The Hierophant.

Oracle Cards Used:

Playfulness - To recapture romance, allow your inner youthful spirit of fun to shine!

Healing Family Issues - Your love life benefits as you forgive your parents.

Attraction - You attract romantic love by enjoying this moment fully.

extras: traveling to/from atlanta. it’s the journey. children of the corn (1984). the perfect holiday (2007). jayson tatum.

Bonus Songs: Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah. Haters by OMG Girlz. Crush by Mulatto. Check it Out by william. Fantasy by Mariah Carey. Goosebumps by Travis Scott.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Can I Take Your Order?

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky pays you a surprise visit.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your work isn’t hard per se, but it can be chaotic. Still, your tips more than make up for all the running around, but not necessarily the ridiculous attire. You’re not entirely unhappy, it’s exciting even if it can be stressful. 

The diners always keep you on your feet. Literally. You run around, table to table, that night dressed as the infamous Dorothy who’s too far from Kansas. Somewhere around their, a lion, scarecrow, and tinman are taking orders and entertaining children at their seats. 

The themed restaurant isn’t really the place you would go, but it’s a family-friendly venue in a city overcrowded with more adult attractions. The money keeps a roof over your head. You won’t complain for that. 

The Oz room is overflowing and you can see more customers in the lobby. Please send them over to Mary Poppins’ Pop-In. You don’t have time to dread the new wave of diners as you bring a tray of desserts to a table with three blustering toddlers. You could never. 

“Anything else?” You ask as you put out the stemmed cups of banana pudding pie. 

“The check--” the father demands before he’s hit in the face with a stray straw. He grits back his agitation and forces a smile, “thanks.” 

You pick up the straw and leave him. As you do, you pass Graham, that night’s scarecrow. He lowers his voice as he follows you to the till. 

“Can you get the next table, please? I’m dying for a smoke. Any longer and I’m going to smack one of these brats,” he mutters. 

You smile at him. You find the nights go by quicker without breaks. “No problem! On it. I just need to get this bill printed out.” 

You toss the straw and tap the till. You pull up that table and print it out, tucking it into one of the little folders. You grab a handful of hard candies and sweep back across the dining room. 

“Here ya are, enjoy your desserts,” you say and carry on. 

You peer around, searching for the new diners. Right there in the corner. You head over in your pig-tailed wig and red shoes. As you near, your chest flickers. You think you know the back of that head. No, it’s not. He wouldn’t be here... 

You’re all but assured of your suspicions by the golden hair of the man across from him. A third to round out party. You cringe before you muster a smile and come to the side of the table. 

“Welcome to the Land of Oz,” you recite your mandatory introduction and avoid looking at Bucky, “don’t stray too far or you might find a wicked witch or flying monkey to carry you off. May I start you with some drinks?” 

“You got cocktails at a joint like this?” Bucky scoffs. 

You refuse to look at him, “the menu’s right there.” You point beside the centerpiece. He chuckles. 

“This is cute, how’d you find this place, Buck?” The blond asks. The man better known as Captain America. 

“Hmm, this place would be fun to you two geriatrics,” their other companion says. That’s the Falcon. 

You can feel Bucky watching you. He’s smirking. You know it. At least when you see him, you only ever have your stupid dress on. You take the wig and makeup off before you go home. It attracts less weirdos. 

“So, we do have beer, despite what you might think,” you offer. 

“Got prune juice? These two need it--” Falcon, rather Sam Wilson, chortles and receives an elbow to the ribs. 

“We have cranberry,” you suggest. 

“Where’s Toto?” Bucky asks. 

You hold back as sigh and finally meet his eyes, “no dogs allowed.” 

“Damn, sounds like you should go then, eh, Buck,” Sam adds. You grin as he cackles. 

“Hey,” Bucky sneers. “Just water for me.” 

“No milk to keep your bones strong?” The Captain, or Steve, kids. 

“You’re a year younger, shut up,” Bucky huffs. 

“I’ll get a water too,” Steve smirks. 

“Get me a Miller,” Sam says, “please.” 

“No problem. I’ll be back with that and some menus.” 

You spin and strut away. It feels good to see him getting teased because you know he only came here to mock you. You can’t exactly follow him to his work and make fun of his arm. Not that you would. 

You get the water and beer and return to the table with menus under your arm. You hand them all out and give them some time to look over it. You check in with your other tables before you go back again. 

“So, have we made up our minds?” You smile. 

Steve smiles at you, “uh, can I ask what kinda fish it is?” 

“Cod, sir,” you answer as you lean in to see where he points on the menu. 

“Ah, thanks.” 

“You got any recommendations?” Sam asks. 

“I usually go straight to dessert,” you smile, “but the spaghetti is yummy. And you can get it spicy.” 

“Oh, you like it spicy?” Bucky snickers. 

You look at him and Steve clears his throat, “Buck.” 

“Yikes, dude. You got lines, huh?” Sam teases. 

“No, I just--” he gets flustered and rolls his eyes. “Can I have the cheeseburger and fries?” 

“Sure thing,” you take out your notepad. 

“I’ll have the fish and chips,” Steve says, “is it possible to add an extra filet?” 

“Yeppers,” you nod and jot it down. 

“Think I’ll get the meatball sandwich,” Sam says, “apparently, I like meatballs.” 

Steve scowls again and Bucky sighs. You tap your pen on the pad, “alrighty. I’ll go put your order in.” 

“Thanks, doll.” Sam winks at you. 

You smile and as you turn, you hear Bucky hiss, “doll? Since when do you call anyone doll?” 

You make a face but don’t pay much mind to their arguing. He did mention his other friends could be a bit much. Based on that interaction, you’d say he’s just as bad. 

You put the ticket in the window and turn back. As you go back to the family to get the bill and your tip, your eyes snag on Bucky. He cranes around to see you and waves at you with two fingers. Oh, you have to get him back for this. 

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

He’s Just Not Into You » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader with Sharon Carter

Summary: Steve isn’t into Sharon, but he’s in Y/N.

Warnings: Fluff, implied Smut (18+), language, flirting, kissing, pet names (sweetheart)

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

You walk in the conference room of the Avengers Compound, smiling when you seen Steve. He wasn’t alone. Sharon Carter was also there. She was shamelessly flirting with him like she always does. You leaned against the doorframe and decided to watch for a moment.

“We should hangout sometime.” Sharon says in a flirty tone, rubbing her fingers along his bicep.

“Does this count as hanging out?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

She let out a laugh and grasped his bicep. Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what’s funny. You sighed and decided to step in and help him out. You walked over to him and took a seat on his lap, wrapping one of your arms around his shoulders.

“I was wondering where you were, Stevie. Are we still going out for lunch?” You asked, playing with his hair.

“Excuse me!” Sharon practically squeals. “Him and I were in the middle of a conversation!” She says.

You rolled your eyes and shrugged your shoulders, completely ignoring her.

“If we have to reschedule our lunch date, I completely understand.” You say with a playful pout.

“Date?” Sharon asks.

“Date, meaning where two people who like each other go out and have a good time.” You explained.

“I know what it means!” She says.

“You asked.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

You turned your attention back to Steve, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Are you canceling on me, Stevie?” You asked with a pout.

“No, of course not, sweetheart!” Steve starts. “Let me finish up here and I’ll come find you.” He says.

You smiled and kissed his cheek before getting off of his lap.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Captain.” You say with a flirty wink before walking out of the conference room.

Sharon scoffed and crossed her arms. You waited for Steve in the lounge room. Steve kept his word and didn’t keep you waiting and found you in the lounge room.

“You ready to go?” Steve asks.

“Yes I am.” You smiled. “One more thing before we go.” You say, cupping his cheeks and kissed him hungrily, catching Steve by surprise.

Steve’s hands found their place on your waist and pulled you against his body. Your hands found their way to his hair and gave it a tug, making him groan a little.

“Alright, let’s go.” You say with a grin.

Steve held his hand out for you to take which you happily did.

“Steve!” You two heard Sharon’s voice from behind you guys.

You two turned around to see Sharon walking up to you guys.

“How come you’ll go out with her and not me?” Sharon asks, almost whining.

“It’s simple, Sharon. He’s just not into you.” You tell her.

“I don’t believe you.” She says, crossing her arms.

“It’s true.” Steve speaks up. “I like her.” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist, making you smile.

“I- whatever!” She says with a scoff, turning around and walked away.

You giggled and waved as she walked away. Steve sneakily slid his hand down your side, finding its way to your ass and gave it a squeeze causing you to gasp and look up at him to see a smirk plastered on his face.

“Getting a little too handsy there, aren’t you, Captain?” You say.

Steve turned you to face him, pulling your body against his. He leaned down and kissed you hungrily. You moaned into the kiss.

“I’m hungry for something else.” Steve says in almost a whisper.

“Oh yea?” You say, biting your lower lip.

“How about we take this to my room?” He suggests.

“Lead the way, Captain.” You say seductively, looking into his blue eyes that are now clouded with lust.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[sansaorgana]

Ok but Buck getting jealous or riled up from a British Air Force trying to get at his gal 👀

EDIT: I've just realized I totally misread this and didn't notice it's about BRITISH Air Force sdfghjkl; I hope you forgive me 🤣 I'm an idiot, I swear to God. feel free to send it again so I'll write another one!!!

hi, babe 🧸 thank you for your request 💗 Buck and reader are in America while this short fic takes place. let's say he got a few weeks off to spend at home 🏡

i currently have 2 more requests in my inbox but i was busy watching the bear today and now i have a slight migraine so i'll deal with them tomorrow, sorry xx

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

"What are you thinking of, doll?" his deep voice made you look up and blink a few times like you couldn't believe that he was there; back in your arms, so close and so warm. You were slow dancing together with Buck for the past half an hour but you couldn't focus on the moment even though you knew you should. He wasn't back for good. Not yet.

"You've only a few missions left," you bit on your lower lip and he chuckled before leaning in to look deep into your eyes.

"Aw, don't think 'bout it, babe. I left it behind for a few weeks, yes?" he pecked your lips and you tried to smile. "Come on, why the long face?"

"I'm sorry," you sniffled back the tears forming in the corners of your eyes and shook your head.

"Makes me think you're not happy to see me back in town," he teased and spun you around gently before pressing you close to him again. "What? Won't be able to see a loverboy for a while?"

"Don't be stupid, Buck. There ain't no loverboy but you," you chuckled finally and pushed him softly.

"There better not be 'cause I'd have to fix his face right."

"Sure thing, big man," you gave him a wide smile and cupped his face to caress his cheeks. You loved seeing your hands on him. You especially loved seeing your engagment ring on your finger. "You look so handsome in that suit, Cleven."

"That's Major Cleven for you, big mouth," he winked at you and you pulled a face to make him laugh.

"Fetch me something to drink, will you, Major Cleven?" you leaned in to kiss his cheek and asked. "All that dancing made me thirsty."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded and walked you back to the table that had been occupied by you two before. He grabbed his cap to put it back on his head and approached the bar.

In the meantime, you opened your purse and tried to find a compact mirror with the powder to fix your shining nose and forehead. You didn't notice that some man stood above you. When you were done with your looks, you closed the mirror with a loud pop sound and you almost jumped in your seat at the sound of a tall dark-haired guy that kept staring at you.

"Excuse me?" you asked and looked him up and down. He was wearing a suit like your Buck but he was no Major.

"Um, I'm sorry, I've just noticed a beautiful girl sitting here all by herself and… I thought that, well, uh, I'mma fix that, perhaps…?" he took his cap off and squeezed it nervously with one of his hands as his other one went behind his head to scratch it awkwardly.

"And you are…?" you tried not to laugh at him. He was kind of adorable in that.

"Um… Sergeant… Sergeant Tommy Smith, miss," he introduced himself.

"Sergeant?" you raised an eyebrow. "Have you been to Europe already?"

"No, miss, no, I… I am going soon… It's my last few weeks before I go," he explained and you could see sweat forming upon his forehead. "Can I… Can I perhaps sit down?" he proposed, probably not realizing how bold it was. But he looked like he was about to faint any given moment.

"Sure thing, honey," you moved a little to give him a spot next to you but you tried to find Buck amongst the crowd. You couldn't see him, though, which was no surprise because the place was full of people – airmen, soldiers and their sweethearts... or girls hoping to become sweethearts soon.

"You're so… So kind, miss," Tommy nodded his head at you as he sat next to you. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"Who said I was alone?" you smiled at him and he blushed. "Oh, don't worry, he's not the beating up kind, my man."

Tommy seemed to sigh with relief but then his eyes widened at the sight of someone standing behind you.

"Is… Is that him?"

"Oh, honey, he's not scary at all, my man, he's…" you started with a chuckle but then you turned around and you saw the man that Tommy had been referring to.

It wasn't Buck. He was huge, enormous even. You've never seen an uniform so tight on the muscles like that. And he was tall as well. Wearing sunglasses inside at night type of guy. He was handsome, oh yes, he was. But he had this aura around him as if he had thought that the whole wolrd revolved around him. He was also an airman and he was chewing gum arrogantly.

"Is that kid bothering you, love?" he asked.

"Um… No," you shook your head and tried to find Buck desperately with your eyes but there was still no sight of him. "Not at all," you added.

"I'll g-go now…" Tommy stood up to leave quietly.

"No, don't leave me…" you tried to plead in a whisper but he put his cap back on and disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

So, now you were left with the big guy.

"Finally. These new ones are like pests," he sighed and sat next to you without asking for permission.

"Excuse me…?" you squealed but he only laughed and took his sunglasses off to take a better look at you.

"Why so scared, gorgeous?" he grinned showing off a set of pearly white teeth.

"Care to at least give me your name?" you asked, trying to move as far away as possible while staying discreet.

"Let's say you're about to find out later that night when you're gonna scream it, sugar," he winked at you and you almost gagged.

"Oh, I do believe I already have a name to scream," you stated, deciding that perhaps being as vulgar as him would make him finally get the message. But that was not the case.

"That guy's?" he laughed. "That kid's?"

"No," you shook your head and looked around but Buck wasn't coming.

"Something tells me you're bluffing me, little one," he leaned in and you took a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself down.

"Why would I?" you raised your hand to show him your ring. He hummed and whistled at it.

"Nice piece, baby. But it can mean anything," he insisted. "I think you're just playing hard to get, am I right, sweetheart?"

"Please, I am not interested," you shook your head as he was trying to put his arm around you.

"Why not? You seemed to be interested in the other guy and he was a fucking nobody."

"He was kind… And he wasn't pushy," you tried to get away as he was moving closer and closer.

"What's your name, by the way, sugar?" the man asked.

"Her name is Mrs. Gale Cleven," Buck's familiar, deep and warm voice made you look up as you smiled through the tears of humiliation.

He was standing above you with a drink in his hand and he looked oh-so-pissed like you've never seen him before.

"Shit, man, you mean she's married to that Major Cleven?" the big man let go of you and stood up immediately, grabbing his sunglasses from the table. "Thanks for the heads up, dude. And you are…?"

"Major Gale Cleven, dude," Buck answered angrily and you watched how the creep's smile dropped instantly.

"Oh, there's… There's been some misunderstanding, Major, I… There was a young Sergeant bothering your wife and I…" he started to stutter.

Buck looked at you now and you knew that he wasn't angry at you but his intense bright eyes still caused a chill go down your spine.

"Is that true?" he asked.

"There was a young Sergeant talking to me, I invited him to sit with me. He was friendly," you nodded. "I did not require saving as far as I am concerned… You, on the other hand," you looked at the scared big guy, "you were far from polite and you didn't treat me like a lady at all."

Buck put the glass down loudly in front of you and stared at the guy with contempt as the muscles of his jaw twitched.

"Let's take it outside," he proposed as your eyes widened. Buck was never the type to start a bar fight or anything of that sort. And as much as you believed in your brave Major, you didn't want him to fight that huge man.

"Buck, honey," you stood up to put a hand on his chest, "let him go, he's just drunk. He's not worth getting in trouble."

"I'm sorry Major, I didn't mean to be rude to your wife, sir," the man saluted.

"You only apologize because you know she's my wife. Otherwise you'd keep bothering her," Buck squinted his eyes.

"No, sir."

"Yes, Lieutenant, now get the fuck out of here."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the man saluted for the last time before walking away as fast as possible.

"Buck!" you pushed him gently as your jaw dropped. "Where did you learn such language?"

He didn't answer, however. He sat down, took his cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. You could see his hands shaking from restraining himself. You decided to give him a moment so you just sat down as well and sipped on your drink.

"Thanks for the coke, baby," you whispered eventually.

"You're welcome. The queue was long, sorry 'bout that."

"Oh, no need to be sorry," you caressed his tense arm. "Buck, you're okay?"

"Yeah, um, no," he looked up to meet your gaze and you furrowed your brow. He took your left hand and caressed your knuckles. "We should get married for real."

"I know, baby," you smiled widely, "when you come back to me for good, yes?"

"No, now," he insited all of sudden in a serious tone. "What if I don't come back for good?"

"Oh, don't say that! You've only a few missions left and… And this is supposed to ensure that you come back! God won't let you die when he knows you've a marriage to look forward to!"

"I want you to be safe if I don't come back," he didn't listen to you. "You'll have more privileges as a widow."

"Why are you bringing this up?!" you could feel tears forming in your eyes. "You were the one to tell me to stop thinking about it."

"But that jerk made me realize a thing or two, alright? Shh… Shh…" he cupped your face and kissed you. "Don't you want to be Mrs. Gale Cleven for real, sweetheart?"

"I… I do," you chuckled and nodded.

"God," he sighed and pecked your lips one more time, "thinking of you wearing my surname makes me dizzy more than any turbulence I've ever had to deal with."

"Just you wait and see, Major," you laughed through the tears, "being married to me will be the worst turbulence you'll ever experience."

"I hope that's a promise, doll."

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[scoringeffects]

do you have/know of any kind of natejo primer post? i am starting to be very very intrigued by them…

there is this very delightful primer that covers natejo during their halifax mooseheads era (juniors, age 16-18 [2011-13]) and their team north america era (made up team for the 2016 world cup of hockey) i would so so super recommend clicking on every link there, and as for the 2023-24 season:

nate reached out to jo about playing with him in colorado during the summer because he knew his contract with montreal was coming to an end and jo signed for league mininum to play with him

jo talking about nate in his 'get to know me' interview

jo knows where nate is knows what he likes can almost feel him on the ice. normal things to say about your center.

they walk their dogs together!

bench yappers. ignore that nate probably doesnt have a great deal of concepts about personal space.

both nate and jo achieved career highs in points playing on the same line. nate by 29 freaking points. jo also had a career high in time on ice per game !

nate has the most assists on jo's goals, and jo loves to pass to nate.

one of jo's very best games as an av where he scored the OT winner and partially helped nate extend his second to gretzky home point streak. not inherently natejo but the nhl put the full game up on youtube and its a fun background watch because the announcers r so very nice about jo yayayyyyy. okay hold on it definately used to be up on youtube as a 'fan favourite' voted in game and now its either unlisted, restricted, or entirely gone. fascinating. what a wonderful league. anway.

here's nate saying that jo is his favourite teammate ever. since 2010 nate has played with at least 280 people. he said this during his hart (league mvp as voted by the writers' association) and ted lindsay (league mvp as voted by the players' association) award interview. also couldnt find it for the life of me but im certain there's an interview where jo says he wants to play with nate for ten more years. EDIT: here is the article, found by the lovely @mi-kko-ran-tanen it is also a bit of a natejo primer very very good would encourage a read

24-25 season:

jo resigned for another year ! turned down money again for 'loyalty and happiness'

they actually might have seperation anxiety

jo is going to be point per game this season i believe it with my whole heart.

r-ing into the rpf:

nate's start in the league was . well. the avs were very very bad for quite sometime, bottomed out nearly historically after the 2016-17 season (season directly after team north america and the world cup of hockey) and i think this is around the time nate locked in so to speak. this spittin chiclets interview from 2019 is pretty good (dont let the spittin chiclets part put u off 🙏), he talks about worrying about being a bust, about his expectations and also just the way he talks back then and what he's achieved in the five years since oh nate u have no idea whats in store for u ☹️

jo's time in the nhl has been tumultuous to say the least.

mid way into the 2022-23 season he held the record for most points without a goal by a forward in a single season. (he ended the season 2-27-29, scoring a goal in his 46th game) teammate and close friend josh anderson was quite sweet about it all

there's a lot of talk about jo being a draft bust, there's also a lot of talk about his development being screwed from the get go (sent back down to juniors for the 2013-14 season despite having won the calder cup the uear prior because if a player is juniors eligable they cant play in the minors or smth like that), he was also injured a lot, the habs under bergevin not being great at player development, and in tampa and montreal there was an expectation on him to be an offensive powerhouse that he just wasnt unfortunately due to injuries and mental health issues. they also tried to develop him at center.

it is absolutely not the best metric to measure 'draft bustness', but sorting the 2013 draft by games played and total points, jo is top 20 for games played and top 15 for total points

an espn redraft from march of 2023 has him still in the first round but much lower

absolutely crushing thank u greg

jo was actually injured so much holy shit bro has never played a full season. the closest he got was 81 games in 18-19

apparently there was some buzz about a drouin-iginla trade in 2015 between tampa and colorado??? what couldve been damn

ALL THIS TO SAY nate believed in him and jo believed in nate and it paid off so freaking hard last season and jo has his love for hockey back and nate had his career best personal season next to him and they are it if u think about it

f-ing into the rpf:

i know you didnt ask but i would be remiss if i didnt share these, they're currently what i would say is quintessential natejo reading

I don't believe in soulmates (but nobody saw me like you) by shade_of_blue (@shade-of-drou) (M, 6k) soulmates au where jo realises dewey has soulbond sickness

those who favor fire by bruinss (@droumack) (M, 14k) absoloutely crushing magical realism fic where jo's heart freezes the more he falls in love. it is actually unfathomable how much nate loves him, and how much nate loves jo

got my finger on her trigger by creamsicle_melt (@creamsiclemelt) (E, 6k) lesbian natejo nate fucks jo within an inch of her life absolutely fantastic peice of literature.

you'd have to stop the world by bladeless_knife (@mi-kko-ran-tanen) (M, 12k) nate is stuck in a timeloop watching jo get hurt no matter what he does. genuinely incredible theyre so so very much natejo here and also very nate and very jo

Gather by plethoriall (@plethoriall) (E, 4k) once again, another fic where theyre so very natejo. like that interview linked in the very first bullet point? those guys ("yeah we're dumb and dumber") def did this. a delightful study in what if our codependant homoerotic teenage friendship turned into a regular healthy adult friendship except every time you touch me i remember how we used to jerk eachother off which (thankfully for everyone inolved) turned into Yay sex and also i love you. instead of turning toxic.

all very very very good writers i would highly highly suggest checking out their other works as well + commenting and kudoing

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess. 

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already. 

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it. 

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this. 

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet. 

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand. 

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin. 

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron. 

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks. 

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate. 

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming. 

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?” 

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.” 

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl. 

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long. 

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room. 

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand. 

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face. 

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…” 

“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.” 

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” 

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.” 

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone. 

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” 

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud. 

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad. 

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch. 

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy. 

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video. 

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.” 

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.” 

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room. 

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.” 

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall. 

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile.  “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island. 

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug. 

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look. 

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you. 

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?” 

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on. 

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you. 

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.” 

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption. 

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction 

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words. 

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking. 

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious. 

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes. 

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

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[turvi]

Yo what about just sittin on Rodrick’s lap as he discusses stuff with the band

Thanks for the request

Rodrick munched on the snacks that he stole borrowed from Greg's secret stash that he shared with his friends as they lounged on the living room couch, Evanescence playing on his tv.

His friend Adam mumbled. "Rodrick, will we get famous like that?" Rodrick looked up at the tv as he finally got time free from munching snacks.

"Adam, I can see it. In 10 years, people will fly from all over the world just to see us perform. We will do actual world tours." His friends looked at him, smiling as he continued.

Rodrick stood on his couch. "We will tour South America, Europe, and Asia." His friends cheered, but a particular cheer caught his attention. He turned around to see his girl Y/n clapping for him. He leapt over the couch, picked her up without effort, and twirled her around. "And you, my sweet girl, will manage our band."

Y/n put her hand on her chest. "It will be an honour, rockstar."

Rodrick couldn't help but blush. He loved it when Y/n would take pride in his music and would talk about it with her friends. He thanked his lucky stars that he found her.

"You got real quiet there. What are you thinking?" Y/n whispered as she fixed his hair.

"I am so lucky that you love me. You have always supported me, always been so kind to me. Although you can get annoying when I don't shower." He cupped her face, dodging her fingers as she tried to tickle him.

"Come on, sit with me, doll. Watch as history happens." Rodrick tugged her to where he was sitting with his friends. They all greeted her with a smile and went back to suggesting titles for their songs. He smirked when she sat on his lap, pecking her cheek as he started discussing song titles with his friends.

................................................................................

Y/n suddenly woke up and realised it had got dark outside. She looked around and realised she was still sitting on Rodrick's lap. She looked up and smiled as her heart was filled with love as she saw him sleeping peacefully.

She started to get up, but Rodrick's grip on her waist tightened. Y/n pinched his nose as a smirk spread on his lips. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Greg is at Rowley's home, and Mom and Dad have taken Manny to Grandma's home. It's just you and me at home right now," he smirked as he wrapped her arms around her waist.

"What are you planning?" Y/n asked as the back of her finger brushed his cheek.

"Just stay with me. We don't have to do anything. I just want to hold you." His chocolate-brown eyes looked at her, pleading for her to stay.

Y/n nodded. "Ok. I'll stay, and you can rant about Greg all you want."

She felt like she fell more in love with him as his face lightened up and he held her closer to him. Y/n heard him taking a deep breath as she laid her head on his chest.

She looked up at him. "Is something bothering you?"

Rodrick's eyes widened. It always took him by surprise how she always took him by surprise how she would know how he really felt. He sighed, trying to find the correct words to say.

"I made pretty big promises in front of my friends. But what if we don't fulfil those promises."

Y/n realised he was getting insecure. "Now, it's not just your dream to do a world tour, Rodrick. It's your goal. It's one of your biggest goals. Take one step at a time. Do your shows locally, get a professional manager, and keep working on your music...there are so many things to do, Rodrick, and you have just started. So please don't give up." she kissed him as she held his hand, letting him know she was there for him.

Rodrick broke the kiss. He needed to see her, to take her beauty in. "I don't deserve you." He breathlessly mumbled against her lips before kissing her again. "I love you so much." he peppered kisses all over her face. He had to let her know how much he loved her.

"And I love you too, rockstar." Y/n kissed him back as a promise to be with him through thick and thin.

A/N: I know I am late sorry. I got busy anyways I hope you like it. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[floppnopikka]

୨⎯”STANLEY PINES DATING HEADCANONS”⎯୧

He would call you nicknames like 'sweet cheeks' 'sugar pie' 'honey crackers' 'hot stuff'

When you ever feel like you're in your lowest moments this man doesn't know what to do to comfort you BUT he will try his very best to cheer you up. In the Book of Bill, his life has been in his lowest moments and there was no one to comfort him except for his mom, Jimmy Snakes (probably) and Stanford. Taking you to dinner (his treat ofc but only because he hates seeing you all depressed) go fishing and getting a free souvenir from his Mystery Shack.

This man is STRONG, never doubt his strength, he can punch, kick, and punch again. All his fats are his muscles so if you ever have anything heavy to carry just let him do it or if you got a sprained ankle because of your clumsiness, expect this man to insult you first before carrying you like you weigh nothing, ok he might struggle BUT JUST FOR A LITTLE BIT.

Needs constant reassurance, this man has always been looked down and stepped on in his whole life only for himself to stand up again without anyone's help. If you happen to get in a relationship with him, he will ask and look at you for support and words for him to keep going. He can get a bit dependent on you but not always, he knows how to stand up for himself after decades of insults from others and your praise may seem skeptical for him but knew better than to trust your words.

This man cannot read without his glasses, if you see him without his glasses and he's trying to read something on his news paper or watching TV, you can see him squinting his eyes in a verge of closing them.

If someone harasses you or talks bad about you, this man will definitely talk shit to someone and punch them so hard they will end up in the hospital.

He's prideful and won't back down to any teasing you call him (in a playful manner) but when it's serious moments, he'll have a hard time expressing his feelings because it always turns to anger or walking out but when he does something wrong, it'll take him a few minutes to apologize because he was never one to apologize or people would just ignore his apology.

Stanley isn't a fan of those cheesy romantic things like, giving flowers, chocolates, writing poems and stuff like that. Unless it's valentine's day or your birthday, he'll ask Mabel and Dipper for help on how to greet you, set you up with him. Just because he's not that type of man doesn't mean he's not showing his love and affection for you.

When you're not around, he would fr brag you to anyone 'Have you seen Y/N? well, bad luck for you buddy, you literally missed a sight for sore eyes. Which happens to be my significant other!' and then he would laugh at the child or 'Look here buddy, Y/N is someone who's very passionate on anything they do, I mean look at them! don't you feel the raging flames of passion they're putting there?' he pointed the direction where you stood and then it's just you arguing with a karen in the grocery store while he grins lazily as he sips his soda 'Yup, very passionate'

When you two got into an argument and didn't end well, he would stay up all night thinking about it, tossing and turning on the bed with a groan. He will apologize but it's messy because he doesn't know how or it's too hard for him to do say it. "Look, I made a mistake and I... I know what I did was wrong and I just wanna say..." long pause "...m'sorry..." in the most quiet yet audible apology you'll ever hear but if that didn't budge you he'll try even more "Ok! ok! I really... am! I'm sorry, ok? what I did to you was wrong, I'll give you space if you need it and... I'm sorry, again, really" but you can't stay mad at him for long so you forgive him in an instant.

Overall, a patient and understanding partner is what he needs perhaps someone who has the same ego as him would be fun, an adventurous partner would be his cup of coffee since he is the most wanted criminal in America, you two would be partners in crime >:)

A/N: hope y'all like it, might be ooc of Stanley Pines

[societyfolklore]

Apple Pie – Part 1

Title: Apple Pie – Part 1

Pairing: Dark!Endgame Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve knows it’s important to move on, and he’s going to make sure you do.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: / Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Possessive, Dub Con/Non Con, DARK, Coercion, Eventual SMUT, No Beta (More specific tags will be added as required)

A/N: Very excited about starting this series off.. This is set post Snap but pre the events of Endgame proper (probably about two-three years into the Blip/Snap) There will not be a set update schedule

The first time you saw him in person, it almost didn’t feel real.

Captain America.

Not on the news, not in some historical footage, but there- standing before a circle of people in a dimly lit community centre, running a support group.

That was the first time, but you’d been attending this group run by Steve for, what, six months now? It often felt like your only tether to the world. The meetings were the only time you felt connected to anything, like an anchor keeping you from drifting into the numb void that had replaced the life you once knew. Without them, without Steve's steady voice reminding you to keep going, you weren’t sure if you would have even gotten out of bed some days.

You barely noticed the Styrofoam cup of tea cooling in your hands as you watched him speak. The warmth had long since faded, mirroring the hollowness in your chest. The room felt heavy, thick with unspoken grief, the air tinged with the faint scent of old coffee and cheap disinfectant. Voices murmured around you, some raw with emotion, others flat, drained. But you barely registered any of it. The tea in your hands had started as a comfort, something to ground you, but now it was just another thing slipping away, cooling past the point of saving. Steve Rogers was calm, steady, a voice of unwavering strength in a room filled with shattered lives. He wasn’t just talking- he was listening, really listening, to every story, every loss, every quiet plea hidden in the words of the group.

“We’re what’s left,” he said, scanning the room, meeting everyone’s gaze in turn. “The world is in our hands now. We have to make a go of it.”

His words settled in your chest like a weight, but not in a crushing way. It was grounding. They were words you wanted to believe. Words you needed to believe.

He understood. He had lost, too. Going into the ice, losing everyone he ever knew, only to wake up in a world that had moved on without him. And then, after everything, losing even more. Bucky, gone. Sam, gone, not to mention Peggy. Or the people he should have been able to save.

You had lost nearly everything now- your husband, most of your friends. Even your parents had passed years ago. And then The Snap had taken what was left of your circle. The last string tethering you to a world that no longer felt like it had a place for you had been cut. And yet, here you were, still breathing, still waking up every day to a house that didn’t feel like home anymore.

Your fingers tightened around the cup as you finally spoke, your voice quieter than you’d liked. “I cried while mowing the lawn last week.”

A few sympathetic chuckles rippled through the group, but Steve just nodded, his expression open and understanding, as though he knew exactly where the conversation was heading before you did.

“That was his job,” you continued, forcing the words out. “And now I do it. I’ve been doing it for a while now, but…it still feels like I’m just waiting for him to come back and take over. Like he’s just…on a trip. Or at work. And any day now, he’s going to walk in the door and tell me I did it wrong.”

Your breath shuddered, and you looked down. “I don’t know who I am without that life.”

A beat of silence stretched before Steve spoke. “I know it feels like the whole world is gone,” he said, his voice gentle, careful. “But you’re still here. We’re still here.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

For the first time in a long time, you felt seen. You didn’t always share. Most nights, you sat and listened, let others fill the empty spaces with their pain so you wouldn’t have to voice your own. But in that moment, when Steve met your gaze and didn’t look away, it felt like maybe he saw it anyway. Like maybe he understood. You thought about the way he had looked at you, as if you weren’t just another grieving person in the room. As if he understood something deeper, something you hadn’t even said. The memory of his voice lingered, the cadence of reassurance wrapped in steel.

You admired him, how someone like Steve Rogers could lose so much and still find the strength to help others. There was something compelling about it, something that made you wonder- how did he keep going? How did he bear the weight of it all without breaking? A small part of you, the part you rarely acknowledged, wondered what it would be like to have someone like that carry some of your weight. To not have to hold everything alone. What kind of man carried the weight of the world and still reached out to hold someone else steady?

And, more importantly- what would it feel like to be held?

~#~#~#~

As the meeting wrapped up, you lingered in your seat, still feeling the weight of what you had shared. People around you were standing, stretching, gathering their things, chatting in low murmurs. You thought about slipping out unnoticed, but Steve’s presence made that impossible.

He moved easily through the space, offering nods and small smiles, always approachable. But this time, he didn’t just blend into the group. He was making his way toward you.

“You doing okay after that?” His voice was lower now, softer, meant just for you.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Felt good to talk today.”

His lips quirked, not quite a smile. “I worry about you being alone so much. It’s not good for people- being alone.”

You blinked at him. “You don’t have to worry, I’m- ”

“I pay attention,” he said simply. "I know you're not okay."

Something in his tone made it feel like an unspoken challenge, like he wouldn’t accept anything but the truth.

For some reason, you ended up talking to him longer than you meant to. He asked easy questions- about your job, about your daily routine, about how you had been holding up. And for the first time in a long time, you found yourself answering honestly.

You almost told him how much you had started looking forward to the meetings. Not just for the group- but because Steve would be there. Because his presence was steady, grounding. Because, for those brief hours, the world outside didn’t feel quite so empty.

He listened intently, asking questions that made you reflect in ways you hadn’t before. How long had it been since you laughed, truly laughed? Did you have anyone checking in on you? What did you do for yourself these days- just for you? The longer the conversation stretched, the more you realized how much space he was occupying in your mind.

When people started filtering out of the meeting, Steve lingered. “I could walk you to your car,” he offered, casually, like it was no big deal.

You hesitated. “It’s not far.”

“Still,” he said, shrugging. “I’d feel better knowing you're safe.”

It was so simple, so easy to agree to. And so you did.

He walked beside you, steps measured and unhurried, his presence both effortless and solid. The night air was cool, and for the first time in a long time, you weren’t hurrying to get home, weren’t trying to escape the open space of the world outside. Steve didn’t rush, and neither did you.

When you reached your car, he paused. “Drive safe, alright?”

You nodded, and for a moment, you thought that was it. But the next time, he was there again. And again. Until it became routine.

At first, it was just to the parking lot. Then, one night, you mentioned walking home instead of driving, and he offered to walk with you. That became routine, too. Soon, he was waiting at the meeting’s end before you could even glance toward the door, already stepping beside you, as if it had always been this way.

It started small.

“You shouldn’t have to do everything by yourself,” he said one evening after the meeting, when you mentioned how your sink had been leaking, how you wanted to call a handyman but your husband hated having workmen in the house when it was task he could do, how it felt like a betrayal of what he stood for to pay someone. “You’ve been through enough.”

You shook your head, waving a hand. “I’ll call someone eventually. Got to be a big big girl now.." 

Steve frowned, just slightly. “Let me help.”

“You don’t have to- ”

“I’d feel better knowing you’re taken care of.” His voice was gentle, sincere. “You shouldn’t have to let a stranger into your home. Not when you’ve got a friend willing to help. I'm sure your husband wouldn't turn down the help of a friend.”

And it was that- ‘friend’- that made you cave.

It felt harmless.

You weren’t sure why, but something about the way he said it settled into you. A friend. When was the last time you had one of those? Someone who just wanted to help, just wanted to be there. Someone not caught up in their own grief all the time. It had been so long since anyone had even offered to lighten the load that you almost forgot what it felt like. And for once, it felt easy to just accept it. Steve showed up the next afternoon, sleeves rolled up, a warm, easy smile in place. He carried himself with that quiet confidence, like he belonged in any room he stepped into, toolbox in hand. He looked the part of the all-American man- broad shoulders, golden hair catching the afternoon light, the very image of stability and strength. A man built to protect, to provide, to take care of things without hesitation. It was easy to see why people trusted him so easily, why it felt so natural to let him in.

The sink was fixed within minutes. Then the door that squeaked. Then the cabinet hinge that had been threatening to snap off.

“This could have broken right off if you weren’t careful,” he said, testing it. “Good thing I checked.”

You murmured something about not having noticed, and he only smiled.

Then, since he was already there, he started pointing out a few more things. Little details you hadn’t paid attention to- the uneven leg on your dining table, the slightly off-kilter bathroom self, the way your front door lock stuck when you turned the key.

“You don’t notice these things until they go completely,” he said, tightening a bolt under the table. “Best to fix them now before they become real problems.”

And you found yourself nodding along, thinking how easy it was with him around, how simple everything seemed when he was handling it.

Steve even helped you put together the spice rack you had bought but never assembled. As you watched him work, his hands steady and sure, a strange mix of emotions stirred in your chest. Relief, gratitude- maybe even a small twinge of guilt. You should have done this yourself, shouldn’t you? But it was so much easier letting him handle it. Easier to let someone else take care of the things you didn’t want to deal with. Was that such a bad thing? Then the bookshelf. He was perfect, even going so far as to dust from the light fixtures you couldn’t reach.

“Gotta keep things bright in here,” he joked, stepping off the chair he’d been using. “A dim home can make you feel even lonelier.”

When he was leaving, he noticed your tires were low and frowned.

"I'll come by tomorrow to look at your car." There wasn’t room to question in his tone. You could see how he ended up being in command of things so easily. How natural it was for him to just- lead.

He made it easy to let him.

The next evening, when he came to check your car, he brought dinner. “Figured you probably didn’t have time to cook today,” he said casually, placing a bag of takeout on the counter. It was from your favorite place.

You didn’t remember telling him what that was.

“You don’t have to keep coming by, you know,” you said one day, after he had finished mowing your lawn. You were sitting on the porch, watching him wipe the sweat off his brow. The heat had left him working in just his undershirt, blonde hair looking a little messy. He looked younger when he smiled at you.

“I don’t mind,” he said, stretching his arms. “What kind of hero would I be if I didn’t help where I could?”

And that made you smile.

You stopped calling anyone else for help because Steve was always there.

Then one day, he brought over groceries. “Figured you might need a few things,” he said, placing the bags on your counter. “Got your favorite tea, too.”

You didn’t even remember telling him what your favorite tea was.

You admit it was strange, but sweet. And convenient.

Then he started staying a little longer each time. He didn’t just fix things- he asked about your day, sat at your kitchen table, drank a cup of coffee as if he’d always been meant to be there. He looked so big in your house. Those wide shoulders, designed to carry every worry in the world without drooping.

He asked about your favorite movies. Before you knew it, he was sitting on your couch watching them with you. “Can’t believe you love this one,” he had laughed, shaking his head at some romantic comedy, but he stayed until the credits rolled. Though sharing your couch felt foreign now. Steve large frame taking up so much of it, the weight of him so close making his presence hard to ignore.

He laughed when you offhandedly mentioned never getting around to organizing your bookshelves. “That’s a crime,” he said, shaking his head. “C’mon, let’s fix it.”

Before you knew it, you were spending an evening rearranging your books, the two of you sitting on the floor as he handed you novels, asking which ones were your favorites. And you answered. You wanted to answer.

But the feeling didn’t last.

There was something creeping at the edges of your mind, a guilt that gnawed at the easy comfort of the moment. You shouldn't have felt this way. Steve was a friend. He was kind, thoughtful, patient. You should have been excited, grateful even, to have him there, filling the empty spaces of your home with warmth. And yet, something about it felt wrong. Like a slow, creeping weight pressing down on your chest.

You smiled when he laughed at a book title, but it was tight, forced. You answered his questions, but there was a hesitation beneath the words, an uncertainty you couldn’t quite explain.

Then, it happened.

Steve reached for a book on the lowest shelf, fingers brushing over its spine before plucking it out and flipping it open. Your stomach clenched at the sight of it in his hands.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you snatched it from him, holding it protectively against your chest. The movement was too fast, too sharp, the air between you suddenly tense.

Steve’s brows lifted in surprise, his expression shifting from confusion to quiet understanding. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“No, I- ” you exhaled, fingers curling around the worn cover. You wanted to explain, wanted to tell him why it mattered, why the sight of it in his hands had sent panic clawing up your throat. But all you could manage was a weak, “That was from him, my copy of his favourite...”

Your thumb brushed over the faded inscription inside the front cover, a familiar loop of handwriting that you had long since memorized. A gift. A memory. One of the few things you still had left.

Steve was silent for a moment, watching you with something unreadable in his gaze before he spoke. “Sometimes it’s good to hold onto things.” His voice was gentle, steady. But then he tilted his head, his tone shifting into something quieter, something coaxing. “But if holding onto it is hurting you… maybe you need to let it go.”

You swallowed hard. You should have agreed. Should have nodded, should have told him he was right. But instead, you just hugged the book a little closer, unable to meet his gaze.

How were you supposed to let go of the only person that-

"I'm tired, maybe we should do this in a few more days.." Your voice strained under the effort to keep from-  Screaming? Crying? Pleading to let you have one more moment with the person who was supposed to still be there?

"Sure, it's been a long day. I'll see myself out." Something in Steve's tone of understanding hurt just the same as the ache in your chest. It wasn’t irritation, or even disappointment- it was patience, unnervingly so. Like he already knew you’d come around.

Damned if you did, damned if you didn’t.

"See you at the meeting on Wednesday." You nodded, pushing your hair behind your ears, still not looking up from the spot on the floor. The door closed behind Steve, the weight of it settling over you like an iron curtain. The silence was suffocating, pressing in on your chest until the tears came.

You sat there for a long time, clutching the book to your chest like a lifeline. How long had it been since you'd let yourself cry? Not just tears slipping down your cheeks, but really cry? It was a quiet, hollow thing- muffled against your palm as if making noise might make it worse. Might make it real. ~#~#~#~

It was guilt that made you do it, the decision to start moving forward. Or maybe it was exhaustion. You should have been doing things yourself. You’d started looking up YouTube videos, even considered a home maintenance course being run at the YMCA. You saw the flyer pinned up at the community center after the support group, but you left quickly before Steve could come over. A few blocks away, you pulled over and cried, your hands gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white. Why was this so hard? Why did it feel so awful?

Every time you tried to move forward, something pulled you back. It wasn’t just the grief- it was the weight of change itself. Fixing a leaking sink wasn’t just fixing a leaking sink; it was admitting he was never coming back to do it for you. Learning to patch drywall or unclog a drain wasn’t just about self-sufficiency; it was proof that you were alone. Really, truly alone.

You sat there in your parked car, head resting against the wheel, eyes burning with unshed tears. Maybe you were making a mistake. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe you weren’t ready for this. But wasn’t that the point? You had to start somewhere. If you didn’t, you were afraid you never would.

“I should start doing things myself again,” you told him one afternoon when he’d popped by to help clean the windows with you. The words felt unnatural on your tongue, hesitant, like you were bracing for impact. You weren’t sure how he was going to take it. He’d done so much for you. You should have been grateful- Captain America was being such a good friend. But then why did it feel like you needed permission to say it?

Instead of arguing, Steve smiled, his expression easy, unreadable. “I admire that, I do. But those courses- sometimes they teach you things that don’t really apply to real-world problems. Some of them are just theory, not actual skill-building. Hope it’s not a waste of time and money. Some of those things are basically scams, you know.”

The way he said it made you pause. Maybe he was right. It was expensive. And what if you didn’t even end up using half the things they taught? Still, it felt like something you should be doing. Life had to start moving on didn't it? That was almost the mantra in the support group. 

You faltered, the certainty you’d held onto slipping just slightly. Steve took a step closer, his voice dropping into something softer, reassuring. “I think it’s great that you want to do more for yourself, sweetheart. I really do. But you don’t have to prove anything to me. I already know how capable you are.”

His words curled around you like a warm blanket, soothing, familiar. And just like that, doubt crept in, snaking through your resolve.

And just like that, you doubted yourself. You'd never needed this skill, didn't want these skills. It felt so final.. 

It was a slow, creeping thing. The way confidence melted under the weight of Steve's certainty. "It takes a village."  The way your plans, so solid just moments ago, suddenly felt... unnecessary.

The idea of fixing things alone didn’t feel quite so good anymore.

And Steve-

Steve was just happy to help.

And weren't you supposed to be building an new network, people to rely on? Moving forward together? 

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 7B

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. Jus sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: took a page from @whytheylosttheirminds with separating the part into 2. Because it’s a bit of writing. About 3k words each. I wanted to finish this off before S4 P2 begins so it’s finishing this is the last part until it airs.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, bit of angst, smut (oral m receiving, chest riding, p in v riding) death, Luke Maybank

“Can we please talk?”

You give it a second but you can see the desperation in his eyes, “okay, talk.”

He runs a hand through his buzz cut, eyes heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. I do want to be better. I’m the man of the Cameron family now, and what am I supposed to do when all the women in my life hate me? Fear me? It eats at me. I should’ve stood up for Kie, set an example that Ruthie and Topper’s bullshit isn’t acceptable anymore, never was, I don’t care about that reputation anymore, not like I used to. When I look at V, all I want is to be better. I have no excuse.

He watches you, searching for a sign that you’re listening. You offer him nothing, forcing him to keep talking. “I took you for granted for so long. Used you, kept you a secret because I was scared of what people would think, all because of stupid titles. I knew Topper and Kelce wouldn’t say anything but that’s always what they’d use to try to piss me off when we’d be messing with each other. You always meant something to me and I constantly pushed you away. I hurt you more times than I can count, some of the times worse than others.”

Painful memories flash between you—He’s talking about the time he handcuffed you to his bed during his downward spiral after killing Peterkin, dragging you with him to Barry’s when he needed to hide out, putting you in the middle of gunfire with the police when he got caught. Drugging you alongside Sarah and bringing you on that ship then standing idle why he watched his dad strangle you until you were blue when you got smart with him about murdering Big John. All because he didn’t want to be alone.

“You came to me for protection from your father, and I failed you. You tried to help me, and I pushed you away. But all I want now is to see you happy. You shouldn’t have even forgiven me.”

Tears slip down your face as you reach out, cupping his cheek. “I told you what I thought your problem was, and I was right. You’ve grown without your father’s shadow. Even before I came back, you’d changed. You are the man of the Cameron family now, and you can be the kind of man your father never was. I need you to be all in, Rafe. No more half-measures. V needs you. I need to know we can count on you. Only then can we move forward.”

You grab the sea turtle V left on the bed this morning, unintentionally but great for the point you’re trying to make. “Because what if she was there, what if she could understand all that happened.” You toss it to him. “Think about her Rafe.”

“I promise,” he says, voice cracking. “Forever and always.”

A bittersweet smile spreads across your face. The words that once comforted you in your darkest moments return, anchoring you both.

I’ll protect you, I promise, forever and always.

I’ll be here for you when you need me, I promise, forever and always.

I’ll kick his ass for you, I promise, forever and always.

“I love you, Rafe, and that’s never changing.” You kneel closer, wrapping him in a hug.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice resolute. “Forever and always.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You look at him, and he smirks. You kiss him on the lips, then his jaw, then his neck. He coos at the feeling. You sit up and pull off your tank top, laying back down. You stare into his eyes intently as you play with the waistline of your shorts. He goes to reach out for you, but you smack his hand away.

“Uh uh, take your clothes off.” “Yes, mam.” He stands up and rids himself of his own pajamas, now standing completely bare in front of you. “Lay.”

He does exactly as you say. You straddle his legs, running a finger down his length to tease him. Kneeling your upper body down, arch your ass into the air, and he smiles down at you. You grab him in your hand, running your thumb over his tip, smearing his precum. You drop a glob of spit down onto him. You lower your head onto him, beginning to bob up and down. He thrusts up into you at the sensation, and you remove your mouth from him.

“Uh uh, I’m in charge tonight, baby.”

He nods his head and throws his hands up in a mock surrender. You begin bobbing again, taking as much of him as you can, gagging on his huge length but taking him nonetheless. You run your hand that's not pumping him up and down his torso, scratching your nails on the way down. You hear his series of grunts and moans and feel the way he'd tense up trying to refrain from thrusting up.

He was getting close, and you could tell by the way he'd twitch in your throat. When his breathing started to hitch, you let him go and watched for his reaction. As he realizes his orgasm was lost, he opens his eyes to see you kneeling in front of him with a big smirk.

“Not fun being treated like shit, right?” You laugh, and he rolls his eyes but eventually laughs quietly. He goes to sit up, and you push him back into the pillow. You want to tease him as much as you can. You made up, but it's nice to give him a little taste of his own medicine.

You start making your way up him, taking a seat right below his chin. You push down into him and moan. You begin to ride his chest. Rafe always loved to eat you out, and you know having him this close to your pussy drives him crazy.

“Let me taste you.” Gripping his head, moving it up closer to your clit. “Tongue out.” He lays his tongue out flat, and you move a little closer to also ride his tongue. Using him like this feels so good since you'd usually let him take control.

Your movements quicken, digging your nails into the back of his head, and you crane his neck. You're getting close, and you don't plan on slowing down. You hold yourself up on the headboard, and your body twitches. Rafe moans into your clit, and your head throws back. You shake as you come, arousal sticking to his chest. You lift up a bit to his mouth, and he cleans up what's left.

You move back down to his waist. Licking the palm of your hand and reaching back to stroke him. His body jolts at the feelings. You line yourself up with him and sink down onto him. Your nails dig into his chest at the stretching. No matter how many times you do this, the feeling always has you shocked.

You settle on him for a second before you lift up and throw yourself back down onto him. Your pace is immediately quick. You bounce like there's no tomorrow. Taking control of him like this is so rewarding. The feeling is amazing, but you need more stimulation. You begin to grind, feeling his pelvic bone rub against you has seeing stars.

“Can I touch?” You nod, and Rafe's hands roam your body. You're driving him crazy tonight, but his touch is soft. Taking every inch of you in. You're an angel sent from heaven to him. You're both close, and you're getting tired. Rafe grabs your hips and keeps you moving. You lean down and begin to kiss him.

“Love you, baby doll. Forever and always.” You lean your forehead on his as you continue your movements. “Fuck, Rafe. I love you more. Forever and always.” You cry out with a high-pitched moan as you release your orgasm. Rafe follows right behind you, gripping your waist hard and letting out a bunch of grunts.

You lift off of Rafe but stay on top of him. You shift down a little, enough to be able to lay your head on his chest. Following the rise and fall of his heavy breaths and listen to his heart race, while he holds you tightly, leaving kisses on the top of your head. You could lay like that forever.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

The next morning you and Rafe wake up still tangled up with one another. He’s dressed and doesn’t smell like sweat and sex anymore, which means he left at some point. It angers you a bit but you chose to let it go for now. You take a shower and come out of the bathroom to see Rafe flying V around the room like Superman. You’re downstairs having breakfast, really just talking to V trying to make her laugh. That fell into a bit of a silence.

“I took the deal.”

“What?”

“Last night, I took the deal. That’s why I was dressed. I know you noticed but didn’t say anything.”

Taken aback just a bit. You were still very nervous of what Hollis’s intentions were. But you said you’d be supportive no matter what. “Ok, so now what?”

“She sent the info to the investors. The deposit should come out at some point today. And now I’m in contract with them.”

“Did you read the fine print about murder if this thing goes wrong?”

He laughs at the outrageous statements and goes to reach for your hand. “Yes, I read the whole thing, no there isn’t anything about murder. Not sure it’s something they’d want in paper.”

You smile and grip his hand a little harder. You go to say something but he cuts you off, “after yesterday, after our talk, after last night (he winks and you giggle), I thought this was the best step for US.” I want to be taken seriously, I want to be a strong father for V. Then I saw a photo of me and Sarah and I thought about the things I did to her. How she hates my guts, how she looked at me yesterday. I can’t be that person anymore. I’m gonna do the right thing and this is a stepping stone in that. This is for our family. I know you always hated that I’d tried to treat you with gifts and money, but you’re stuck with me and what’s mine is yours. So get used to it.” He takes a deep breath and smiles at you.

You release his hand and walk to the other side of the table to sit on his lap. “Ok Rafe Cameron. I told you I’d be there with you the whole way. Anything you need I’ll help you. I’m not going anywhere this time.” You give him a big kiss on the cheek when your phone starts to vibrate.

You reach over and pick it up and JJ is yelling in the other side. “JJ calm down!”

“Sis I need you here right now. I’m alone and got this letter and I’m freaking out.”

“Okay, OKAY, I’ll come.” You hang up and turn back to Rafe. “Do you think you’d be ok for a few when I go handle something for my brother?

“I mean sure but I thought we’d celebrate.”

“Ok first rule of the “be a better man” journey is to know that when a sibling calls in distress saying they need you. They probably need you. That would’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”

Rafe looks at you with a blank stare. “Ok- go then. I’ve got V.” You’re shocked at the reaction. Not being able to tell if he was mad at it or not was difficult. You didn’t mean to throw in a little jab about the past. It’s just a good lesson for him to learn.

You lean down to give him a kiss. “I love you.” Looking deeply into his eyes. “Forever and always.” He returns back.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Meeting JJ at your old house feels strange. He’s standing in the living room, staring at a piece of paper and rubbing his head. He hadn’t explained anything on the phone, which left you uneasy, but seeing his disheveled state makes your anxiety spike.

“J? What’s going on? Where is everyone?” you ask, voice tight with worry.

“They’re out on the boat, taking care of Terrance’s body,” he mutters, barely looking up.

“Terrance? As in Cleo’s Terrance? What happened?”

JJ sighs, exhaustion lining his face. “Cleo got kidnapped. Terrance was involved but didn’t know who the target was. He tried to save her, and it got him killed. I’ll fill you in later, but I need you to read this.”

He hands you the letter. The first line catches your eye: “Master JJ Maybank. Don’t let that go to your head.” You laugh nervously, but JJ doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Genrette’s groundskeeper brought this to me,” he explains. “Said Genrette left it for me.”

The words on the letter blur as you try to piece together its meaning. “I think we need to find dad,” JJ say, your eyes dart back to him.

“Absolutely not. I’m not seeing him,” you snap.

“Good thing it’s not about you,” he counters. “He’s the only one who might have answers to whatever this is.”

JJ’s expression softens, and he nods reluctantly. “You’re right. Sorry. Any idea where he might be?”

“I have a hunch.”

Minutes later, you’re on JJ’s boat, slicing through the water toward Barracuda Mike’s house. When you arrive, Mike is in his yard fidgeting with a go kart, watching the approaching storm clouds.

“Hey, Big B, you know there’s a storm coming, right?” JJ calls out.

“Yeah, I see it,” Mike responds.

You hang back as JJ pleads with Mike for information on your dad’s whereabouts. Moments later, Mike sighs and mutters, “I’ll call you if Luke gets in touch.” Sending you both off to the dock.

JJ sets the phone on speaker as it rings. Luke’s familiar voice comes through, cautious and calculating, until he hears Mike’s dog bark in the background. Realization hits him too late.

“We gotta move,” JJ says, eyes wide. You both sprint back to the house and bang on the door. Mike steps out, irritation creasing his brow.

“Mike, I’ve got a daughter to get home to. Don’t waste my time with this bullshit,” you says, voice cracking under the strain.

“I’m a grandpa, huh?” Luke’s voice drips with smugness as he steps out, a twisted smile on his face. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Actually, you’re not,” you retort coldly. “She’ll never know you exist.”

Luke’s smirk falters, replaced by a fleeting shadow of disappointment. “That’s no way to talk to your old man,” he says, trying and failing to sound fatherly.

JJ shifts protectively in front of you, confronting Luke about his sudden reappearance and silence. You take a step back to the dock, needing space to process. Pulling out your phone, you FaceTime Rafe and V for a distraction. Rafe’s face lights up with a grin.

“Hey, when are you coming back? I’ve got something to tell you,” he says.

Before you can respond, the sound of sirens fills the air, and you see JJ and Luke sprinting toward the boat.

“Shit,” you mutter, forgetting you’re still on the call. “I gotta go. Bye, V. Rafe, I’ll call you later.”

JJ jumps in the boat with Luke behind him. “Take me home on the way,” you tell JJ firmly as you climb aboard.

Luke glances at you. “So, you’re a mom?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply flatly, not sparing him a look. “And don’t ask anything about her. You don’t deserve to know her.”

“It’s with that Cameron kid, isn’t it?” Luke chuckles, as if confirming a suspicion. “I always thought that’d happen—the way he used to sneak in and out of your window. And I knew that’s where you’d be when you disappeared. Good for you, little miss new Kook.”

You clench your jaw, holding back a response. As the boat nears your house, you quickly text Rafe: Home. Meet me at the dock.

When you hop off the boat, you wave to JJ as he drives him and Luke off. Rafe and V are already walking down to meet you. You pull them into a tight hug.

“So, what’s up?” you ask, sensing the weight in Rafe’s eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about everything,” Rafe begins. “I’m really sorry for all the shit at the beach. Pogue this, Pogue that. I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, tilting your head at him.

“I know,” he continues, “but I need to know we’re good. My dad was a Pogue; that shit doesn’t matter. What matters is I wanna be like him, hardworking and keeping this family together. I want to build things, be better, in my own way. I’m going to patch things up with my sister, and I want you there with me. When the deal with Hollis goes through, I’m keeping a piece for us. For the three of us.”

The thought of the deal makes you pause, the uncertainty gnawing at you. Rafe notices and takes your hand. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll make it work—you and me. I promise.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. With that reassurance, the three of you head inside, ready to face whatever comes next.

TBC

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