#That time I got sucked into the past and my dad had no idea who I was

[syoish-aot]

the best part of any reader insert isekai involving Levi Ackerman is when reader gets to look him in the eye and say "They haven't even invented the Swiffer WetJet yet, how clean could it be?"

[stars4gojo]

End of the world

Dad!Gojo x Fem!reader // Young Megumi and young Tsumiki // 1k words // fluff, angst if you squint. // Gojo and y/n are both teachers for first years

Your and Gojo’s three students are confused as to see why you and Gojo are walking past each other like you aren’t in love with each other as Megumi recalls yours and Gojo’s first serious fight infront of him.

More of my work 🤍

The three first year students at jujutsu high watched as their two teachers walked past each other as if they’ve never known each other. The usual silly jokes and overbearing affection between the two of you was nowhere to be seen and there was no doubt that the student were being wary of you two. 

Your usual kind demeanour was replaced by a cold hard stare that only seemed to show around Gojo. 

The students were not strangers to your bickering or little arguments but this one seemed different, as if someone had sucked all the warmth and love from the room only to replace it with heartbreak and angst. 

Nobara and yuuji quickly made their way to Megumi to ask him to explain why their two teachers, who seemed perfectly fine yesterday, were ignoring each other.

“Hey Megumi, what’s been going on with gojo and y/n?” Nobara whispered covering one side of her face with her hand as to prevent you and Gojo from overhearing.

“I’ve got no idea, I’ve never really seen them act this way either.” Megumi replied with a shrug.

“I’ve never really ever seen them fight this seriously either but they’re too in love with each other to let one fight end it.. right…?” Yuuji added with a slight frown on his face. 

“Well..There was this one time, a really long time ago where they both had a horrible fight.“ Megumi spoke softly putting emphases on the word ‘really.’

He looked over to Nobara and Yuuji who had an identically shocked face.

“I mean, I know not every relationship is rainbows and unicorns but really how bad was it?” Nobara spoke as her shocked impression settled down.

“I was really young back then so I can’t really remember the details but…” Megumi started speaking as his mind went back to that one night. 

Megumi recalls how one night, Gojo came home late, later than usual. He remembers how when you were preparing him and Tsumiki for bed your eyes couldn’t help but wander towards the clock that was hanging by the door. Even as a 10 year old he could tell your mind was full of worries. At the time, he was also aware enough to know why you were so worried. He can clearly recall how Gojo promised he would be home by dinner that day after skipping dinner for 3 nights in a row, you had accepted his promise with a tight lipped smile - the tension in the air was not gone unnoticed by the two children.

You were braiding Tsumiki’s hair while Megumi was drying his with a towel, you couldn’t help but notice how he’s catching onto Gojo’s habits, Tsumiki was humming a new song she learnt during her music lesson which was abruptly cut short as you finished braiding her hair. 

You called them both over so they could give you a goodnight kiss, Tsumiki went first and headed towards her room needing her alone time as a moody tween. 

As Megumi leaned over to give you a shy kiss on the cheek he paused in between and spoke softly, “Don’t worry he’ll be home.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at the kindness of the 10 year old. 

You gave him a toothy smile as you leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek instead, “Ofcourse he will! And I’m gonna beat his butt for being late again! You don’t worry about it, ‘kay?” You replied with a grin.

Which was responded by a loop sided smile and nod by Megumi as he whispered a goodnight slowly making his way to the bedroom. 

However, all your reassurances went to waste as Megumi woke up to a silent house, the usual lovey dovey atmosphere replaced by cold air.

Did Gojo forget to turn on the heating again? He wondered as he peeked through the kitchen to see you and Gojo in different corners of the room. Your usual humming replaced with silence as Gojo stole glances at you that you seemed to ignore.

Megumi looked at Tsumiki as if asking her what happened with his eyes, Tsumiki just shrugged as she played around with her food. 

Megumi took the seat next to her as he leaned into her ear asking, “Are they okay?” 

“They’ve been quiet since I woke up, i don’t know…but they love each other and they love us so it should be okay.”

Your heart broke at the mature conversation your 11 and 10 year old were having. 

“Oh shit! Look at the time.” Megumi heard Gojo shout as he dropped something in the kitchen.

“Well, don’t you care about being on time now.” You mumbled grudgingly only to be met with Gojo’s guilty eyes boring into your back. 

The entire conversation not going unnoticed by your children who seemed to just grow more worried by the minute. 

“Cmon kids pack your bags time to go! If you’re still hungry I’ll get food on the way. Quick quick quick!” Gojo shouted as he made his way to the living room clapping his hands.

As they were about to leave you went to bid them goodbye with a kiss, a routine you all gained after Tsumiki saw you giving Gojo a kiss everytime he left for missions which resulted in her shyly asking you to give her a kiss when she leaves home too. 

You kissed the children first and the kids held their breath when it was Gojo’s usual turn, and as you leaned into kiss him, the worried expressions turned into relief as they made eye contact with each other silently reassuring each other that everything would be okay. 

This is when Megumi realised that although the two of you may fight, and get upset it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. 

So now at age 16, Megumi watches you two ignore each other over a fight you will definitely be over in less than a few hours, he can’t help but grin.

“What are you laughing at?!??” Nobara questioned as she kicked Megumi on the shin.

“They’ll be fine, let’s just get back to training.” Megumi spoke as he got up making his way to the field.

Nobara and Yuuji watched Megumi from the back, “Will he not tell us about the fight?” Yuuji questioned.

“What do i know” Nobara answered, “Whatever, if he says they’ll be fine then they’ll be fine…let’s go!” She added.

[pintrestgrl]

best friends brother!Rafe x Reader (she's friends with Sarah) Rafe and reader decide to tell there families about each other since they've been serious for a while but their families already knew because they sucked at hiding it.

(also i seen 🪼anon claim an emoji so i thought i would do the same with💐because i gave you flowers when i told you i love your writing. if that's okay)

hiii 💐 anon !! and i love this idea !! also for ur other request, would you like reader to be a kook or pogue? you can just send me the answer in my asks and ill include it in the original ask idea !!

tysm for all the requests and follows and likes and everything !! i’m overwhelmed by all this but trying my best to get out at least 2 asks/ posts a day.

also i think this will be my last post for the day as ur girl is drained. i have 4 asks right now and will probably get out at least 2 tomorrow ! pls forgive me 🥹

enjoy !!

bestfriends brother!rafe x kook!reader.

you realized then, that sarah must’ve been the only one blind enough to see the love-filled relationship between you, and maybe that was for the best.

you and rafe first started secretly hooking up, completely lust filled nights, no feelings attatched.

but, after you had continued for a few months, you caught feelings.

he rejected the idea, opposed to any real and serious relationship with any girl. especially his sisters best friend.

you knew it was wrong to feel this way, knew you’d be betraying her trust. but, you couldn’t find yourself staying away from him.

however, he couldn’t deny the reciprocated feelings he had began having too. he found himself caring about you maybe a little too much.

so, he came to you one quiet, rainy evening and sat at your doorstep, confessing everything he had felt from you since the first time he got you in his sheets.

you both equally decided it was best to keep it hidden from his and your parents, and especially sarah.

he didn’t need her lashing out at him right now. so, you opted for sneaking kisses through your bedroom window, and staying out past curfew at the boneyard together.

after about 4 months of the secret rendezvous, things started getting serious. it wasn’t just young teenage infatuation anymore, it was love. real love.

your parents were both kooks, and close family friends as you and sarah were.

you decided to sit down with ward first, getting the harder action out of the way first. all 3 of you were sat in his study, nervously fidgeting around the leather seats.

“why’s she here? sarah’s out right now.”

“yeah, i know dad. can i just talk to you about something?”

“yeah. spit it out though, i have other stuff to do then sit here.”

rafe would slowly, but surely tell ward about how you two had feelings for eachother, and had for a while now.

he left out the part about how you had gained those feelings, though.

ward stayed silent for a moment, before laughing. you and rafe glanced at eachother in confusion, before hearing ward speak.

“yeah, no shit son. i know that. everyone knows that, besides sarah. she somehow hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“what? you know? and, who’s everyone?”

you’d blurt out, speaking out of turn in shock.

“of course i know. and so does rose, and your mother and father. it’s a common topic at dinner, really.”

“you’re serious, dad?”

“yes, i’m serious. now, i have better things to do then sit here and listen to you tell me something i already know.”

he’d grumble, still laughing to himself at how silly this situation was, standing up off the couch and exiting the room.

you and rafe were silent for a moment, before slowly starting to laugh to yourself at how bad you must’ve hid it.

[springgirlshowers]

How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

It’s So Sweet

Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)

CW: none!

A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333

masterlist!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.

Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.

Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.

You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.

Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.

Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.

It’s been years since you and him talked.

Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.

joostklein has requested to follow you.

His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.

You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.

His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.

Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.

It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.

The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.

After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.

You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.

You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.

You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.

However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.

“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”

“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”

“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”

“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"

Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.

He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.

The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.

You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.

You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.

“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.

“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.

“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”

“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.

“So, you told me you still dance.”

“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.

“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.

“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.

“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.

“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”

“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.

“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.

“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.

The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.

The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.

You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.

The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.

“So you’ll really dance with me?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.

“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.

“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.

“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”

“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.

“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.

“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”

“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.

“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.

“That’s great! You should take it!”

“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”

You nodded, getting up before he did.

“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.

“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“Awesome then, it’s a date.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the night courts justice

pairing: platonic!rhysand x reader

summary: rhysand learns your past traumas are more alike than he assumed.

Tw: MASSIVE trigger warning for r*pe being mentioned. Graphic, graphic violence. Feminine rage, unhinged female rage. Unhinged. 

Would like to preface: this is a work of fiction, uh, yeah. 

I know people write more detailed shit than I did however, I just wanted to give the violence disclaimer bc this is the most violent thing i've ever written (i usually just write fluff!)

Happy reading to my unhinged vengeful girlypops <3 

After you turned, you got bad. You had always struggled with depression, however the fae transformation increased that feeling. 

Rhysand noticed first because you were showing the signs that he did after under the mountain.

“You’re taking care of them, so they’ll be okay when you leave.”  He had approached you on the balcony.

You weren’t an idiot. “Sometimes, I do wonder what would happen if I just…” You waved your hands around. “Ceased.” 

“You wouldn’t see Feyre again.” His voice cracked. “She was what was keeping me from…ending it after I got back.” 

“I don’t know the extent of what happened to you.” You began, “but I can fill in the blanks.” 

“How so?” “From one rape victim to another, I can see the signs.” You simply stated.

It was silent and then, “Feyre found me that night.”  Your voice was a whisper in the wind.

He paused, he could feel the sorrow radiating off of you. You swallowed, “she found me abandoned in the woods, that’s where I was taken. At the time, we had no idea who it was, or where he was from. It was close to the wall. Hence how she found me. I had been there since the previous night. Missing for almost a whole day plus a night. She was hunting at night so people wouldn't get greedy when they saw her with prey. She brought me back to the cottage, her dad was asleep, Nesta woke up because I couldn’t get up the steps and she heard a bang.” You sucked in a deep breath, “I couldn’t get up the steps because….he had hurt me too badly.” He put a hand on your shoulder, he wasn’t one for physical affection like this with someone he barely knew, but he knew you needed it.

You didn’t push him away. 

“Fey and Nesta got me up the steps, it was the first time I had seen the two of them work as a team. They got me in the bath, cleaned up the blood that was staining my legs, my…everything.” 

He tried to keep his rage contained, however it was hard, you felt the air turn denser. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rhysand.” You laughed bitterly. “It’s over and done with.” 

“Do you want revenge?” 

You sighed, “Yes, which makes me terrible-”

“No it does not.” He hissed.

You shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” 

After a brief silence he asked, “You said, at the time. Who was it?” 

“He was from the Spring Court. Not Tamlin or Lucien. Or the guy that Fey killed. But now that I am here, and I have the heightened senses. I recognize the different courts, it’s the smell. He smelled like the Spring Court.” 

“Can I see what he looked like?” Rhysand asked. 

You nodded and let him into your mind.

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

During the war, it had completely slipped your mind that you had told Rhys about these things. Or rather showed him the face. Feyre had come back and then you were off fighting a war. Not too much time to dwell on things. 

But, one day you were called to “the torture chamber” as you called it, however Azriel disapproved even though he also agreed. He just didn’t like how blunt you were about it. 

“What is this?” You asked. 

That’s when you could smell it. The smell of dandelions and dewy grass. The smell that had haunted your nightmares long before Hybern had. You saw him tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, his mouth had a gag stuffed in it. Azriel was behind him, Rhysand off to the side and Feyre was behind you, she had come with you. But based off the look on her face, she knew all along. 

“You can either kill him or I will.” 

“Doesn’t this look bad, High Lord?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow. “If this gets out…” 

“Oh it can, I don’t particularly care, let them know I don’t tolerate anyone being raped, let alone someone in my court. Let Tamlin come and try to defend this.” 

“He’s an asshole, but he never raped me.” Feyre walked up and put a sword in your hands. “Gut him like a fish.” 

You took the sword, ready. You looked at him as he wept. “Do you remember me?” 

Silence. 

You lifted his head with the tip of the sword, drawing blood that trickled down the metal. 

Gods, nothing has ever looked so fun. 

“I said, do you remember me?” You asked in an innocent voice. 

He shook his head, screaming around the gag. 

You widened your eyes, mockingly, “you know I screamed that night too.” 

HIs eyes widened, you didn’t know if he was recognizing your scent, or if he had done this to multiple people and he’s trying to figure out which one you were. “You went across the wall, found an innocent sixteen year old girl. A child. You took me out there and you raped me. And then at the end, when I was crying into the dirt, begging for the Mother to put me to sleep so I would stop hurting; do you remember what you said?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer, so you shoved the blade in deeper, causing a bigger waterfall the color of revenge to cascade down the blade. “I asked a question.”

He shook his head. 

You let a cruel smile slip. “You said that with the way I was acting, I had it coming.” You laughed and his eyes widened. “And now, you’ll see what you’ve had coming all these years.” 

With that you moved the sword. He let out a breath, but then saw you go to the table and grab pliers. 

“How many people?” You asked starting with his finger, that’s when you saw the wedding ring. You laughed coldly. “What poor person did you trap?” 

He glared, you smiled and took the pliers and pulled off a fingernail. He screamed around his gag and it was music to you. “I ask again, how many?” 

He kept screaming, so you kept pulling. 

Once you started on the other hand, that’s when he stopped screaming and began nodding. “You’ll tell me?” You asked. 

He nodded so you removed the gag. “Nine.” 

You let out a laugh through your nose. Not a genuine one of course, but one that showed you were about to become even more angry. “Do you remember their faces?” 

He nodded and you looked at Rhysand, “if you’d ever be so kind. I want to pay them a visit.” 

To let them know their monster is dead, and he did not die a slow death. 

Rhysand nodded to let you know, he intruded the male's mind and then left the room with Feyre. 

He would show her their faces, she would draw from memory. Then you would find them to give them peace that he was dead. 

Only Azriel was left in the cell.

Then you smiled again, a twisted and evil one, “and now our fun begins.” 

That’s when you smelled the urine. 

And your smile grew bigger. 

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

The male was later found staked to a rock by the wall. An ice pick through his forehead and his hands, pinning him to the old stone. The word “rapist” was carved into his naked chest. All fingers were broken and nine teeth were pulled out of his mouth. 

Then a letter was sent to eight houses, explaining that their monster was dead and if they chose to, they could see what became of him by going to a certain spot. 

All eight showed up. 

Well nine but no one could see her. No one could see her or the High Lord of Night Court watching. 

“You feel better?” 

You sighed, “murder is bad, however I can rest easy knowing he’s dead.” 

“Yeah, you definitely know he is.” 

You snorted, “I may have had a bit of fun.”

“He definitely deserved it, the thing with his penis though was twisted.” 

You laughed outright at that. “That was Azriel’s touch.” 

Rhysand shuddered, “once again the guy deserved it, but Gods, you filet’d that thing.” 

“They’ll find it in the autopsy.” You shrugged, sipping your hot chocolate, that fought off the cold Sunday morning. 

He lifted his cup over for a cheers and you clinked, and both of you took a sip. “We’re fucked in the head aren’t we?” You said. 

He nodded, “Oh we definitely are. At least we’re surrounded by other fucked individuals.” 

“Cheers to that.” 

And once again you clinked mugs. 

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

The next day you were called into the Feyre and Rhysand’s office, part of you wondered if it meant that the mortals had connected the murder of the Night Court and now you’d have to pay for what you’d done. 

But when you walked in, Feyre was smiling genuinely. 

Rhysand gave her a loving look, “could you at least pretend it’s something bad just to mess with her?” He drawled teasingly. 

“She’s my best friend, she’d know I was lying.” Feyre responded as if Rhysand was dumb. 

Could confirm, you would know. 

“I thought I was your best friend.” Rhysand put a hand to his chest as if he was offended but you both could tell he was not. 

You and Feyre shared a look and rolled your eyes in unison. 

“Can I just know what’s going on?” You asked. 

“We want you to be the Night Court’s Justice.” “...Isn’t that what Azriel is for?” 

“Azriel is for collecting information on enemies. You will basically be an assassin for us.” Rhysand explained. “If you so desire.” 

“Who would I go after?” 

“Anybody that poses a threat to my family.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Someone hurts anyone, including you. Then you have our full permission to slit their throats.” He said. “Obviously, we’d give you assignments. When you don’t have assignments you’d be working alongside Azriel.”

You nodded and then went, “fuck it. Okay.” 

“You don’t want to think about it?” Feyre asked. 

“If I’m taking out people that are like the bastard I just killed, then I will do it. Rapists deserve nothing else.” 

Rhysand smirked, “welcome to the court.”

[bumblesimagines]

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all. let's set some ground rules. so… how do we do this? Sarah Cameron

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all.

let's set some ground rules.

so… how do we do this?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

and so the sequel becomes a holy trinity

Sarah Cameron was a pretty girl. Everyone knew it, whether they acknowledged it with awe, envy, or lust, everyone knew the Cameron genes worked like magic. The button nose, the full lips, the sun-kissed skin, the luscious hair that was a mix of blonde and brown strands, the dark brown eyes. The talk of the town, the pretty princess of Figure Eight, the beloved darling of the Cameron family. Sarah Cameron had no business being in the Cut. Hell, she had no business hanging out with JJ's troublemaking friends. She had no business seeking him out, and no business lying in the bed of a Maybank. Funny how the world worked, (Y/N) thought. 

Maybanks and Camerons weren't supposed to mix. They were from two different worlds. And yet...

Between the altercation between JJ and their father and Barry's rage over being jumped and robbed, (Y/N) had an ever-growing headache. He found himself glad JJ had beaten their father into near silence and fucked off before (Y/N) could get home, although he'd left him to patch their father up and deal with quiet, angered mutterings. His father luckily seemed either too exhausted or too drunk to bother him much, leaving him to spend his free day in his room listening to music while he gathered the will to get a Tylenol and step out into the world. He could use a drink or two or three. Maybe he'd stop by a bar and listen to Barracuda Mike's tales about his international dealings until the alcohol knocked him unconscious. 

Following in Daddy Dearest's footsteps. Typical.

His father staggered into the doorway, slamming his fist twice against the old wooden door with a sneer. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat and he tentatively paused the music, eyeing the subtle way his father swayed from side to side. Nobody could make him revert to childhood like Luke did, back when he'd cradle a crying JJ while JJ's mom and Luke got into screaming matches over one thing or the other. "Mind tellin' me why the hell there's a Cameron standin' on our goddamn porch? I don't want no problems with Ward, (Y/N)." 

"Jesus," (Y/N) exhaled, pulling the earbuds from his ears and standing up. "Which Cameron, Dad? The idiot or the chick?"

"The chick." Fuckin' Camerons. Fuckin' Sarah. "If Ward catches wind of his little girl strutting aroun' here half-naked-"

"What are you even talking about?" (Y/N) tossed his phone aside and sucked his teeth, slipping past his father and hearing those familiar heavy footsteps follow him to the front door. Sure enough, there stood Sarah Cameron, her head tilted out toward the marsh and arms folded over her bare stomach. Christ. 

"I want no problems. Understood, boy?" Luke hissed in his ear, moving past him and sparing the blonde a glance before he walked toward his truck. (Y/N) inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face, finding relief in the fact his father coincidentally needed to head into town under the guise of an errand, when they both knew Luke only ran 'errands' when he needed a hit of something strong. Probably needed something to take his mind off the bruises on his face. 

"I shouldn't have to explain why showing up here, on the Cut, dressed in a bikini top and shorts is a shit idea, Sarah." 

"I was going to the beach with some- whatever, it doesn't matter. I... I wanted to talk about the other day, alright? You know, when you basically yelled at me-" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Next time, instead of showing up, you get my number from one of the Pogues and you text me, alright? The guys my dad hangs out with call girls like you jailbait, Sarah. They're sleazy fucks who couldn't care less about where you come from." (Y/N) huffed, but regardless, he pushed the front door open enough for her to step inside, eyes following the cloud of dust left behind by his father's truck as it sped down the road. 

The Maybank's home was hardly anything to look at but (Y/N) managed to keep it clean, at least whenever Hurricane Luke didn't pass through. The general upkeep, and frankly everything else, fell on his shoulders with JJ gone half the time and Luke too intoxicated to care about the world around him. Just about every piece of furniture was old, passed down from Maybank to Maybank without so much as a repair or restoration. At the very least, trying to fix the broken things at a young age had given him some pretty decent skills. He couldn't do much about the holes in the walls and doors, though. 

"It's my day off, Sarah. I'd like to spend it without stressing over any of the bullshit that's been going on the past couple of days, 'kay? Say your piece and go off with your boytoy, princess. I want to have a beer in hand by noon so make it quick." (Y/N) sat back on the armrest of the worn couch, crossing his arms and watching the girl study her surroundings. Sarah slipped her tote bag off her shoulder and set it on another seat, leaning back against the barely used dining table. Great. Definitely wasn't going to be quick.

"I didn't appreciate you getting in my face, for starters. It was rude and unnecessary and I wasn't even given a chance to explain our side of the story. We found the gold in the Crain house and we went to your job thinking you were there. You weren't, obviously. The old lady and Barry were and they set us up. Barry held us at gunpoint and tried robbing us. We defended ourselves. JJ went rogue and robbed Barry. We told him not to." Sarah kept her arms crossed as she spoke, finishing with a light shrug and slightly jutted lips. "I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar, either. I wanted to set the story straight." 

"You could've found diamonds or emeralds or rubies in that old ass house, and I still would've been pissed about this treasure hunt continuing. Big John is dead and you know how he died? Treasure hunting. John B wants to die like his dad? Fine by me. I stopped liking him a long time ago. But JJ? The idiot that I spent my whole life raising? I'm gonna make sure that little shit dies of old age. If you want to merrily march into danger with Routledge, fine, go for it. Keep my brother out of it."

"Why do you keep bringing JB up as if I like him? I already told you John B isn't my boyfriend. He's my friend, and yes, I care about him. I-I want to see him happy and that's why I'm helping him but-"

"Is that the only reason you're helping him?" (Y/N) asked, rising from the armrest and taking slow steps toward the blonde. Her brows lifted slightly and her lips twitched, slowly curling upward into that little smile despite how much she tried resisting it. She looked away from him defiantly and clicked her tongue, eyes trailing back toward him.

"Are you suggesting I became friends with John B just to see you? Quite the ego you've got, Maybank. I said I liked you, not that I'm obsessed with you." Her voice softened, laced with playfulness and a hint of mischief, her previous irritation (if she'd even been irritated to begin with) long gone. 

"I was gonna say you wanted to piss off Carrera but if that's the first thing that came to mind..." He trailed off, hearing her scoff in soft disbelief before she swatted at his shoulder halfheartedly. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips slightly, peering up at him through her dark lashes. 

"You're a dick." She murmured, not nearly as offended as the last time she'd uttered those words.

"Yeah," He dipped down slightly, hands finding the back of her thighs and fingers digging into the warm plushness of her skin. Her hands landed on his shoulders, soft giggles leaving her as he lifted her onto the table, the wood creaking softly under the added weight. One hand slid up from his shoulder and curled around his neck, the tip of her nails slightly scraping against his skin. Sarah's skin flushed. "And the sky's blue."

"But what else is new, right?" Her lips stretched out into a smile before she leaned in, pressing them against his as his hands moved from her thighs to her hips, half his palms pressing against her skin and the other half against her denim shorts. He pulled her closer until she'd gone flush against him, her legs wrapping loosely around him. Her arm curled around his shoulder and her head tilted to the side, a muffled, flustered giggle leaving her when his teeth lightly dug into her bottom lip. His hand moved and pressed flat against her exposed back, trailing upward until his fingers found the bottom straps of the olive green bikini. With one swift tug, they went undone. 

There was a dizzying aspect to making out with a Cameron, he'd come to realize. Maybe it was the knowledge that her father could be considered one of the most influential men on the island or that his life could change for better or worse with just a word from her. It was an intoxicating feeling if he had to be honest. Sarah seemed to feel similarly considering her fingers dug into him and pulled him as close as possible, her breath escaping her in soft pants. She leaned back briefly and pulled her hands away, dipping them under her hair and undoing the straps keeping the bikini on her. She tossed it aside blindly and mushed their lips together again, arms coiling around him and body slightly lifting itself onto him. His hands returned to her thighs and he lifted her again, letting muscle memory kick in as he found his way back to his bedroom.

He really needed to stop hanging out with the Pogues. They were messing with his judgment.

At the very least, he'd spent his free day doing something fun, even if regret began to dig into his back. He was a Maybank. He lived up to the asshole playboy part of his family's reputation 'cause there was nothing better than messing around to take the stress off, but he never enjoyed toying with someone's heart. He'd made a rule in middle school after his first heartbreak to never knowingly get involved with anyone who actually liked him. The first time with Sarah hadn't broken that rule but now... 

"Can I ask what we are or will that ruin your mood?" Sarah's voice piped up, her lips dragging lightly over his shoulder. His fingertip ran up and down her spine, feeling the goosebumps along her skin while he stared at the ceiling. It felt grounding to have weight pressing him against the bed, even if it was Sarah Cameron of all people. 

"I just like having sex with you sometimes. That's all." He answered and she shifted, hands planting themselves on either side of his head and body lifting itself up slightly. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, the ends tickling his cheek. 

"Sometimes?" She repeated with an arched brow. "You want to do this more often?"

"You're not bad for a virgin." He murmured. 

"Not one anymore, remember?" 

"Yeah, I remember." His hand moving along her back dipped under the covers that'd pooled around her hips, squeezing the skin hiding underneath. She flushed immediately and lowered herself back onto him, burying her warmed face in his neck and huffing. "You were pretty loud-"

"Okay." She groaned and lifted her head again, her reddened cheeks puffed out slightly. "So… how do we do this? Have you done this before?"

"Yeah, until she and I had a pregnancy scare. It was enough to make us block each other." (Y/N) answered, pushing himself up slightly and against the wall behind his pillows. Her legs tangled around his further, and her eyes widened at the revelation. "Let's set some ground rules. I'm going to give you my number and you'll use it whenever you want to see me. If anyone asks, it's just to keep in touch about JJ. Routledge probably thinks you've got the hots for him so I'd prefer if you didn't tell him or Thornton. Let those two go at each other. If you want to be spontaneous like today, you bring protection. I really don't need a little bastard running around right now." 

"I've been on birth control since freshmen year. Rose insisted on it."

"Good for you. My mom was on it when she decided to fuck around and find out and here I am now." He raised his brows at her. "Anyways... don't get your hopes up for anything, Sarah. I mean it. If you don't think you can handle it, that's fine. We're supposed to be having fun, not getting hurt by disappointment."

[katebishopsbow]

SOMETHING UNHOLY • NEYMAR JR (part i)

pairing: neymar jr x reader (18+)

summary: while babysitting davi, you went up to neymar’s room to get something for the two of you to play with. it turns out that the room wasn’t empty, and you ended up catching neymar doing something unholy.

tags: explicit sexual content (minors dni), voyeurism, jerking off, choking, praise kink, sir kink, age gap, dirty talking, finger sucking, dom!neymar, babysitter!reader, no mentions of y/n

word count: 2.8k

(gif is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

An excited squeal was heard before the front door flew open, revealing an ecstatic Davi sprinting toward you to greet you with a crushing hug. “You’re finally here!” he giggled with his face burrowed in your shirt, and you patted the back of his head comfortingly as you told him with a smile, “It’s great to see you too, buddy!”

Upon entering the house, Davi began bombarding you with everything that had happened in his life for the past few weeks, from the science fair he won with his exploding slime experiment, the pretty girl who confessed to him at school, the new video game he received from his mom, to the luxurious fishing trip his dad had taken him over the weekend. 

Being the babysitter of Neymar’s kid had its benefits - one of which was the high-paying salary. It paid relatively well compared to the other babysitting jobs you were offered, in fact, it paid so well that this single part-time job was enough to support all your daily expenses and cover part of your tuition fee. And while you initially accepted the job because of the money, you eventually decided to stay because of Davi.

And also because of Neymar - but that’s beside the point.

“Then Dad belly-flopped into the lake! It was awesome!” Davi’s smile is infectious, his genuine excitement about all the little things in life would always fill you with a sense of serene happiness, and sometimes it felt like he was more of a friend than a kid you babysat for. “Well, your dad’s always been awesome,” you chuckled quietly while switching on the TV, surfing through the channels until Davi’s favorite program was on.

Though the boy was quick to interject. “I don’t want to watch TV today… Let's play football together!” he suggested, his voice laced with so much glee and excitement that you didn’t have the heart to say no to him, even though you had absolutely zero agility and were terrible at football. “Alright, I’ll get the football for us…” you pretended to sound unimpressed, but soon broke out into a wide smile when Davi jumped up from his seat with a victorious chant.

“There’s a football in my dad’s bedroom, he said I could play with it if I want.” You contemplated for a while, unsure if it was a good idea to enter Neymar’s bedroom. While he should have been at practice at this hour, meaning that his room was probably empty, the thought of entering his room just seemed like a violation of his privacy.

But before you could ask Davi if he could get the football himself, he had already sprinted off toward the backyard, leaving you all alone in the living room as he yelled out eagerly, “I’ll wait for you outside!” Not wanting to rain on the kid’s parade, you let out a defeated sigh and got up from the couch.

 “I’ll just go in and out. I’ll not touch anything or look at anything inside,” you mumbled under your breath as you made your way up the stairs, trying to convince yourself that this was no big deal. You were only going into Neymar’s room to get the football for Davi - a fully justified reason. And just like Steve Harrington once said, “I’m stealthy, like a ninja.” You’ll go inside, grab the football, and leave - nobody would even notice you were there.

It was all going to be fine.

Walking down the hallway until you reached the room at the very end, you twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

It was not going to be fine.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw in that room. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when your eyes landed on Neymar, sitting shirtless on his bed with his trousers unzipped, hands wrapped around his length as he pumped himself at a steady pace. The way his face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed together like he was nearing his release, and then the next second his eyes flew open and he was looking at you in utter shock.

Everything was happening so fast that your brain literally short-circuited, like your entire body had shut down and rebooted itself. Every muscle within you screamed at you to flee the room, to get the heck out after walking in on such an intimate moment of his - but almost as if your legs had stopped working, you couldn’t bring yourself to move an inch.

All you could do was stare at him, eyes wide and mouth hung open like a deer caught in headlights. Neymar’s hand came to a halt, his facial expression just as dumbstruck as yours, and you had to force yourself not to glance down at the fingers still wrapping around his hardened length.

You blinked once, twice, and finally were able to collect yourself the best that you could manage. “Sir, I’m so sorry for coming inside your room unannounced. I was just here to get something, and I— I didn’t know that you were going to be in here— normally you’d be at practice so…” you began to ramble, strings of words spilling out of your mouth as you frantically tried to apologize.

“I’m just really really sorry, sir,” you apologized one last time, shoulders slumped and head hanging low from the unbelievable amount of embarrassment you were feeling, and also because you wanted to avoid looking at him and his exposed body. Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited for Neymar to say something, anything. 

You expected him to scream at you to get out, to lash out at you for entering his room without knocking, to kick you out of the house for violating his privacy like this. But when he stayed silent, not uttering a single word or exploding in anger like you expected him to, confusion began to gnaw at your mind and the silence became unsettling.

Your name suddenly fell from his lips in a hushed whisper, his voice raspy and laced with a strange, unexplainable tone. The call of your name made you glance up, and what was once a look of surprise and puzzlement on his face was now replaced with one of desire - his lips pulled up in a slanted grin, half-lidded eyes gazing into you like he had something sinister in mind, and you could feel your insides stirring when his hands began stroking up and down again.

“Lock the door and come over here,” Neymar whispered in a hushed voice, and while his words were soft and gentle, underneath them all was hiding a sense of authority, so firm and unmoving that you couldn’t help but comply. His piercing gaze never once left you as you turned to shut the door, clicked the lock shut, and slowly walked over to his bed. “Sit.” One word was enough to make you listen, taking a seat on the corner of his bed as if your body was on autopilot.

The rational side of you would’ve made you leave the room ages ago, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, not when he’s looking at you with unbridled hunger. All you could do was follow his orders and do exactly what he said, like a girl possessed, hypnotized by all that he had, blinded by the need to find out what would happen if you stayed.

Feeling the tension in the air, you swallowed nervously as you desperately tried to figure out what exactly was happening, eyes flickering between his face and the slow pumping of his hand. “Fuck…” he hissed out through gritted teeth, his piercing green eyes now distant and cloudy with lust. “Now watch.”

Every passing second made it harder for you to breathe, to sit still when Neymar’s pleasuring himself right in front of you, and it was damn near impossible to comprehend the fact that he had asked you to stay and watch. Tightening his fingers around his length, he squeezed his throbbing cock as he thumbed his slit in teasing strokes, gathering the precum that had spilled out.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of bending you over and fucking you inside this house,” he exhaled a shaky breath, smirking at the way your breath hitched as the sinful confession fell from his lips. “I’m a sick piece of shit, right? For thinking of my son’s babysitter this way,” he chuckled, but the way his voice sounded didn’t seem like he was at all guilty. 

Words didn’t need to be said for the two of you to know that this was wrong. From the fact that he was jerking off in front of you, the unholy thoughts that he always had whenever you come over, to how you were enjoying all of this no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise. 

Neymar was years older than you. He was in his thirties and you were still in college. He was a world-class football player and you were an ordinary college student still trying to navigate life. Most importantly, he was a father, and you were his son’s babysitter. Your relationship never should have exceeded that, but it did, with him splayed out in his bed, admitting all the filthy thoughts he had of you while you watched him. 

This was wrong - all of this - but neither of you wanted this to stop.

“But you like this shit, don’t you?” he asked you with a knowing glint in his eyes, and the smirk on his lips only seemed to grow wider. You couldn’t find the words to answer him, any sort of coherent thoughts had longed become muddled up inside your head. Though you didn’t have to, because he already knew your answer from the way your breathing picked up and your thighs clenched together. 

“I bet…” he choked out as his head tipped backward, letting out a deep groan while speeding up his hand. “I bet you’d let me fuck you if I asked.” A little gasp escaped your lips, bright eyes flickering with a lustful gleam he had only imagined in the darkest hours of the night. You stayed quiet, nibbling on your lips to prevent the whine lodged in your throat from coming, and that’s all it took for Neymar to know that your answer was a definite yes.

“You’ll let me come inside like a good fucking girl too, won’t you?” The thought alone was enough to make you whimper, clenching your thighs together needily as arousal pooled at the pit of your stomach. Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing the sinful images to plague your mind - god, how you wished those thoughts were reality instead.

You wondered how his lips would taste like, what his reaction would be if he could feel how soaked you were right now, if he would feel as good as you imagined it to be when he finally slid himself inside you, and how he would look when he finally reached his release, emptying himself deep inside you until you milked him of his very last drop. There was nothing you wouldn’t give for all of this to come true, for him to just touch you where you needed.

Fingers suddenly clasped around your throat, pulling you out of your erotic trance and dragging you back to reality - even though the reality you were in seemed more like a fever dream. “Use your words. Yes or no?” he demanded, and he couldn’t help but admire how good you looked with his hands around you - so good for him, so sweet and breedable.

“Yes, sir,” you answer with a soft whimper, head nodding urgently at his previous question while you relish the firm grip on your neck. “Good girl,” he praised you with a smile before releasing his hold on you. There was a warmth that lingered on your skin even after he had let go, and a part of you wished he had kept his hands there longer, that he had squeezed tighter.

“I bet you’d feel so good wrapped around me… and you’ll let me do whatever I want to you…” He continued to pump himself, cock twitching at the sight of you before him - rosy cheeks and glassy eyes, so worked up and so desperate for him to just touch you. “Please…” you huffed out a pathetic plea, hands gripping tightly on the sheets below you, praying that he would do something to ease the aching need between your thighs.

He smiled - not a friendly one, but the same damned teasing grin he always had on - and had the audacity to coo at you as if he thought you were the cutest thing on earth. “Be patient, baby…” You tried to be patient, you really did, but your patience was running low and you were genuinely going to cry if he didn’t touch you soon. 

A few more rough tugs on his cock and he knew he was nearing his orgasm. “Fuck… gonna come…” he grunted out, rocking his hips up unrhythmically to meet his fist as the bed started to shake. All that could be heard inside his bedroom was the wet squelching of him jerking his cock, the quick and shallow breaths of you both, and the broken moans that rumbled in his throat with each frenzied stroke.

“Sir, please.” That simple sentence was enough to shatter him into a million pieces. A pleasured groan pushed past his teeth as his hips thrust up one last time, body seizing up as jolts of electricity coursed through him in waves of pure ecstasy. You weren’t even touching him, but all he could feel was you - everything else faded into darkness.

White ropes of come spilled from his cock, getting all over his skin and dirtying the white sheets below him. His mouth fell agape, throwing his head back as your name fell from his lips like a mantra, calling you again and again until he completely emptied himself into his fist.

You watched as he fell apart in front of you, refusing to take your eyes off him even for just a second while he drowned in the endless sea of pleasure. “Fuck… that felt so good,” he spoke in a soft murmur, stroking his cock lazily as he collected some of the come splattered on him with his fingers.

Leaning closer to you, he lifted his hand to your lips and pushed his fingers inside your mouth, groaning with satisfaction at the sinful sight - your lips wrapped around him, so good for him, so eager to please. “There you go, my good little girl…” You moaned at the praising nickname he had for you, twirling your tongue around him and enjoying the taste of him.

A strange silence fell upon both of you after he pulled out his fingers, neither of you was saying anything and all you could hear was your own heartbeat drumming in your ears and the ragged breath of Neymar. You could feel his stare on you, dragging his gaze down to your lips, and you wondered if he was going to kiss you.

He leaned in, so close to you that you could almost feel his hot breath fanning against your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut instinctively, but instead, he tilted his head and placed a chaste kiss on your left cheek. 

“I’m off to practice now,” he whispered into your ear, voice low and raspy, and proceeded to get up from his bed. You looked at him with utter confusion, the gears in your head still turning as you struggled to process what exactly had just happened. Was he seriously going to leave? Right now? What about you? 

The ache between your legs only seemed to grow, and the frustration building in your chest was beginning to grow as well, really quickly. “But… Sir…” you tried to think of something, but had no idea what you were even supposed to say in a situation like this.

The smirk evident on his face meant that he knew exactly what he was doing, and was well aware of how mean he was being to you, but he was doing it nonetheless. “Keep being a good girl for me, and maybe next time I’ll give you a little reward.” Sending you a wink, he pulled on his jersey and exited the room.

This motherfucker.

[javier-pena]

back in july, i started a little monthly fic rec project and then immediately life got in the way of me reading fics and i had to skip august and september. so this list isn't just fics i read in october but also fics i read during the other two months.

that being said, i sure read some absolutely life-changing stories these past few months and i'm so so excited for more people to discover these fics! please check the warnings on the stories before reading them and please please let the authors know that you loved their work!!

i’m also always looking for fic recommendations, so feel free to send me your favorites!

billy butcher (the boys)

fucking diabolical by @macfrog

you move in across the street. butcher notices.

logan howlett/wolverine (x2)

all's fair in love and viscera... by @sceletaflores

logan wants to spar...

oberyn martell + dave york (game of thrones/the equalizer 2)

gold rush by @guiltyasdave

“you like him, princess?” oberyn asks, a grin obvious in his tone. you nod silently, your eyes still trained on the man behind the boat’s steering wheel. “so do I.” 

joel miller (the last of us)

a helping hand by @toomanystoriessolittletime

Living in your best friends house while yours is getting renovated leaves you getting to know her husband Joel better. After finding out your husband is cheating on you, and learning Joel is about to serve his wife with the divorce papers, a drunk midnight phone sex call from your husband leaves you and Joel to finally give in to your growing feelings for each other.

a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike

a mysterious man with a motorcycle saves you from a terrible date.

bad habit by @strang3lov3

After Joel catches you smoking, he gives you something else to put between your lips.

brat! by @shellshocklove

joel is having a brat summer.

decode by @tonysopranosrobe

joel really loves doing favours for you. like hiring you as a babysitter and teaching you how to suck dick.

do your worst, little dove by @mountainsandmayhem

joel lets you take charge for once.

heavenly bound by @ozarkthedog

the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.

inhale, exhale by @sp00kymulderr

this world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

my kink is karma by @alltheirdamn

your boyfriend breaks up with you, so you decide to get revenge ...

shhh...just a little bit more, part three by @mountainsandmayhem

joel miller caught you working where you shouldn’t be after you promised to quit. now he’s taking matters into his own hands.

frankie morales (triple frontier)

sit back, baby by @almostfoxglove

you’ve got a crush on your neighbor across the hall and finally get the chance to show him you care.

take you to the hilltop, and tell you you're pretty by @jolapeno

you book a guided hike tour for one when on your trip, not at all expecting your guide to be so damn hot.

frankie morales + santiago garcia + benny miller (triple frontier)

in the woods by @tonysopranosrobe

a camping trip with your boyfriend frankie and his friends takes a turn when you stumble upon a mysterious substance in the woods.

javier peña (narcos)

like a fever by @pedgito

there’s sweaty javi p and office sex, that’s all you need to know.

the man who has returned home by @jolapeno

this week’s sex diary - the man who has returned home

unscripted desire by @gothcsz

you’re a camerawoman that shoots pornos. javier peña is the pornstar you can’t stand. why is it that you’re always so affected by him?

dave york (the equalizer 2)

a long time coming by @guiltyasdave

you were supposed to go to a concert with your best friend. you end up going with her dad instead.

my own fic from october :)

three's a crowd (frankie morales + joel miller)

you’re in love with frankie and he is in love with you, but you both have no idea how to act on it. until joel miller comes along.

[lazypanartist]

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection.

Features personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's just self indulgent. Also! Roommate Gwen?

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

-----

"Who's she?"

You barely whisper the question to your boyfriend, peeking past the dividing wall between kitchen and living room. He glanced up from whatever he's cooking - eggs, probably - to look at the girl flopped across your couch.

"Oh. That's Gwen. Spider-Woman from another universe - she needed somewhere to crash, so I offered her our couch."

Our. The word still made you fuzzy inside, even after he dragged his stuff into your life a month prior.

Even with the warm and fuzzies, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was a bit.. off.

"The new recruit you took a shine to."

He hummed a quiet affirmation, his eyes meeting yours after a second.

"There's nothing going on, I promise."

"You don't have to promise." He wouldn't do anything stupid, that much you knew for sure. Still.. "You don't normally trust people so fast. Not enough to bring them here."

He turned back to you, handing you a plate with a pancake and silently gesturing for a clean plate. "She's.. cool. I dunno. Not like the rest of the people in the Spider Society. Reminds me more of you, actually."

You blinked.

"Home life trash, emancipated at fifteen, got a lot of stupid jobs to stay afloat and support an artisan hobby?"

He chuckled, bumping your hand gently with his own as he takes the plates - plural - from your hand. "Not quite. Her old man tried arresting her." You suck in a breath, and he nodded. "Thinks she killed a family friend. That's why she joined up - the dad, not the friend."

He fans the plates slightly. "Two?"

You shrug, head tilting towards the couch. "Well. She probably needs to eat when she wakes up."

He smiles, and you can't help but return the gesture.

"She's already wearing off on you."

"Yeah, well, I've only heard good allegations."

You lean forward to land a peck on his lips before opening the fridge, and you hear a huff when you turn from him.

"I hope she can help with groceries or something."

He laughs full heartedly at your grumble this time. You feel him approaching before he's actually touching you, his chest - finally healed - pressing gently against your back as he helps you search for pancake toppings.

You lean back into him before grabbing a container of fruit, and he helps you pull away and shut the door before he's back at the stove, flipping the next cake over.

"Well. She might be able to help at the next show."

You nod, grabbing a spoon and scooping some of the fruit onto your pancake.

"The one with the sale?"

He nods with a quiet hum. "She might have patch ideas or something."

You look her over from the distance, her vest catching your eye.

"Yeah.. she has good style."

You can almost feel him look past you before he's laughing, eyes catching the same piece you had been looking at.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah.. if she's stealing my stuff, she's gotta."

You can't help but laugh with him again, looking at your new guest-slash-apparent roommate.

"You steal my stuff all the time."

You nod gently, smiling. "Yeah.. she'll fit right in."

---

Part 4

[syoish-aot]

This is the first time I've ever written Erwin and I-

(modern verse, reader is the teenage daughter of Erwin and Levi, Levi does not approve of her dating Eren)

"What exactly is a... raw dog?"

Someone save this man from himself.

Reader is so fucking sassy and I adore her.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the water heater

lilac, chapter three

a/n: ...don't ask me how late it got when i wrote this.... i was on a roll that day and time just turned into a weird soup.

summary: “Dad, please, for the love of god, just–,” you spun around, though the unexpected figure that stepped into the low light caused your fury to fade away in an instant, “oh, uh, you’re not–, uhm, h-hi.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, totally inaccurate description of tinkering with a water heater just for the sake of making them fall in love

word count: 1137

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Well, maybe if you just–”

“Dad! Just–…” you swallowed the rest of the heated statement that nearly escaped your lips, mentally counting to three before glaring back at the man who was breathing down your neck, “do you remember when I was 12 and you had the clever idea of attempting to install that new sink in room 5?”

Already knowing where this story was gonna go, Harvey quietly replied, “…yeah…”

“And just who, pray tell, fixed it after you made the pipes uncontrollably spurt out water, consequently flooding the entire room?”

“…you did…”

“That’s right,” you sucked on another tense breath before continuing, “so, unless you’ve somehow improved that skill since then, which, I’m sorry dad, but I highly doubt that you have, please, just let me handle it alone.”

“…alright, fine,” he ultimately backed off, nearing the basement stairs, “but I’ll be right up by the front desk if you need me.” 

“I won’t,” you called over your shoulder as you redirected your attention to the hopeless pipes, “but thanks.”

Letting the illuminated spot from the small flashlight clutched in your palm guide your vision, you checked each and every rusty tube. 

After too many pokes and prods, you finally found the source of the problem. Stepping over towards the main pipeline you bend down and reached through tickling cobwebs to turn the paint-chipped knob clockwise, shutting all of the water off.

Before your spine managed to straighten back out, you felt your blood begin to boil as you heard the sound of heavy footsteps once again ascending the crooked staircase.

“Dad, please, for the love of god, just–,” you spun around, though the unexpected figure that stepped into the low light caused your fury to fade away in an instant, “oh, uh, you’re not–, uhm, h-hi.”

“Hey,” Pete’s deep voice echoed throughout the dim space, sounding the way that hot chocolate felt. 

“Uh, not that I’m not thrilled to see you here, in my basement of all places, but, um, what are you–, what can I help you with?” 

“Nothing ma'am,” he took a step closer, “it’s what I can help you with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, Harvey sent me down here to take a look at something.”

“Oh, did he now…” that was the last you needed in order to lose your patience.  

“Yeah,” Pete’s eyes tracked your form as you riffled through the open metal toolbox and yanked out a wrench. 

“Well,” you huffed as you began to loosen the various hexagon-shaped fittings snug on the pipes spiderwebbing out from the bulky water heater apparatus, the labour of the task presenting itself in your vexed voice, “you can tell my dad that I’m still just fine and don’t need any help!” the tool on your palm then inadvertently slammed against one of the pipes, the clanging and therapeutic blow snapping you enough out of your ire to take a step back. Squeezing your eyes shut a moment, you let out a deep sigh before parting your lips once more to speak, “I’m sorry, it was very kind of you to offer your help, but I’m okay.” 

Fully expecting him to just take off, his stationary stance caught you off guard, “so, the water heater’s acting up?”

“It’s fucking ancient, that’s what it is,” you replied as you returned to twist the remainder of the fittings, “should have updated it long ago, but no, no, that never happened,” you continued to grumble mostly to yourself at this point, “of course it’s much more fun to let me handle it down the line when the hot water outlet is completely rusted over and clogged up to the point of no return, you know, that’s just so much more fun…” your words then faded away as you attempted to turn a knob that in no way wanted to corporate.

Quietly cursing underneath your breath, you tried to put all your weight into it as you strained to turn the stuck fitting. 

But just then, from out of nowhere, you felt the wrench begin to turn, but that victory wasn’t the only thing you suddenly felt. Engulfing your own, the comparatively massive hand of Pete enveloped yours as if it wasn’t even there to begin with, helping you turn it as though the metal was made out of butter. 

Blinking up at him after it finally twisted completely, his intimidating stature seemed even more towering up close. 

“Uh,” you slipped your hand out from under his calloused palm, “thank you…”

“No, problem,” you promptly whirled around to avoid his piercing gaze, busying yourself by riffling through the toolbox without any purpose whatsoever, “so your old man’s not helping you out in renovating this place?”

“Well, he’s brilliant at a lot of things, but those skills in particular have never really been in his bailiwick–, wait…” you kept your back turned to him as you asked, “how do you know that I’m renovating?” 

“People in this town like to talk, a lot,” he breathed out the essence of a laugh, “and that includes your father.”

“Ah, okay…”

Spinning around once again, you kept your eyes steadfast on the dusty pipes, though after what only felt like a second, Pete unexpectedly proposed, “hey, what do you say I lend you a hand?”

“What?” 

“Well,” hands clasped together in front of him, the digits on one of them dug into the palm of the other as he spoke, “I’m no stranger to fixing things, so it might help make it fly by a bit faster than if you try and get through it all on your own.”

Unable to detect if this was just some strange joke or not, you verified, “I’m sorry, but are you legitimately offering me your help in renovating this place right now?”

“Yes.” 

“Seriously?” you bellowed a little louder than you’d intended, earning just a small nod from him in confirmation, “I–…” you blinked back at him, downright dumbfounded, “that’s incredibly generous of you, but I can’t really afford to hire you right now…”

“Oh, I’m not asking you to hire me, just let me help out a bit.”

“Pete, I can’t let you do that, not without any form of compensation.”

“Well, then just pay me in free coffee till it’s done,” he attempted to joke, though it didn’t manage to crack a smile on your lips. 

“This is not funny, Pete.”

“No, it’s not,” he continued, still in a startlingly light-hearted tone, “you clearly don’t know yet just much coffee I tend to drink on average every day,” seeing you not budge an inch, he then dropped the attempt with a gentle nod, “fine, how about we just take a look at a price at a later date? Decide on it later when it’s all done, and you start making a profit again?” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[crushedsweets]

I would like to ask if the creepypastas know what happened to each other? Like do Tim and Brian know what happened in Toby’s and Kate’s childhood/past? And if they do know how did they find out?

some do!! this kinda half-assed answers your question cuz i included all 16, so its kinda difficult to cover everyone neatly!

for kate... i dont think anyone but toby and MAYBE clocky/nina would know what happened to her. she doesnt want to talk about it at all, and toby would only find out by connecting the dots of random stuff shes said.

i think toby is pretty open about what happened to him. he'd be very quick to make jokes or casually be like "yea i got the shit bullied out of me". so people are familiar, HOWEVER i dont think a lot of them really understand how bad it was for him bc hes so casual with it. i think tim and brian probably caught toby losing him mind, having nightmares, screaming and he'd be like "you dont get it you dont fucking know the shit that happened to me" etc etc. with clocky or kate or EJ, he'd be SLIGHTLY more vulnerable. tell them about lyra and connie, but he's just uncomfortable with that stuff

tim wouldnt really want to talk about his childhood or everything he lost either. i think he'd only bring it up with toby in the event that toby needed comfort, or something to ground/relate to (i.e hospital visits, schizophrenia, loss) OR if someone implies tim has it better than them. then he's like WHAT the fuck do you think you know about me. otherwise he rather not.

brian is pretty similar. he just doesnt wanna talk about it. brushes things off pretty easily, tries to joke about it, or he says something like "it sucked but im here now. gotta keep pushing, why dwell". . .

clockwork keeps that shit to her chest. the most she'd bring up is like "yea i grew up poor, dad was a nutcase, i dont wanna talk about my brother" or implying other people have it easier than she did (which is true 90% of the time. she had it rough). i think only toby and nina would get a better idea of what really happened to her, but she just doesnt like to think about it. itd be a similar case where they catch her having a panic attack or nightmare and she chokes something out .

nina spills everything she doesnt really care. she likes to talk and share and spill her guts, so everyone is pretty familiar with all her ex boyfriends, workaholic parents, getting bullied, whatever. shes a bit more hesitant to bring up certain things that SHE'S done (cheating, cyberstalking, self harm, etc) but she'll happily share times she was a victim to others

EJ would share about his family very freely, and i think if someone asked, he'd tell them about jenny. so i guess it just depends on who cares to ask ? toby, clocky, maybe tim/brian would. jeff and ben might ask like "hey why are you ugly now" and he would not tell them . cuz he needs whoever he tells to ask genuinely and treat it seriously

similar to nina, jeff just yaps and yaps and goes off about how hard he had it (completely warping the story and lying half the time). so he'll just bring it up to brag or compare or compete or prove a point, but its never done very.. vulnerably?

ben doesnt talk about any of it. most of the group knows, because his case (yk, 13 yr old boy kidnapped and murdered amongst several other young teens..) got really big and everyone kinda talked about it without him. he doesnt want pity or to think about it. he'd only bring it up with sally, i think, cuz he feels a bit more seen by her

sally would only tell jane and clocky. i genuinely cant see a reason she'd ever bring it up to anyone else, and those two are the only ones she'd trust (and mary but marys not that big in my au)

jane tells people pretty openly, because she was a victim of jeffs stalking. she tries to make her story more...inspirational? because after all her pain and loss, she still went to law school and all of that. or if someone tries to diminish her pain, she'd be like 'watch your mouth.' i think she'd tell nina and liu. for nina, it'd be like "you dont even care do you? you still love that man after everything? how can you look me in the eye, knowing all he's done, and tell me you idolize him?" and for liu it would be more about like. closure maybe? part of her resents liu even though it was NOT his fault whatsoever and he's also a victim, but shes mature enough to try and navigate the trauma WITH him despire her pain

for liu its kinda similar, but nothing is inspirational. he would tell people because for him, its how he connects to people. connecting on trauma, even if its not the healthiest way. . . if someone asks, he tells them. its kinda sad the way he talks about jeff though. 'i just miss pushing my little brother on the swing'

dina screams and screams at everyone about "YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IVE LOST" because she was held in such a idolized position in her cult. she hates lazari and she blames everyone else because she thinks they have something to do with the devil(zalgo) and thats why god doesnt want her anymore.

lazari would cry to EJ about her nightmares of her mom, but i dont think she'd talk about it with others. it just makes her sad. maybe she'd tell jeff cuz he'd be asking and then He'd belike oh. jeez. ok. LOL. that sucks.

lulu doesnt really remember what happens to her, but everyone has an idea. she mumbles about hazing, how cold the water is, how she doesnt wanna drink again, how the sorority girls are so mean, she just wants to go back to her dorm, whatever. but its just because shes so lost in her mind

ann is more like ... sassy . brags about her redroom business and whatnot, complains about the man who killed her, gets all sultry about kate saving her from her big bad killer, whatever. but she doesnt talk about her family or how she was a femcel neet.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Well you do enough talk, my little hawk

Warnings: different forms of abuse, dad!Soldier Boy, bro!Homelander, sis!Reader, children using weapons, training lil monsters, sister complex, brother complex, these two kids have such a bleak life :(

Words: 1339

Summary: Soldier Boy would not allow either of his kids to be pussies.

🌸Did you get enough love, my little dove 🌸shall we look at the moon, my little loon

He warned you before agreeing to train you that he would not go easy because you were a girl.

"If you're gonna learn, you learn like your brother."

You vigorously nod your head.

"No bitching and crying. Got it?"

Again you nod. You're happy even if Homelander is frowning next to Soldier Boy. He was scared for you. Maybe he should have let on to how painful it was to be punched by Soldier Boy so you would understand what you were asking for. His methods weren't like Vought's. They were more brutal. Left longer lasting bruises. Homelander wanted to protect you from that. But every time Soldier Boy took Homelander out to the woods bordering your backyard, you grew lonely and jealous.

You were still young enough to keep hoping for some kind of connection with your dad. Your brother wanted you to remain soft and innocent. For twelve years he'd molded you into the perfect little girl. At the time you didn't mind. He gave you the attention Soldier Boy didn't.

One way to get more time with him, you'd noticed, was training Homelander outside. That was what gave you the idea to beg your father to train you too. You had the same powers as Homelander, it was only fair. Vought's tutelage wasn't enough for you, a child of Soldier Boy.

Unfortunately, Homelander witnessed reality dawning on you just a few minutes in. The exact moment when your eyes go wide at Soldier Boy's fist appearing in front of you in a blink of an eye.

You went flying, smashing through trunks of trees.

"You stay fucking put." Soldier Boy snaps at Homelander who twitched to go to your aid, but remains frozen. "She wanted to learn. The first thing she needs to understand is pain. And it looks like Vought hasn't been supplying her with the proper amount if she can't even take a punch."

Homelander wanted to scorch him. Turn him to ash. Guttural hatred hemorrhaged in the pit of him.

Soldier Boy yells in the direction he'd sent you flying. "C'mon! Get up!"

This is what you had asked for.

With a heavy head, you fumble to stand. It hurt to breathe through your nose and taste blood in your mouth and something rolling around against your tongue.

You spat into your hand a small tooth. Thankfully it was just a baby tooth and not one of your permanents.

Red trickles into your vision from an open cut on your brow.

You hear Soldier Boy's voice ringing but can't make out the words.

Moving any part of your body hurt, but you will yourself to move past the broken down trees that you had barreled through. Everything tilts at a nauseating angle.

It was too much.

You drop to your knees and throw up.

At least you weren't crying.

"Here, this will help." Homelander delicately places the ice pack on your face.

You're biting your bottom lip, sucking in your inhales to prevent yourself from sobbing. Your entire body hurt. And there was so much blood. Was this what Homelander had to put up with? You don't recall him ever showing up bleeding this much.

"Shit, I think you may have a concussion." He hisses after examining your eyes. Chewing on his bottom lip, he contemplates calling Vogelbaum. What if it was more than a concussion? You'd definitely require medical attention. And because you were a supe, you required special doctors.

You want to ask your brother how he survived doing those kinds of trainings four days a week. You're still reeling from the punch and unable to formulate any helpful words. The only thing you were capable of doing is closing your eyes as there's a brief break in the pain when the cold numbs your face.

"Don't fall asleep, okay? I'm going to call Dr. Vogelbaum."

Homelander dashes to the landline in the kitchen. Soldier Boy was picked up by Crimson Countess for Payback work. His truck was still parked in the driveway with its keys on a hook in the living room.

To be on the safe side, Vogelbaum insisted that he check you out himself. Homelander carefully got you into the truck and drove to Vogelbaum's estate.

"You say Ben did that?" Vogelbaum inquires once he's checked you over and settled you down on his couch.

Homelander nods. "She wanted to do the same training I was doing."

"If she was a normal person that punch would have killed her." He informs the young boy but it was something Homelander already knew. "Thank god she'll be fine. Her body is already healing at an incredible rate."

With fingers tented, he mulls over the scientist's words. "I can't protect her anymore."

Vogelbaum regards this sad boy, ignoring how his words send a pang in his chest. These kids never stood a chance. "Just remember she's made out of the same material you are. If you can survive Soldier Boy's classes, then so can your sister."

"I'm sorry I worried you." You tell Homelander later that night as both of you are preparing for bed. Already you were better than when he'd taken you to Vogelbaum's.

"I'm just happy you weren't seriously hurt." He smiles over at you but it falters when he spies the scab on your eyebrow. "Why did you want to train with dad? You have to be out of your mind to willingly do that."

Turning off the faucet knob, your other hand puts your toothbrush away. "I don't like being by myself here while you guys are out."

Homelander understands. He hated being without you.

You'd been looking at the budding tooth that was poking out of your gums. Where the baby tooth had been knocked out by Soldier Boy. Guess it didn't matter if he knocks out your adult teeth. They appeared to regenerate quickly.

You turn around to face your brother who still occupied the bathroom with you. He wears a basic light blue button up pajama set, blonde hair having been brushed back.

"I'm not quitting." You adamantly inform him when Homelander remains quiet.

Sadly, he sighs. "I know. There's no going back now."

You nod. "Yeah. Sorry I couldn't stay soft forever. I know you don't like me fighting."

That has him chuckling as he sits on the rim of the bath tub, watching as you now take your hairbrush to run through your long, dark hair. Dark hair that is so much like Soldier Boy's. Something all three of you have are the same blue eyes.

He reaches out to touch the falling tresses at your back. Soft against the pads of his fingers. "I don't like seeing you get hurt. I don't even like when Vought doctors give you shots. But you're growing up. Unfortunately I can't be your knight in shining armor."

You pout at that and place your brush back down on the counter. "Don't say that! You'll always be my knight! Now I'll just be able to protect you too."

"You want to protect me?" Funny. Homelander thought that he never needed anyone's help or protection.

Eyebrows raise. "Of course I do. I love you." You said it so earnestly that you weren't anticipating the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Homelander swipes at his eyes. "M'fine." Taking a deep breath to control himself, Homelander musters up a small smile just for you. "Lets get you to bed."

Trailing after you, Homelander is still stuck in his own head. Replaying Soldier Boy's punch. Your concussion that only lasted two hours but was still frightening to him.

He also remembers the determination in your battered little body as you stood up. His little hawk, you managed to meet Soldier Boy's gaze before puking. You said you wouldn't cry and you didn't. You weren't just talk. While you would always be his perfect little sister, Homelander believed you when you said you wanted to protect him too. Knew that with time, you would be strong enough.

Thanks for reading!

[purplepeptobismol]

Am I the asshole for k*lling myself in front of the past version of my father?

I (14M) accidentally went back in time and killed myself in front of the teenage version of my father (17M). Now, I know this sounds crazy, but there is a valid reason for why I did it. For one, I am cursed with immortality and cannot die. I also recently found out that the curse was inherited by my father (yes, he also has immortality).

I know you may be asking “Hey, why did you go back in time in the first place?” Well, I was tasked with a very important mission (which I won’t get into at the moment), but unfortunately, the Time Machine ended up sending me too far back. I’ve been trying so hard to figure out how to get back to my original timeline, I even broke into an abandoned lab to see if I could find anything useful. But nothing has worked!

The only other option I had was to get help from the very scientists who created the machine in the first place. Which is— you guessed it, MY FATHER!

Unfortunately, my father wasn’t a famous, genius scientist in this timeline, he’s actually still a teenager here! He doesn’t even know anything about advanced astrophysics for god’s sake!!! Still, I went to him and knocked on his door in hopes he would at least believe I’m his son, and could even assist me in some way (there’s gotta be something useful in that brain of his).

As it turned out, he didn’t believe me. He thought it was all a prank from one of his friends who always messed with him. Of course, I kept trying and trying, even told him things only family members would know. But still— nothing.

Then, I got struck by an idea: “My dad has the same curse of immortality as me... and even when we die, no one in the world remembers. Only us two.” So as a final attempt to convince him I’m his future son, I grabbed a sharp piece of glass and slit my throat.

Now, I know that was very extreme of me, but it was the only thing I could think of! There isn’t really a gentle way of dying. And yeah, it probably traumatized him (from what I could tell), but it doesn’t matter. I can come back to life! Good as new. But was there another way, or anything else I could’ve said or done to convince him I am his future son? Am I the asshole?

Update: the stunt worked and he now fully believes that I'm his son from the future! Everyone who downvoted me, suck my balls.

————

[This prompt is inspired by the first chapter of my Bunny fic ‘I Will Make of You’ in the POV of a certain someone.]

NEW UPDATE IS OUT NOW!

[epickiya722]

As much as I would have loved for Kenjaku and Yuji to have more interactions, another part of me now actually liked the little interaction they had.

It's just as tragic, if not more tragic. But also it goes with the idea that Yuji doesn't know his parents or more of his family.

The most he knows now probably is that Choso and the Death Paintings are his (half) siblings and Kenjaku had something to do with it (Choso probably told him so).

Yuji learning about Choso being his brother is a good thing for him. The time he did act unsatisfied with the idea was back in Shibuya. After that, we seen their relationship got better. He had Choso at his side since then.

Now what good would it do if Yuji learned the truth about how he's related Kenjaku and Sukuna? In fact, would he even care?

Remember when Wasuke tried to tell him about his parents? Didn't care to hear that.

When Junpei asked about his parents? Didn't remember little to nothing about his dad and nothing at all about his mom. But he didn't seem entirely brokenhearted. He seemed... like he accepted it, moved past that.

The thing with Yuji is... if Sukuna decides to throw it in their face that they're related, I doubt Yuji would break down in tears and give up fighting.

That's not Yuji.

Two reactions I feel like Yuji would give.

Either he will be furious or he'll brush it off as he normally does with Sukuna's antics.

With him being furious, it will just give him more reason to hate Sukuna and kill him. Family be damned. We seen Yuji angry. Look, Sukuna already got hit with back to back Black Flashes. I don't think he wants Yuji angry. Nuh uh. Sukuna don't do that.

Honestly though... I also feel like Sukuna doesn't give a damn about telling Yuji.

Anyways!

Same with Kenjaku. I don't think Yuji would actually care to know Kenjaku is his mother (by host). Again, what good would it do for him?

I also feel like he may have figured it out by now. Yuji ain't all that dumb now. I said it before but I do think he may have caught on by now or at least will later. And I don't think he would be fazed.

Would he think it would be cruel that Kenjaku have done such things? Yes! Would he not like the fact he was created by Kenjaku to be Sukuna's vessel and be related to those two? Also, yes. He'd hate that idea.

But Yuji just doesn't come off as someone who dwells on the past like that, let alone would be like "oh, woe is me, my family is so messed up" and cry waterfalls.

He's just more of a "What's done is done and I'll do what I can to make the best of it" person to me. He accepts, he learns and does what he can to make the most of out a bad situation.

Him knowing he's related to Kenjaku and Sukuna in some way will not change the fact that they're both evil and done terrible things or Yuji's feelings.

Sometimes I feel like the reason we don't know much about Yuji or Sukuna or others for the Heian Era is for the purpose of not needing to.

Yes, knowing about the past can help. But sometimes knowing, it doesn't have a purpose other than having extra information.

Maybe not knowing much about Sukuna is a way of saying "let's leave the past in the past and move on". Sukuna was not meant to be in the present times. When he's finally put to rest, that should be it for him.

It's why some of the characters like the Higher-Ups and the Zenin clan sucks and came to a downfall. Part of their awful behavior was they were more traditional and didn't care to adapt to the new changes.

That's going to be the case for Sukuna. Yuji is the present and future. Sukuna is the past. Yuji is going to be that new age that rises and push Sukuna right into the dirt where he belong.

Again, them being related and Yuji knowing ain't going to change the fact that Yuji wants Sukuna dead and he's going to kill him. So what would be the point of knowing?

[cherienymphe]

When The Party’s Over XI (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forbidden relationship, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, forced pregnancy, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

~

“You want to hear something funny?”

That should’ve been your first clue that you were about to hear something that was indeed, not funny. Your dad had a familiar look on his face as he stood in the kitchen, but funnily enough, it was a look you’d only ever seen directed at Pope. You paused in your chewing, nervously watching him as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I ran into Ward Cameron today…”

If at all possible, you felt your stomach drop straight to the floor. You were sure your feelings were reflected on your face, and in all this time you went along with Rafe’s lie, you never thought of what you would do if your dad and Ward ran into each other…and started talking. You struggled to swallow, licking your lips.

“Dad-.”

“I mentioned all of this so called ‘tutoring’ that you’ve been doing for his daughter, and you know what? He had no idea what I was talking about.”

You pressed your lips together, guilt and shame eating away at you as he just stared at you in disappointment. That was worse than him yelling, and the silence in the kitchen was loud.

“So, now, I have a question for you,” he mused. “Just what have you been doing and where have you been these past few months? Hmm?”

It’s not like you could very well tell him you’d been sneaking around with and sleeping with Rafe Cameron. That just wasn’t going to happen, and so you decided for a half-truth instead.

“With Cam and Bunny,” you sighed.

“Those two little rich girls you went to school with?” he looked so confused. “…and just what have you been doing with them that you had to lie about it?”

“Nothing! We just hang out sometimes. In the pool, eating, watching movies that kind of stuff,” you explained. “…and because Cam is dating Kelce, sometimes Topper and Rafe are there. Rafe drives me home, sometimes.”

You watched the older man heave a tired sigh, rubbing his forehead as he moved to sit down across from you. He fixed you with a look, and you continued.

“I like hanging out with them,” you told him. “…and I hate being the only one who has to leave early because of a curfew. Especially when I’m tired, and I’d rather just sleep over at my friend’s house or something.”

He was quiet, contemplating, and so you just decided to do the right thing.

“I’m sorry,” you eventually said. “I know I shouldn’t have lied, but it seemed like the only way you’d let me stay out so late or stay over at a friend’s. Pope doesn’t have a curfew, at all.”

“Pope earned that.”

You grew silent at that, withering under his disappointed stare.

“…and he earned it by following our rules and not lying to us.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“You know you’re grounded, right?”

You expected it, but it still sucked to hear.

“For two weeks.”

That really sucked to hear.

“You could’ve just been honest, you know. We could’ve talked, come to some kind of understanding, but instead you decided to be sneaky…”

“I know.”

He stood, the chair scraping, and you swallowed.

“…and the fact that you got the Cameron boy to lie for you.”

He was shaking his head when you looked up.

“Two weeks…and after that, we’re going to reevaluate some things, but you can expect to give us some kind of itinerary for what you’re doing and where you’ll be every day.”

You watched him go, and you let your head fall when he was gone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that that lie came back to bite you in the ass, and as if he sensed your new lack of freedom, your phone went off, unsurprised to see Rafe’s name. Appetite gone, you got rid of your dish, making your way to your room and bringing your phone to your ear.

“Whatever you have planned, you’ll have to forget about it,” was how you greeted him. “I’m grounded.”

“Grounded?” Rafe replied. “Why?”

“My dad ran into your dad…”

You let your words stew in the air for a moment, and Rafe’s soft sigh told you that he understood exactly what had happened. He didn’t respond right away, and for a second, you feared he just wouldn’t. Since the other night, Rafe had been acting weird, quieter, less easy to read. That very next morning, when you’d kissed him, you’d noticed it then, and you had pulled away, curiously eyeing him.

“You okay?” you had softly asked, and Rafe had just looked at you for a moment before throwing you a crooked smile.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You hadn’t had much of an answer to that, not wanting to remind him of your little fight the night before. Sure, you’d called him back as soon as you got inside your room, but like clockwork, apologies had been falling from his lips, telling you he was going to do better. You’d both seemingly put it behind you, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was. Still, Rafe hadn’t talked on it anymore, and you let it go.

It didn’t change the fact that something was off though. You could just tell.

“For how long?” he finally asked.

“Two weeks.”

While technically, yes, you were an adult, it was less than six months ago when you needed permission just to leave the classroom. Your parents would lose their minds if you decided you just weren’t going to listen to them anymore and considering that decision would no doubt have to come with a new roof too, you decided to just suck it up.

“Well, I guess I’ll be sneaking into your room a lot more often in the next fourteen days.”

You both chuckled at that, and you sat down.

“I guess so,” you said. “I should’ve known it would catch up to me, and now…they’re going to be even stricter than they were before.”

“Shame, really,” Rafe murmured. “I was thinking about taking you out on my boat.”

You perked up at that.

In all the time you’d been dating Rafe, he hadn’t taken you on it. It wasn’t like you had this burning desire to go on it, but with mentions of it, you’d definitely entertained the thought. Rafe had even brought it up once before, but considering the secrecy of your relationship, you were sure at least a few people would see you climbing aboard and sailing off with him.

“Not if we go out at night,” he’d replied. “…and come back at night.”

It had appealed to you, and Rafe had mentioned going when the weather was perfect. It had only been in passing, but your chest bloomed with the prospect of actually going, now.

“Really?” you said, laying down. “Now, you decide is the perfect time when I’m grounded?”

“They’ll expect you to be in your room most of your sentence, anyway, right?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

God knows it was risky, but truthfully, getting grounded for an extra two weeks or so would be worth spending a night or two on Rafe’s boat with him. Especially when every night of those two weeks would consist of Rafe sneaking into your room.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you teased, and Rafe softly laughed.

You both knew your answer, but he played along, finally hanging up after promising to come over tomorrow night.

Being grounded meant that if you needed to leave the house, then Pope was going with you. It meant going out and coming straight back, and as annoying as it was, it was better than not leaving the house, at all. On this particular day, Sarah and JJ tagged along too, waiting in the vehicle while you quickly browsed the aisles.

The last person you expected to run into was Topper, and without Pope breathing down your neck, you sent the blond a friendly smile.

“Hey.”

His response was even, cold even, and you frowned in confusion as he brushed past you. Funnily enough, you would say you were friends, something you never thought you’d think about Topper Thornton. So, his reception was mind-boggling, and you turned to stare after him. You started to say something, but Topper was pretty determined in getting as far away from you as possible.

You frowned at his back as he walked away, and forcing yourself not to linger on what that was about, you decided to finish getting what you needed. Pope was just as irritated about having to drive you around, rushing you as soon as you were back in sight.

“We saw Topper come out of there not long before you did,” Sarah commented as soon as you buckled up. “You didn’t run into him, did you?”

You hadn’t quite had the opportunity to tell Sarah that she was completely wrong about you and Topper, and now certainly wasn’t the time. Besides, you didn’t know if you could call what had happened ‘running into him’, so you sort of lied and told her no. You could feel her eyes on you as you looked out of the window, too deep in thought about what that could’ve been about.

It was only when Pope dropped you off back at home did it finally occur to you.

“Hey,” you softly started hours later when Rafe had snuck in through your window. “Did you…did you say anything to Topper?”

He was propped up on his elbow, gazing at you as you played with his shirt. As the question left your lips, you looked up at him, meeting his blue gaze.

“I told him about us,” you continued. “…and I told him it was alright to bring it up with you, and I just assumed he had.”

Despite the fact that Rafe hadn’t brought it up, and neither did you, there seemed to be something unspoken in the air that he knew you’d talked with Topper. Your boyfriend shifted, and you intently watched him.

“Nothing crazy,” he told you, and you frowned. “Just cleared the air, made sure he understands how I feel about you.”

You let out a light chuckle, but it wasn’t exactly humorous.

“…but now he won’t even look at me. He barely talked to me when I ran into him at the store.”

Rafe shrugged, fingers dipping under your shirt, and your eyes slightly narrowed.

“You did…didn’t you?”

Rafe sighed, letting out a bitter chuckle, and you sat up, forcing him to too.

“Since when do you care about Topper?” he harshly questioned, and you shook your head.

“Since he’s damn near terrified of even talking to me, now,” you scoffed. “He’s kind of my friend too, you know, or at least, he was.”

“Really,” Rafe dryly commented, resting his arms on his knees as he stared you down. “Since when?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe since your friends started hanging out with my friends. Or maybe since Cam and Kelce started dating. Or better yet, maybe when we started dating and I was forced to be around him half as much as I’m around you.”

Rafe nodded, looking away.

“You seem really invested in someone you know through me.”

You didn’t even know how to react to that, pressing our lips together and shaking your head.

“That’s not even the point,” you harshly whispered. “He was practically tripping over himself just to get away from me, and you think that’s okay?”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you continued.

“Random guys at parties are one thing, but Topper is your best friend. I thought that these trust issues were with the so-called creepy guys, but now I’m starting to see there’s a common denominator, here, and it’s me,” you defeatedly told him. “Clearly, the lack of trust is with me.”

Rafe finally heaved a sigh, moving to face you and reaching for you.

“That’s not true…”

“It has to be!”

You snapped your mouth shut, listening to make sure you hadn’t woken anyone up before continuing, quieter this time.

“I don’t even need to know what you said to him to know that it was probably really shitty and messed up,” you hissed. “This can’t be our whole relationship. It can’t, Rafe.”

You stood, and so did he. You watched him run his hands down his face, slowly approaching you and reaching for you again. You were too annoyed to move, unintentionally letting him, and Rafe pulled you closer.

“I just told him what you mean to me,” Rafe gently told you. “Maybe Topper just doesn’t think it’s right to be so friendly with you, now.”

You eyed him.

“Be serious, please.”

“I don’t have to tell you what we talked about, that’s between me and Top, but if you think I went around threatening my best friend or something, you’re wrong,” he said, continuing when you sighed. “I’m serious. He knows you’re my girlfriend, now, and that’s just probably all he sees you as.”

You didn’t really believe Rafe, but you didn’t have much choice, at the moment. You weren’t stupid. You knew he said something to Topper that went beyond just how he felt about you, and this was one of those moments where you found yourself reevaluating your relationship. Since the night of that party, you’d known something was off, and you felt stupid for not immediately guessing Rafe’s jealousy.

Of course, it was Rafe’s jealousy.

The energy to be mad, to care, didn’t even stay with you for long. You were grounded, and the highlight of this prison sentence was sneaking around with Rafe, and you didn’t want to spend your now limited time together fighting. You moved by him without saying another word, feeling his eyes on you as you laid back down.

He was lying. You knew he was lying, and for some reason, that made you want to cry. Rafe said he loved you. He’d looked you in the eyes and told you that he loved you, but the lack of trust said otherwise. Was Rafe really that insecure? Or did he just think that low of you? You heard him call your name, but you pretended not to hear, closing your eyes.

You knew that this needed to be nipped in the bud for good, but you were too disappointed to go there, now. Rafe had told you he was going to be better about his jealousy, and maybe he had meant it at the time, but his intentions then didn’t really matter all that much, now. Night ruined, you just wanted to go to sleep, uncaring about what Rafe chose to do.

You were quiet as you looked out over the water, the ocean breeze ruffling Rafe’s shirt against your thighs. You were finally on his boat, experiencing what should’ve been a romantic break for you both, but it was soured by the cloud hanging over your heads. It had taken more money that you wanted to give and more begging than you’d anticipated to convince Pope to cover for you, under the impression you just wanted to spend a night or two at Bunny’s.

He'd have a stroke if he knew the truth.

The morning after you’d gone to bed angry and disappointed, Rafe had been there, waking you up with a plethora of “I’m sorry”s as he peppered kisses along your face. You hadn’t been in the most forgiving mood, but when Rafe wanted to be sweet, he was the sweetest, and against your will, he’d worn you down. You still wanted to know just what he said to Topper, but you’d forced yourself to let it go.

Temporarily, anyway.

Now, though, alone on his boat, it was glaring more than ever that your less than perfect relationship probably deserved a more serious label than that. It wasn’t just less than perfect. It was troubled because Rafe was troubled, and you were starting to worry that until he wasn’t, your relationship wouldn’t be either.

You felt like your mood was noticeable. Even as excited as you’d been when Rafe snuck you out, and as enthusiastic as you’d been when he’d decided to christen the bedroom below deck, you were pretty sure your dampened spirit was obvious. You looked over your shoulder as Rafe came back up, nursing a drink, and you thought to yourself that it was better than coke.

“It’s so much prettier up here,” you told him, reaching for him.

He made his way closer, and you didn’t miss the way he swayed slightly. You frowned a bit at that, but brushed it off, looking back out towards the ocean. The sun was setting, and it made for a perfect view, and you leaned back as Rafe wrapped an arm around you. You were a decent ways off the coast with no chance of any familiar boats passing by, and you heard Rafe take another sip before dipping his head down.

“I fucked up.”

He murmured the words into your skin, and you closed your eyes.

“I…I may have told Topper some not so nice things.”

You sighed, both proud and disappointed as he admitted the truth. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he breathed, and you really didn’t know what to say.

“You don’t get it,” he choked out.

You were moving away before he was even done, and he reached for you. When you looked at him, his blue eyes were glassy, and he opened and closed his mouth, struggling to voice his thoughts.

“You never saw the way he looked at you before he knew about us,” he confessed, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “He liked to look…a lot, and if he and Bunny hadn’t…”

Rafe trailed off, waving his hand as he allowed your mind to fill in the blanks that his apparently already had. You didn’t even know what to say to that, frowning at him and shaking your head.

“He’s your best friend, Rafe.”

“I know…”

“…and he didn’t know! Now, he’s terrified of even breathing in my direction,” you scoffed. “Is that how you plan to navigate the rest of this relationship?”

“I messed up, okay?”

He sniffed, and you turned away, moving to stand near the steps, away from him. You could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked up, Rafe’s gaze was pleading.

“He’s your best friend,” you reminded him. “You shouldn’t treat him like some horny creep off the street.”

Rafe didn’t say anything to that.

“He knows about us, now, and he knows what I mean to you, so don’t you think you should apologize?”

Rafe simply stared at you as you said that, and you watched him down the rest of his drink. He didn’t speak for a while, and for a moment, you were convinced that he was going to agree.

“Why are you so concerned with Topper?”

“…because he’s your friend, and I think what you did was pretty shitty,” you said like it was obvious.

Rafe nodded at that, pulling his lip between his teeth as he did.

“Look, I saw that he was kind of into you, and I just made it clear I wasn’t going to sit back and watch that, anymore, okay?” you watched him move to pour another drink. “…but maybe you actually liked that.”

He said that last part more to himself, but you heard him all the same. Your face pinched into a frown, and you stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

He took another sip, and you shook your head, walking towards him.

“Ok, clearly, you’ve had more than enough.”

You chuckled, trying to make light of the suddenly tense atmosphere, but Rafe pulled his hand away as you reached for his drink. The look he gave you was cold, and his blue eyes looked between yours.

“I mean, you tell me you want to walk home…but you take a ride from Topper with no problem.”

You froze at that, stomach sinking in disbelief, and you just…stared at him. You felt like you’d just been slapped, unable to believe that Rafe was bringing up something you didn’t even realize was an issue. You’d thought the jealousy was like every other time, merely hating the thought of any guy talking to you, but all of this stemmed from an innocent ride home? This was what had been festering for days?

You let out a light laugh, but Rafe didn’t return it, his expression didn’t even shift.

“Rafe…you can’t be serious.”

“I went back to the party for you,” he spat, shocking you. “I gave you some time to cool off, and when I went back to get you, you were gone.”

He downed the rest of his drink, slamming the glass down, and you jumped at the sound of breaking glass.

“…because you were too busy getting a ride home with Topper.”

You genuinely couldn’t believe this was happening.

“You didn’t hesitate to tell me you weren’t going anywhere with me,” Rafe angrily slurred. “…but you hopped into his car with no hesitation.”

“…and you want me to feel bad about that?” you asked, in disbelief.

“Did you fuck him?”

The question stumped you so much that your jaw actually dropped, and your frown deepened as Rafe stepped closer, any humor left officially gone from the conversation.

“Are you crazy?” you breathed.

“Did you fuck him?” he slowly repeated, and you moved away from him.

“What kind of question is that-?”

“One you still haven’t answered!”

“…because I thought the answer would be obvious,” you spat. “No!”

You watched Rafe run his hands through his hair, drunkenly mumbling to himself, and you couldn’t swallow down your disgust. The already tense conversation had taken a sharp turn, and you couldn’t decide who was worse; your boyfriend when he was high or your boyfriend when he was drunk.

“I mean, I guess no one would blame you if you did, right?”

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you turned away.

“Topper’s nice and polite, and he has his shit together,” his voice was closer, now. “…you don’t have to worry about bad coping mechanisms with him.”

When Rafe grabbed your arm, you shook him off, moving away, but he followed.

“…and hey…he thinks you’re kind of hot, right?”

You froze as Rafe threw Topper’s words from months ago back at you. You sighed, eyes falling closed, unsurprised that he’d heard that. You remembered his mood later that day, and you suddenly felt so stupid, realizing that Rafe’s jealousy had been rearing it’s ugly head for months.

“You’re drunk, and I’m not entertaining this,” you told him.

Every time you moved away, Rafe followed, and his hand was on your wrist when you found yourself near the steps.

“You really expect me not to say anything to him when we both know he would’ve fucked you if you gave him the chance?” Rafe nastily said, his face inches from yours.

You pulled your arm from his wrist, forcing yourself to take a step down. Even when high, you’d never witnessed Rafe this…bad before, and your heart raced in your chest as he looked down his nose at you.

“He didn’t mean anything by that, Rafe, and even he did, he didn’t know we were together then,” you said. “The fact that you think I would even do that is-.”

“You couldn’t wait to be rid of me-.”

“We’d just gotten into a fight, Rafe! I was angry-.”

You cut yourself off when Rafe stepped closer, the action making you nervous, and you slipped, falling at the bottom of the steps, hanging onto the boat. You attempted to stand, but Rafe had followed, standing right before you and preventing you from straightening.

“…and you actually think he offered you a ride out of the goodness of his heart…”

Rafe chuckled at the thought, but it was bitter, mean, and you blinked back tears. He leaned over, and the last thing you expected was for Rafe to fist his hand into your hair, making you cry out and reach for his arm. He was kneeling before you on the higher steps, and you pushed against him.

“I’ll say whatever I want to whoever I want if I feel like they’re trying to take what’s mine,” he sneered. “What’s rightfully mine.”

His hold tightened, and you dug your nails into his hand. This didn’t feel real, and part of you still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t some sick nightmare.

“You are what’s mine in case you’re confused,” he whispered.

“Rafe, let go…”

“Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?”

You struggled to swallow, tears finally spilling over as you stared into his eyes.

“Rafe…you’re scaring me,” you choked out.

The blond paused, lips parting as he gazed at you.

“I’m scaring you,” he repeated, brows pulling together. “What about me?”

You sniffed.

“Huh? You don’t think it scared me when you let my best friend take you home, but you couldn’t get away from me fast enough? You don’t think that was scary to me?”

“Rafe,” you tearfully pleaded.

“I’m scaring you,” he repeated, murmuring the words to himself.

Your boyfriend sniffed, nodding to himself as his face grew stony.

You didn’t understand what happened at first, only realizing that water was suddenly in your mouth and your nose. Your hand was still on the boat, pressing down and sliding along the surface as you tried to straighten yourself. Your knees were on the last steps, and when you realized that a hand was still in your hair, gripping the back of your head, your heart threatened to leap out of your chest.

When you gasped again, instead of sucking in water this time, it was air. A horrible choking sound left your throat as you coughed, water spilling out of your mouth and nose. You furiously blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened, and your hand joined your other one on Rafe’s wrist, trying to get him to let go when he pushed your head down again.

You could feel one of his hands twisted into the back of his shirt you were wearing, preventing you from going into the water completely. Your feet kicked as best as they could while kneeling, and when you realized that you couldn’t get Rafe to let go, your hand pushed against the boat again, trying to push back. He pushed your head down further, holding it down longer than last time, and at some point, your chest started to burn.

Even with your head underwater, you knew you were crying. It was the perfect moment to have an out of body experience, to feel as if you were outside of your body looking in, but instead, you felt everything. You felt the tight grip of Rafe’s hand in your hair. You felt the force behind his hand as he held you down. You could feel your heart racing and the panic in your chest as your hand continuously slid along the boat.

When Rafe finally pulled you up, he completely let you go, and you fell back on the steps, struggling to breathe. You spit up water onto them, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him stand. Your chest was burning, eyes too, and when you looked at him, you only saw his back as he walked away. He didn’t spare you a second glance as you sat on the steps, drunkenly cursing to himself about you, no doubt.

Your breaths were coming out in choppy wheezes, and you could feel your tears wetting your face, replacing whatever ocean water that was starting to dry. You could hear Rafe getting another drink, and you turned your head away, unable to stop shaking but too scared to move.

You’d been staring at the wall for hours when you heard Rafe coming below deck. You didn’t move, fingers tightening in the sheets as you heard him stop at the entrance. The taste of ocean water was still in your throat, the smell clinging to your hair and skin and shirt. When you heard Rafe softly call your name, you closed your eyes.

He sounded more sober, now, but you didn’t care.

When you closed your eyes, you could still feel his harsh grip in your hair as he held you down. You could see the sneer on his face as he accused you of having sex with Topper. You could see the glint in his blue eyes as he turned into someone you’d never seen before. Only, that wasn’t completely true, was it?

You thought about when he’d grabbed you at Midsummers and that night at the party when you literally woke up with sore wrists. You’d seen this Rafe before, but those times were small unimportant things you’d forced yourself to look past, to make excuses for. But this? Your lips trembled, and you resisted the urge to be sick.

“Y/N…”

You didn’t move when he sat down at your feet, and you felt…numb when he touched you.

“Hey,” he softly said. “Y/N.”

He knew you were awake, and the rawness of your throat reminded you that maybe ignoring him wasn’t the best idea. With a deep breath, you slowly sat up, eyes focused on the sheets. You could feel his gaze on you, and you bit your lip.

“Please, look at me, beautiful. Please,” he begged.

When you did, you didn’t miss the way Rafe frowned, like he was struggling to keep his gaze on you. Yes, he was certainly sobered up, now, and you took in the way his pink lips trembled. He swiped his tongue between them, moving closer, and your heart started to race in your chest.

It wasn’t lost on you that you were alone in the middle of the ocean with him.

“I’m sorry,” he softly breathed, moving to sit right by you, now. “I’m so… I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t respond, keeping your eyes on him like some rabid animal.

“The whole thing with Topper, I…”

He clenched his jaw, repeatedly running his hand through his dirty blond locks.

“I kept thinking about it, and the more I did, the more I just kept drinking, and I just got…so angry,” he explained, and you emptily nodded. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He reached for your face, and you turned your head, nodding and sniffling.

“It’s-it’s fine.”

It wasn’t.

It was so far from fine it wasn’t even funny. Every time you thought back on it, you wanted to cry, and you struggled to swallow. Your voice was so raw, and sometime during the aftermath, you’d realized that you’d been screaming while your head was underwater. The look Rafe gave you told you that he knew you were lying, and he reached for your face again.

“Rafe, I told you, it’s fine,” you choked out, trying to push him away.

“I’m sorry,” he softly repeated, leaning in, and you pulled away.

“Rafe, I’m tired, okay? I’m really tired, and it’s fine, and…and we can just go to bed,” you struggled to say.

His hands slid to your arms, and his brows were drawn together as he studied you.

“I told you I was sorry-.”

“…and I believe you. I told you it’s fine, Rafe.”

You could tell that your refusal to let him kiss you was bothering him, and again, it hit you that you were alone with him out here. Rafe had made it clear that you would never know what he was capable of, and you felt your stomach churn at the thought of placating him…too afraid to not to, right now.

When his lips brushed against yours, you shuddered, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You couldn’t stop shaking, and when Rafe laid you down, you kept your eyes on the ceiling. He kept telling you how sorry he was, but it didn’t mean anything to you. The minute you got back on land, Rafe would be lucky if he ever saw you again.

In this moment, you wished you hadn’t snuck out, thinking that maybe the universe was trying to look out for you by having your parents ground you. You wondered if this was some horrible lesson you had to learn, and as Rafe pushed himself into you, sighing at the feel of you squeezing him, you were grateful that it was too dark for him to see your tears.