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yall-batman-fanfic · 2 days ago

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DC x MARVEL Crossover: The Dark Knight and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician [Part 1]

Synopsis: A case has Vivian and Bruce head to New York, and this time she decides to visit an old friend who has gained a lot of attention on the news after putting away a syndicate leader.

Hell’s Kitchen is in chaos, and the syndicates in Gotham were taking advantage of that by buying weapons and drugs from the incarcerated Wilson Fisk, aka the Kingpin. Crime has risen in Gotham since Fisk’s downfall too, from criminals who are trying to get fast cash by selling their warehouses to criminals seeking refuge to the next city that had the same corrupt system as the Kitchen and, maybe, make it on their own there.

The problem is, families like the Falcone and the Maronis are not too welcoming. Neither are the gangs of the Penguin, the Riddler, Scar Face, Two-Face, and the Joker. Gotham’s islands have been marked, gang lines made.

To make things harder for them, Gotham itself was the Batman’s domain.

And the Dark Knight is not too happy with the rising crime in Gotham either.

“That’s another shipment from Hell’s Kitchen,” Robin, Tim, said. They just took out another group in the docks, carrying firearms and drugs.

“Your mess has even reached Bludhaven. Patrols these days are just me dodging bullets,” Nightwing added.

Robin smirked. “I don’t think our local criminals will be too happy to hear you say that these New Yorkers are from our side of the bridge.”

“They’re still criminals. Nothing’s different,” said Batman. “And I’m getting tired of cleaning up Hell’s Kitchen’s trash. Time to go to the source.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Nightwing, this can also be an opportunity for you to take out your problem in Bludhaven.”

“Is that your way of saying you need my help?” Nightwing teased.

From their comms, the three vigilantes heard Vivian say: “Don’t tease him. It’s been a long week… and I can’t blame Batman. Even Midnite’s tired of all this shit. He asked me to help out in taking out the trash too.”

“The club’s been getting unwanted visitors?” Batman asked.

“Some unsanctioned drugs are getting in and Midnite is not happy with how it affects the supernatural. I guess we’re going to New York.”

“I’ll contact BatWoman and Batwing to take over patrols here.”

“I’ll book us all a hotel,” Vivian said. “I’ll also call in Jason for back up.”

“We don’t need backup,” said Batman.

“No offence, my love, but when it comes to infiltrating the criminal underworld, I trust his judgement more.”

Batman hummed in annoyance. Just a little.

“Hey, Mama Bird, you forgot to do the thing again,” said Nightwing.

“I’m not saying that codename, Dick.”

Nightwing laughed. “Man, Hell’s Kitchen is in it for a treat.”

~ A few days later. Hell’s Kitchen, New York ~

Nelson & Murdock usually have their lunches outside but this time they decided to get takeaways and eat in the office, which they now realized wasn’t such a good idea because now their little office smelled like Chinese takeouts. Not very professional, Karen joked when she tried to get the smell out by opening the window and use the fan. Maybe she should spray her perfume just a little?

“I think it’s a good thing,” Foggy commented. “Some people like the smell of Chinese takeouts.”

“Come on, Foggy, we gotta at least not smell like lunch,” Karen laughed. Especially when their counter was filled with payments from their pro bono cases, which were all food. And most of their cases these days were pro bono.

“Well, while you guys try to get that smell out, I have to check in with Mr. Omar’s…” Matt trailed off.

“Mr. Omar’s lease. He’s a tenant and his landlord’s been… well his landlord’s a dick,” Karen answered.

“Right. I’ll be inside,” Matt closed the door of his office and went to his desk. But it wasn’t Mr. Omar’s case he opened, he was more interested with what Mr. Omar said to them the last time they met, which was earlier this morning when they met with him in the ER after Karen called him about the old man getting mugged and rushed to the hospital.

I thought that was it but then someone knocked them out. They just dropped from the sky and POW! Mr. Omar made a gesture. It looked like a giant bat!

Foggy thought Mr. Omar was concussed—the old man was hit on the head by his aggressor before he was saved by this giant bat. But recently, Hell’s Kitchen has been getting news about criminals found hanging off of buildings for the police to collect, or are dropped off of NYPD station. Not to mention the sharp throwing star shaped to a bat that Daredevil found in last night’s crime scene too.

A vigilante is in the Kitchen.

"Welcome to Nelson and Murdock," the sound of Karen’s voice had Matt’s head perk to the direction of the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

That heartbeat, Matt thought. And that scent—not the perfume but the hint of cinnamon and grass.

Matt knew that smell.

~ * ~

Karen got up from her desk to meet the woman who knocked on their door and let herself in. This woman looked different from the other clients they had. First, though her clothes looked simple, Karen knew what an expensive blazer looked like; second her perfume isn’t exactly the type you’d buy in the local store; and third, the way she stood and composed herself was different to everyone else.

"Hi," said the woman. Her eyes looked around the room and they stayed fixed at the door that had the name Murdock on the door. “This is Nelson & Murdock, right? Are you guys open?”

“Yeah, we are. Sorry we just…” Karen looked around their office that had the lights shut and the curtains open so they could use the natural sunlight, but for Matt. He doesn’t really need it. “Well, we’re trying to… Nelson & Murdock is a green firm.” She laughed.

The woman smiled. "I was hoping I could talk to Mr. Murdock. Is he around?"

Why was she asking for Matt specifically? Karen thought. "Is there anything we could do? What's uh..."

"It's okay, Karen." Matt came out of his office and approached them. "Hi, Matt Murdock."

The woman smiled and shook Matt's hand. "Mr. Murdock, Vivian Pryor.”

And for a moment Karen saw his face turn to something she rarely saw. Vulnerable.

“Viv?” Matt let out a breathy laugh. “Vivian Pryor…”

“When we were kids our rooms were just below each other so I would sneak out the fire escape and climb down there whenever my Mom had a night shift. And we have this really weird secret knock…”

"It was actually morse code for your name.”

“It was a pretty damn long knock and I hated it. Especially when you won’t open your window because I skipped a few beats.”

“Well it was for both our safeties.” He smiled. “Wow! It's been... May I?" He opened his arms.

"Of course, Matt," Vivian laughed and welcomed his hug. "Been a while."

"Biggest understatement of the century.” Matt let her go but he still held her arms. “Wow, it’s been… A long while. And I am so glad that I’m taller than you now."

“Glad that I gave you that win, Murdock,” Vivian laughed.

"I'm sorry, what's this?" Foggy came out of his office.

"Foggy, Karen. This is Vivian. She was my neighbor back when we were kids. You know her Foggy, I told you about her."

"Oh, that Vivian! Yeah, Matt told me about you that one time. Nice to finally meet you," Foggy went to shake her hand.

"Foggy's my associate." Matt introduced.

"The Nelson in the Nelson and Murdock."

"And this is Karen, our secretary. Karen, this is Vivian, she was the one who traced those photos with a toothpick so I could still "see" them." He still has those photos with him and he would trace them when he can, especially the one that was his Dad.

"It's nice to meet you. Do you want coffee?" Karen offered.

"It sucks but it does the job," Foggy jokes.

“I’m all good, thanks,” Vivian laughed.

"Wh-what are you doing here? Where do you live now anyway? Are you back?" Matt asked, a bit too excited.

"I live in Gotham City, New Jersey," Vivian answered.

"Boo!" Foggy teased.

“Gotham, that’s really far.”

Vivian couldn’t help but smile. "My husband and I just came here for business and then I heard about Nelson and Murdock and I thought—"

"Husband?" Matt’s brows furrowed.

"Yeah, I'm married,” She was about to raise her hand and show the ring but remembered Matt was blind.

"Since when?" Matt shifted in his stance.

Vivian let out a breath. "I guess it's been six—seven years now?"

"Kids?"

There was a bit of hesitation when she answered. “Yeah. Adopted.”

Matt noticed the change in her heartbeat.

"Wow... I never..."

"Never thought I'd get married and have kids?" Vivian raised a brow, her hands tucked in her pants.

"Is it an insult if I thought that? I mean, you weren't exactly... when we were kids you weren't..."

"Hey, Viv? Are you here?” Tim’s head peaked in the door. When he saw Vivian and the three adults, he opened the door more and waved his hand, “Hi.”

“Speaking of,” Vivian beckoned him to join her. “This is Tim. He’s… how old are you?”

“Geez, Viv, I’m fifteen.”

“Hey Tim, have you seen… oh there you are,” Dick came to the room. “Hi.”

“My eldest. Technically he’s our ward but I’ve always thought of him as my own…” Vivian introduced.

“Dick Grayson,” Dick shook Karen’s hand, then Foggy, and then Matt.

“Wow, he’s… I was expecting little kids,” said Foggy. “Any more?”

“Jason’s somewhere in the city. But that’s all of us,” Tim shrugged.

“And where's Bruce?" Vivian said.

“Please don’t tell me that’s another one,” Matt let out a laugh. He wasn’t sure how he could take it knowing she had more children at… she’s just around his age, she can’t possibly be a mother to these young men.

"He's heading up. Listen, I’m heading back down to stay with Alfred. Come on, Tim,” Dick dragged Tim along with a headlock.

“Come on, Dick, cut it out,” Tim grumbled.

Just as the two boys left, Bruce appeared, "Getting tired of our marriage that you’re already looking for a divorce lawyer?"

Vivian held Bruce’s hand. "Matt, everyone, this is my husband—"

"You're Bruce Wayne!" Karen said, recognizing the man. "I--I saw you on the paper about Wayne Enterprises expanding their operations in New York. He's uh... he's a billionaire. "

"Billionaire," Matt said. "Moving up in the world, huh, Viv?"

"Mr. Wayne, it's a pleasure to meet you." Said Foggy, offering his hand. He didn’t know Matt knew had connections. Then again, from their stories, the last time Matt saw or hear of Vivian was when she and her mother dropped him off in the orphanage.

"Pleasure is all mine,” Bruce shook their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Murdock.”

“Really? You talked about me to your…” Matt gestured to Bruce.

“Of course. I don’t hide things from my husband… unless it’s something I forgot.”

“Why don't we all go out for dinner? The hotel we're staying at has a lovely restaurant, that way we can all catch up without Alfred constantly reminding me about the meter,” he checked his phone and saw the message from the old butler.

"Our treat," Vivian added.

"That would be great! Yes, where do you guys..."

Bruce gave the hotel name.

"Wow, that place."

"How about tomorrow night? I think we got a free schedule then," asked Bruce.

"We can do it tomorrow night. Right guys?" Matt asked his colleagues.

Foggy and Karen agreed.

Turning to Vivian, Matt smiled and said: “We’ll be there.”

“We’ll see you then. Bye, Mattie,” Vivian held his hand for a moment to say her goodbye and joined her husband out of the office.

The room was quiet again until Foggy said: “Wow, that guy’s perfume is good. It got rid of the food smell.”

“Right? Her perfume did the same!” Karen joined in the fun.

“That’s old money right there. Old rich money. Do you think they’re looking for representation partners here in New York?”

Before Karen could say obviously not, Matt said it for her: “ I’m pretty sure Wayne Enterprises has a whole department of lawyers, Foggy.”

“So, how was the trip down memory lane?”

Matt sighed. “It’s… it’s surreal. I never thought she’d—”

“Marry?” Karen asked, quite pointedly.

“I mean, eventually she would just not to…” Matt let out a breath.

“To Bruce freaking Wayne,” Foggy smirked. “That just shows it, we’ve been hanging out with the wrong type of people. Karen, Matt, I’m sorry but from now on I’ll be drinking up in Manhattan—where does Tony Stark drink?”

“I believe he has his own place to drink, Foggy,” Karen laughed.

“Starting tomorrow, I’m going to drink outside of Stark Tower.”

~ * ~

“So, who was that?” Dick spoke out from the couch. He and Tim were sitting on the couch. Bruce was busy on the counter with work, mostly Batman’s work, with Jason giving him the latest thing he found out. But that didn’t stop him from glancing at Dick’s way.

Vivian smiled but she kept her gaze on her laptop and the work she was doing from the hotel. Mostly it was grading papers.

“What happened?” Jason raised a brow.

“Viv made a little detour request to Hell’s Kitchen,” Tim answered.

“The Kitchen? Ma, that place is dangerous—”

“Jason, I lived there for a few years before moving to Liverpool. I know Hell’s Kitchen,” Vivian told him.

“But Ma, come on, you know that you can’t just go there. Not with—”

“Don’t even.”

Bruce sighed. “I tried to tell her,” he whispered to Jason.

But Vivian heard. Closing her laptop, she walked up to Bruce, embracing him from behind and kissed his cheek. Bruce turned to her fully and held her side, with his thumb brushing over her barely protruding belly. Seeing it was a moment between them, Jason packed his things and moved to the couch where Dick and Tim were—he didn’t miss to roll his eyes at them too.

“I would never put us in danger, you know that,” Vivian whispered to him.

“I know but that doesn’t stop me from worrying,” Bruce whispered back. “But this is not Gotham. In Gotham Batman can move even with his hands tied, even with a blindfold. Here it’s the—”

“It’s the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“I was going to say it’s the syndicate’s but that is another thing too.”

She kissed him again, this time on his lips.

“But luckily,” this time she spoke to the boys. “Our dinner tomorrow night will be here in the hotel. So nothing to worry about.”

“We have dinner, with who?” Jason asked. “I didn’t pack clothes for dinner, Ma.”

“Well, we can drop by at the shops later and see what we can get you.”

“I thought Jason was going to…” Tim trailed off.

“For tomorrow night, I was hoping we all could be present for dinner because Bruce and I invited an old friend of mine.”

Dick and Tim’s smile grew and it annoyed Jason more because he didn’t know anything that had something to do with their adopted mother.

“And who is this friend?” Jason asked.

“His name is Matt Murdock and he’s an old friend of mine,” Vivian sat on Bruce’s lap as he pulled her to him. “We were neighbors.”

“What does he look like?”

“Really Jason–”

“Dark hair, dark suit and tie, good looking… you know. Her type,” Dick teased.

Bruce pulled her closer to him and pressed his nose on her shoulder. Vivian caressed his arm to stop the rising jealousy.

“Only thing that’s missing is a mask and spandex, and a dual identity of being a brooding vigilante,” Dick continued. “You know looking at him now, Mr. Murdock is just like Bruce. I mean, the playboy Bruce Wayne. Right you two came when Bruce was already married, back then Bruce is a freaking playboy who would charm women with a smile… just like what Mr. Murdock had when he saw—I mean, when he met Vivian again.”

While other thought about the meeting again, Jason asked what Dick meant by it so Tim answered: “He’s blind, Jason.”

“Oh shit. A hot, blind man, who wears suits, and is blind… you’re right. Dark, charming, brooding, and disabled—”

“I don’t think that’s nice to say about Matt and Bruce,” Vivian said.

Bruce turned to his wife with furrowed brows.

“—he is your type,” Jason grinned.

Vivian snapped her fingers and the magazines on the coffee rolled itselves, levitated, then slapped the boys behind their heads.

“Ow!” They winced.

Taking Bruce’s hand, Vivian pulled him to their room. “You three, dinner won’t be until tomorrow so better wrap up for tonight. Okay? And you guys can go ahead in patrol, Bruce will be a little preoccupied.”

The boys groaned in displeasure and Vivian closed the door of their bedroom in the hotel suite. The next the boys heard was the sound of Vivian squealing as Bruce tossed her to the bed and kissed her deeply.

~ * ~

Despite being in jail, Mr. Wilson Fisk still knew the goings ons in his city. Including who has entered it. The name Bruce Wayne caught his attention. Wayne is a billionaire but his lawyer, Ben Donovan said that Wayne came with family for a business meeting. Wayne Tower is along 53rd and Park Ave. Not in his radar, especially when Stark Tower is along Park Ave too.

But there is a compilation of rats coming to his city.

The Batman has come.

He’s heard about the trouble with the Batman before the vigilante made himself known in the city. Shipments to Gotham have either been sunk, burned, or stopped. His contacts in the city were taken out. Gotham is one of his sources of income as of now to keep himself and Vanessa afloat and even that he’s lost.

He can’t lose the Kitchen either.

“Find him,” Fisk told Donovan. “And get rid of him. Completely. I don’t know how but I want him out of my city.”

Orders were given, so Donovan made it true. It took a little time and some money spent but he got what he needed from a friend across the waters. While muscle and weapons can get the job done, information is still what trumps it all.

And this one presents a great opportunity with the Waynes in Manhattan.

“You were right,” Donovan whispered under his breath. “No one hates the Waynes and the Batman more than Black Mask.”

~ * ~

The dinner he promised Vivian was for tomorrow, not tonight. Tonight he is on a mission, like any other night since that one of the little girl and her father. But this is no ordinary mission because rats have infested the Kitchen.

He heard about the attacks on the scattered gangs, and this was the last warehouse of Fisk’s rogue people, and with those bat vigilantes he’s heard of coming to Hell’s Kitchen and taking out them, he knew they would come here. And he was right.

He could hear them coming, despite their efforts in being quiet with each step and leap they made. But their breaths, their movements, and their heartbeats he could hear.

“Come on! Close it!” The warehouse doors opened. There were five of them, all running thinking they could fortify themselves in the warehouse.

“Shit! Sonny wasn’t joking,” said one of the men.

“But what the fuck is the Bat doing here in Hell’s Kitchen?! He’s supposed to be in Gotham!” said the other.

“Probably got tired of our shit coming to his city. Take out the source of the garbage.”

“You’re not wrong.” It was a new voice, not one of these. And this individual’s heartbeat was steady, like he’s done this before. Like he was a predator and these guys were his prey.

Daredevil adjusted his place on the catwalk to be closer to the young man talking. His voice was muffled, not by a mask but by a helmet maybe? Matt knew the difference all too well.

“It’s the Hood!” One of them called out. Guns were cocked and probably pointed at the man called ‘Hood’.

“Listen guys,” he heard a gun cock. “Either we do this the easy way or we wait for the big guy and we do it his way. Normally I’d rather do it my way, ‘cuz my way’s easier, but I’m here for a favor. And I cannot disappoint.”

“That’s enough, Red Hood. We’ll take it from here,” A new voice came. This one was deeper, filled with rage and it felt like something that melted from the darkness. Even without seeing him, Daredevil knew this was Gotham’s Dark Knight.

“Shit!”

“Hey!” Another one came—no, there’s two of them. Their voices, despite being a bit lower, were familiar to Matt. The three of them sounded familiar. “You guys should have taken the deal earlier.”

“Should have turned yourselves in guys,” said the youngest of them all. “But I appreciate a little bit of action.”

“Probably just sat this one out and watched a movie with Mama Bird then,” the other young man, not Red Hood, said.

“But we came here for a job.”

Are they seriously talking while there’s a bunch of—

Then there it was, Daredevil heard the finger tapping on the trigger, the change of stance and—

Before they could fire, Daredevil threw one of his baton at the hand of the gunman. It startled everyone, even the vigilantes of Gotham, but for the Bat. He could feel the Bat looking at him.

Then all hell broke loose.

Guns were fired, the four Gothamite vigilantes were dodging bullets and knocking out each of these criminals like it was just an errand, and Daredevil fought along with them.

“He with you?” The older young man asked.

Red Hood replied: “Does it look like I work with people who wear spandex? I have more self respect than that, Nightwing.”

“I didn’t think you had one,” the youngest of them said. If he was correct, this would be Robin, since he’s heard about Batman recruiting children to fight crime with him.

With the last man standing, the others knocked out unconscious, Batman grabbed the crawling gang member and pulled him up by his shirt.

“Stop! He’s had enough!” Daredevil caught Batman’s fist. “We can leave them to NYPD.”

There was a tense silence between them, and then Batman shook his hand off and said: “This isn’t over until we have all of Fisk’s men behind bars.”

“They are!” Daredevil called out as Batman walked away, dragging with him the man. He heard the grappling working and the wind shifted. He’s gone up.

Then he heard the guy begging the Bat not to do it.

“Hey, what are you—stop!”

A scream and there was a struggle.

“What’s happening?” Daredevil asked the Batman’s companions.

There was hesitation.

“Tell me, what is he doing?”

“He’s getting information,” said Robin.

“How?!”

“He has him dangling off the railing, man. At the balcony,” answered Red Hood.

And that drop would be to the waters. To make things worse, this guy can’t swim.

There was a shift in the three’s heartbeat, especially from this Nightwing.

Daredevil ran up to where Batman is, ignoring Red Hood whispering, “ Don’t do it.”

“Stop!” Daredevil told Batman.

“Listen to him, man!” said the guy. “I can’t swim!”

“You don’t have to do this,” said Daredevil. “This isn’t your city. They’ll hate you for—”

“When you couldn’t keep your trash out of Gotham, it became my business.”

Batman wrapped a line around the man’s ankle and dropped him. Daredevil caught the line as Batman stepped away.

“IT’S THE TRACKSUITS! THEY GOT THE REST OF IT! I SWEAR!”

“WHERE ARE THEY!”

“FAT MAN’S! THEY’RE AT FAT MAN’S!”

“AUTO SHOP!” Daredevil told Batman as he struggled to pull up the man. “That’s an auto shop in Manhattan!”

Batman stood there for a while—and Daredevil heard it. The voice of an old man in the comms: “I’ve found the location, Sir. Sending it to you now.”

“Thank you, Penny-One. Nightwing, Red Hood—”

“We’re already on it,” Nightwing said.

“PULL ME UP, MAN!”

Batman’s gaze went to the man and Daredevil. “That line’s secured to the railing. You can let go of him and let the NYPD take care of it,” Batman told Daredevil.

Daredevil listened carefully, trying to find a hint of the man lying but Batman’s heartbeat did not change. Not even the slightest. Taking the chance, Daredevil lets go, the man screamed, but he heard the tug of the rope. He didn’t fall. The line was secured. Before Daredevil could ask him why he didn’t tell him, Batman disappeared.

Leaving no trace but for the knocked out criminals in the warehouse.

~ * ~

It was late at night or probably early in the morning when Vivian felt the bed dip beside her, not long Bruce’s arms wrapped around her and his lips kissed her cheek.

“Is it done?” She asked him.

“It is. We’ve finished it,” Bruce kept kissing her. “We’ll go back to Gotham tomorrow.”

Vivian opened her eyes and checked the digital clock beside them. It was around four in the morning now. He’s right, tomorrow they’re heading back home. Turning to face him, Vivian reached to pull him down to her for a kiss.

“I’m glad it’s over,” she whispered.

“Me too.”

“As much as this hotel is fancy, I miss our own bed… and I have to get back to work.”

“I’m sorry if I took you from GU.”

“Well, I insisted I come along. Get some sleep, we promised Matt we’re meeting him tonight for dinner… what’s wrong?”

He stopped with his kisses and the way his eyes were staring into nothing showed her he was in deep thought.

“Bruce.” She pulled him to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It can wait until we wake up later. Go back to sleep, you both need sleep.”

“You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Leave me on a cliffhanger.”

Bruce chuckled. “I thought you liked cliffhangers.”

“I like open-ended stories, not cliffhangers.”

“They’re the same.”

“No they’re not!” Vivian giggled as Bruce kissed her again and again, lowering to her jawline, her neck, and then down her chest where his lips followed his fingers that worked to unbutton her night shirt. He lingered on the two-month bump, he whispered something against her skin—a joke that earned a slap at the shoulder from Vivian. Then he went down further where he pulled down her underwear.

“I can assure you, Pryor, there was never a time” — he kissed her inner thigh — “I left you hanging?”

“It’s late, Bruce,” Vivian yawned but she was sure her sex betrayed her with how wet she was now—anticipating what Bruce was going to do.

“Then go to sleep, I’ll take care of you,” Bruce kissed her lips and purposely nudged his nose against her clit.

“Fuck,” Vivian moaned. Her hands gripped on her pillow and on his hair. “That’s it… that’s it…”

“This isn’t Wayne Manor, Viv. Best to keep it down. You don’t want the boys and Alfred to hear.”

~ * ~

It was early in the afternoon. The phone in the hotel rang, everyone else was still in their rooms, fast asleep—good, they needed the sleep after the consecutive sleepless nights—but for Alfred. Alfred ran to the phone before it could wake anyone and after hearing out the reception telling him there was a call for Mrs. Vivian Pryor-Wayne from a Mr. Matt Murdock, Alfred agreed to take it.

Matt sighed in relief when the receptionist told him that the Waynes agreed to take the call. Before he could hear anyone talking, he said: “Viv, we need to talk. It’s important, can you meet me at—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Murdock,” it was the old man from Batman’s comms. He guessed this was Alfred that Dick and Tim mentioned yesterday. “Unfortunately, Ms. Vivian is still in bed. She and Mr. Wayne and the boys had a late night watching films. Master Timothy enjoyed the room service and renting multiple films. He obligated everyone to sit down and watch the entire Mission Impossible movie franchise.”

Not exactly a lie, Tim did that the first day they were in the hotel while working with Nightwing and Red Hood on their mission.

“Do you have a message that you would like me to relay to Ms. Vivian?” Alfred asked.

“No… I’ll tell her myself. Would you have her number?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Murdock, but I am in no possession to give you or anyone else Ms. Vivian’s personal number or email. If there is anything important you wish to tell her, I can relay your message. But that is all that I may do.”

Stubborn and loyal. Matt wasn’t sure if he should be glad or not about it.

“Nevermind. I’ll try to contact her myself,” said Matt. “Thank you.”

“Very well, Mr. Murdok.”

The call ended and Matt let out a long sigh.

Damnit.

Later that day, when everyone has woken up, Alfred informed Vivian and Bruce about Mr. Murdock’s call. The mention of the man’s name had everyone but Vivian flinching. She noticed that too.

“What did Matt want?” Vivian asked.

“He didn’t say. Mr. Murdock said it was important but he didn’t leave a message. He asked for your personal number but I cannot just give him that, even if he was your old friend,” said Alfred.

“I appreciate that, Alfred. How sweet of you. I’ll probably just call him later,” Vivian said as she ate her breakfast-and-late-lunch. As Alfred excused himself to fix the boys’ suits for tonight’s dinner, Vivian turned to her boys and said: “What happened last night? Did it have something to do with Matt?”

“I'll take it back,” said Jason. “He does check out all the boxes—ow!”

Dick kicked his shin. Jason did the same which had Dick hit his fist on the table. Before they could kick each other more, Tim moved closer to Vivian to stay out of it, Vivian snapped her fingers and locked their legs.

“What do you mean he does check out all the boxes? Bruce?” She turned to her husband who sighed in defeat.

“There’s something you need to know, Viv. Something I’m still not sure about until this morning.”

~ * ~

“I still think it’s stupid that we’re bringing cinnamon rolls to a fancy restaurant dinner,” Foggy said as he, Matt and Karen entered the hotel. Right before they hailed a cab outside their office, Matt asked them to drop by this bakery a few blocks away where he bought a box of cinnamon rolls as a gift for the Waynes.

“It’s a gift, Foggy,” Matt told him.

“But why cinnamon rolls?”

Because Vivian smells like cinnamon. “Because when we were kids we’d always share a cinnamon roll before heading home. And before her Mom would catch us eating one—okay?”

“Ah, so you do have an agenda,” Karen had a lopsided grin.

“She’s married, Matt. Geez.”

“It’s just an innocent gift. For old time’s sake.”

“Are you going to share it with her? Do the Lady and Tramp in front of her husband?”

“Come on, Foggy, stop trying to make something out of this innocent thing.”

They reached the reception and Foggy asked for the restaurant. They were led by one of the staff to the hotel restaurant, which was further inside the hotel, and then to the table where the Waynes sat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Those heartbeats, Matt recognized. There was no doubt about it. Last night, he had a feeling those heartbeats were familiar. The calmness of it, how these four individuals regulated it and kept themselves composed despite the danger.

It can’t be.

“Matt!” Vivian was the first to get up and greet him with a hug.

“Viv, it’s good to see you,” Matt kissed her cheek.

After Vivian released him, she went to greet Foggy and Karen, leaving him to face Bruce Wayne.

“Mr. Wayne,” Matt greeted with his hand out.

“I’m sure we’ve passed that, Mr. Murdock,” Bruce said with that calm and charm but behind it he could hear the deeper, and more imposing tone of the Bat.

“I guess we have.”

“Everyone, you haven’t met. This is Jason, our second,” Vivian introduced the tallest of her boys who wore a suit just like the others but his shirt was red and he didn’t wear a tie.

“Good to meet cha,” Jason offered his hand to Matt.

There was no denying it, Jason was the man wearing a hood or a helmet.

“Have a seat, please,” Vivian gestured to the seats.

The table was a large circle and Karen whispered to Matt to take the empty seat beside Vivian. He’ll be between them. Foggy mentioned earlier that he didn’t trust teenage boys to sit beside her, whether they were “from the streets of the Kitchen or posh socialites who went to prep school.”

“By the way, we got you a gift,” Karen pulled the baby-blue box of cinnamon buns and handed it to Vivian. “Matt insisted we make a stop to get those before heading here.”

Vivian laughed when she saw the box. “They haven’t changed. How long has it been? Thirty years?”

“Give or take,” Matt smiled. “They taste the same too. But time, we don’t have to share it this time.”

“I don’t think we can here, but maybe outside we can open this up. You guys can go ahead and check the menu we just ordered earlier,” A waiter came to assist them. Maybe Vivian informed the restaurant about his disability, Matt thought, because the waiter dictated the entire menu for him from the appetizers, the main course, the beverages, and dessert. After Matt gave his order, Foggy and Karen gave theirs and the waiter left, replacing him as the sommelier came and presented the wine.

“Wow, fancy,” Foggy said after showing the brand and the year, then asked Bruce to taste first before serving but Bruce declined and asked Matt to do it. When Matt declined, Foggy took the task and drank from the glass. “It’s good. Probably the best one I’ve ever tasted.”

Wine was served to all their glasses, but before the waiter could pour into Vivian’s glass, she covered hers and requested for her water instead.

“You don’t drink, Mrs. Wayne?” Foggy asked.

“Please, call me Vivian. I do but I’m obligated to stay sober for a pretty long while,” she smiled.

It was Karen’s gasp that had Matt’s brow furrow. “Why, what happened?” He asked.

Under the table, Vivian reached to take his hand. “Remember when you asked if I have kids?”

“You’re kidding,” Matt couldn’t help his smile.

“I’m not.”

“Congratulations, Viv. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We thought it’s a little too early to give the news. Gotham doesn’t even know yet… just us and a couple of people from Wayne Enterprises’ Board because I barged in their meeting to tell Bruce.”

“Congratulations to you both.”

Their food came soon after and dinner went smoothly with catching up between Vivian and Matt, and the two of them sharing their stories with their friends and family on how they met—it was the day Vivian and Madeline moved to their building, Jack saw them carrying bags and despite his injuries from last night’s match, he helped them out. Matt too picked up Vivian’s things and brought it to the mother and daughter’s new home.

“Remember that one time we tried to Parent Trap your Mom and my Dad?” Matt said, his smile was still there. It was one of the few times Karen saw Matt smile so much in one dinner sitting with other people.

Vivian laughed. “Oh god, that did not work out well.”

“Oh, I thought you guys were old childhood sweethearts,” Foggy joked, but really that was the image he had of Vivian Pryor when he saw the photos from Matt and from the stories he heard

“Foggy!” Karen chastised him.

“What? I think I was clear that we were—Foggy, I told you she was like a sister to me,” said Matt.

With that, Dick, Jason, and Tim —for once, agreed one something—- smirked and sent Bruce a teasing look, which earned a glare from their surrogate father.

“You see, my Mom and Jack—Matt’s Dad—were really close. We have this system in our little family, where there are days Matt would stay with us when his Dad has to work, and I’d stay with them if Mom has a nightshift. We help each other out.

“Then we saw them kiss once. And that’s where we had an idea of setting up a date for them and try to get them together. But in the end we were found out and it didn’t work out.”

“Any reason?” Karen asked.

“Differences,” Vivian shrugged. But mostly because Madeline had so many secrets she can’t share. “So, how did you three end up on the paper? I read about Nelson & Murdock taking down Fisk. That’s interesting.”

“A series of fortunate and unfortunate events,” Foggy said.

“You have no idea,” Karen agreed.

“I take it you guys don’t…”

“For our safety,” Matt smiled at Vivian.

“Got it.”

“And what about you both and the… how old are your wards?” Matt asked Bruce and Vivian.

“Old enough not to be sent up to our room,” Jason answered.

“Same with you a series of events,” Vivian answered, Tim snickered which earned a pinch from her using magic.

Dinner went on with them catching up long than they imagined, eventually their party had to end when they saw some of the tables were already packing up and Bruce mentioned the time. Bruce said he’ll ask the hotel to hail them a cab home, but before they all went their separate ways, Matt asked if he and Vivian could take a “sidebar” for a minute.

“Any reason for the sidebar Counselor?” Vivian teased.

“I was—I—uh—I was hoping we could meet up tomorrow,” said Matt.

“Oh, Matt, we go back to Gotham tomorrow.”

“What time? Let’s meet up before.”

“If it’s important, maybe you can tell me now.”

“Not the right time and place. Just you and me. We can meet somewhere close to your hotel.”

Vivian took a breath. “How about the gym? It’s been a while since I visited that place.”

“Perfect. That place is perfect.”

“Is nine o’clock good? We check out at noon.”

“Yeah, I think that’s enough.”

“Is it something I should be worried about?”

“We’ll see.”

~ 11AM, The Next Day ~

Bruce was already hailing a cab to get to Fogwell’s Gym when he got the call from NYPD with news about his wife. At 9AM, their car was found parked outside of the gym, Vivian Pryor was seen getting out and entering the gym. Nothing happened for a while until neighbors heard gunshots, a ruckus, and then a group of men came out of the gym with an unconscious Vivian over their shoulder and tossed into the car.

Left in the scene of the crime was Matt Murdock, who was getting a good beating and was bleeding.

#batman x reader #bruce wayne #batfam #dc universe #dc batman #batman #batman fanfiction #fanfic #dc comics #dc fanfic #batman x vivian pryor #bruce wayne x vivian pryor #bruce wayne x oc magician #batman x oc magician #DC X Marvel #batman x daredevil #batman and daredevil crossover

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problematicfanfics · 2 years ago

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rant/vent but

since i’m on vacation with my family i’m actually at my wit’s end. i have no privacy. i have been sleeping in the same room as both my parents, my sister and my grandma for the past two weeks. i’m genuinely crying dude. like i can’t be happy around them. they decimate everything i find joy in and everything about myself i like. i’m so over this. sleeping in close quarters is just making me feel like shit again and reminds me of all those fucking years i spent as a kid fucking battling poverty and couch surfing with my family. like i hate it. it’s so traumatizing. my sister has like no memory of it because she was like 3 so for her this is all cutesy poor core aesthetic. i’m ripping my fucking hair out. before we left my mom was hounding me, asking me if i wanted a hair appt, a nail appt, to go buy clothes. i said no. i said the only thing i wanted was a wax because shaving is a pain in the ass. she forgot. but u wanna know what she didn’t forget? my sister’s wax appt. my sister’s chemical hair straightening treatment. all the stores my sister wanted to go to. my sister’s $160 nail appointment. like are u fucking kidding me? then the day before i asked my mom “when is my wax appointment?” and she BLEW UP at me saying i should’ve made it, it’s my job to make it. last month i made a dentist appt for my tooth whitening like she told me to and she got mad because I MADE THE APPOINTMENT. i can’t fucking win. then on top of it all for the first time in like months i wanted to get my nails done bc they’re hella cheap and really high quality in greece and once again, my mom forgot. she said “if you wanted it you should’ve gone.” i said mom, i can’t speak greek like that. i don’t want them to scam me. i don’t know what nails are supposed to cost. i’ve gotten my nails done professionally two times in my seventeen years of existence. idk shit about them. but no, i’m the issue. i’m the fucking issue. every time i open my mouth they say i’m giving them attitude when i’m literally just speaking or asking a question. they say i’m too quiet then yell at me for being too loud. they say everything i enjoy is stupid or childish. they won’t give me ANY personal space. they keep ganging up on me with my sister. my sister has been the biggest thorn in my side though. she’s such a pos. like idk how to explain this to y’all. she’s a fucking brat. we couldn’t be further from different. i’m scared to buy myself food with my parents’ money. my sister spends upwards of $100 a week on food, clothing, makeup, etc. with no regard for my parents’ time or finances. she steamrolls over everyone’s emotions to make room for hers, which are usually disgust and anger, and constantly puts everyone in a bad mood. my dad is ALWAYS out to get me despite the fact i try my fuckin hardest to keep the peace between us. my mom is so fucking bipolar i never know what i’m getting. my dad and mom are at each other’s throats. my yiayia lectures me on shit when i’m mad that isn’t even remotely related to the reason i’m mad ever and it pisses me off even more and i desperately try to give her the benefit of the doubt bc english isn’t her first language but she does the SAME DAMN THING IN GREEK LIKE BRO. i met ONE GIRL in this STUPID fucking horio BUT I LEAVE IN TWO DAYS. AND TOMORROW IM NOT EVEN IN THIS HORIO IM OFF TO THE MAIN AREA. like fuck off bro. and the girl mainly speaks greek which is fine but it gets hard bc i’m not the absolute best in it (i’m sm better in other languages bro no one bothered teaching me greek and you’d THINK my GREEK FAMILY would teach me greek and wouldn’t be mad over the fact i don’t know greek bc yk THEYRE MY FAMILY AND THEYRE SUPPOSED TO TEACH ME but no everything is my fault). and she’s sweet but this is her summer vacation spot so she has hella friends here already and i can tell i’m just “the girl next door she has to hang out with”. i feel bad i don’t want to drag her from her friends or insert myself in her plans but for the first time in god knows how long i felt normal today just because i finally had someone close in age.

elevator music and the smiths have carried the brunt of my emotions these past two weeks i can’t lie.

#yiayia means grandma sorry #and the next island i’m going to is going to be hell also #i always go into a deep manic episode bc i just party and drink all day and night and go feral around town #and i do a lot of shit im not proud of during that time #and also all the kids i usually see every year won’t be there bc we’re going too late this year #and im getting back to NY so fucking late all my grad friends will have left for college already so i didn’t even get to say bye properly #like i wanna cry guys i can’t do it anymore #problematicfanfics #ver's serious discussions

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pencil-n-pen · 4 months ago

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YOUNGBLOOD

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ . ۫ ꣑ৎ . ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

rafe x fem! black cat! pogue!reader

masterlist | kofi | next part

wc: 9.3k (sorry)

summary: summary: You’re the girl. Every guy who asks you out gets the same answer: No. You don’t do dating anymore. But as your reputation grows, so does the challenge. And when Rafe Cameron gets you in sights, he’s not about to give up.

cw: Rafe and reader are both assholes (hers is justified bc to me women are always correct) but it works out. oh also this one is a little spicy !! ofc not full smut but this is Rafe Cameron we’re talking about i can’t NOT include a LITTLE. ward jumpscare for like two seconds, references to past shitty relationships

tags/tropes: he falls first and harder (seriously he wants her BAD) black cat x doberman, kind of how to lose a guy in 10 days vibes, at first Rafe wants her bc of the challenge but eventually he just WANTS her, mild hurt/comfort, dom! rafe but also he does whatever reader wants (except stop trying to date her)

a/n: in this fic i imagine reader being one of those super fluffy feral black cats and then rafe is this doberman sitting behind her. walk him like a dog sis walk him like a dog

i’m so glad i finally finished this i’ve been writing it for ages but here it is !! hope u guys like it <3

EDIT 2: part two is up you heathens :) (affectionate)

songs i listened to while writing: Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summer, Meddle About by Chase Atlantic, Champagne Coast by Blood Orange, Salvatore by Lana Del Rey, Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey, Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey, sex money feelings die by Lykke Li, Angel by Massive Attack and Horace Andy

title taken from Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summer aka this fics anthem

. ݁₊ ⚜️ . ݁˖

He meets you in, of all places, a fucking Barnes & Nobles.

There’s one Barnes & Nobles in the entirety of Kildare Island; it’s on the North side.

Rafe is only there because one of Kelce’s current flings is obsessed with reading those smutty books. Race doesn’t get the appeal. Apparently, the fling is at home sick and Kelce wants to get her something to make her feel better.

Rafe and Topper both think the partying might seriously be affecting his brain chemistry.

But anyway, Kelce asked Rafe to help because he’s “got a way with wooing women” and then since Rafe was going he said fuck it and invited Topper, who will surely be the voice of reason in all of this.

(He seriously doubts it, since Topper almost died in a burning building for the sake of his girlfriend, but whatever. Rafe just doesn’t want to deal with pussy-whipped Kelce by himself.)

They’re on their third go around the store and Rafe is beginning to contemplate the pros and cons of just grabbing the nearest book of the shelf and telling Kelce to just fucking pick something when he spots you:

Straining to reach a book on one of the top shelves. Looking perfectly and immaculately delicious.

“Yo,” He smacks Topper’s arm, getting his attention, “Who the hell is that?”

Topper follows his eyeline, landing on you.

“No fucking way, dude. No chance.”

He frowns, turning and looking at Topper, affronted.

Topper shrugs. “No offense, man. I tried once. All the guys in the island got this stupid-ass nickname for her, too.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Mhm. The Pogue Princess. She’s turned down every single guy to ever ask her out. Even the Kooks.”

Rafe snorts. “So she’s arrogant?”

“I wouldn’t call it that. I totally thought she was a bitch when she turned me down, but honestly, it makes sense. People only ask her out because she always says no.”

“So?” He scoffs. “She’s fucking hot. She should be flattered.”

He looks her up and down again. “I’m gonna ask her.”

He can picture it exactly: having the one and only Pogue Princess hanging off his arm. The girl no other guy has banged— she’d be his, and his only. He’d have those lips and that face— he’d have you.

And you’d have him, of course. Not many girls can say that.

“Suit yourself man. Don’t come crying to me when she turns your ass down.”

He strides over to you, sidling up next to you, leaning against the shelf.

“Hey,”

“No.”

He blinks. “What?”

“No. No I don’t want your number, no I don’t want to sleep with you, no I don’t want to go out with you.” You say, not looking over at him once.

“Well, how come, doll?” He says, leaning down a bit so he’s closer to your height. “We could have a good time, you and me.”

“First of all,” You start, pulling a book off the shelf. “It’s a known fact that Rafe Cameron doesn’t date Pogues. Secondly, I can tell you exactly how this relationship would go. We’d date, and then after a few weeks you’d grow sick of my Pogue-ish ways or something like that. We’d break up, and then I would be seen as even more of a social pariah than I am now. I’d be unwelcome in Pogue spaces because I’d forever be the girl who dated Rafe Cameron just to get her heart broken like all the others, and I’m already a stain on this side of the island, but I’m willing to bet your groupies and fanclub would increase their ridicule if I was ever seen here. So no.”

He lets out a low whistle. “You’ve thought this out.”

“No I haven’t. It’s predictable.”

You re-shelf the book you were holding then walk away, stalking deeper into the store.

He looks back at Topper once, flashing his best friend that dangerous smile.

Topper groans in the distance, all too away of the effect a challenge has on Rafe Cameron.

—

You have to say. You’re a little surprised to feel his continued gaze on your back, even more displeased to hear his footsteps trailing behind you.

“You won’t better your chances by annoying me.”

“I haven’t even said anything.”

“You don’t have to,” You slow your walk, reaching out to tap your hand on the spine of a book you’ve been eyeing for awhile. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“And what does my reputation say about me?”

“That you’re an asshole and a heartbreaker,” You turn and look back at him over your shoulder. “You’re not exactly selling me, here.”

Your eyes latch on something tucked under his arm. It’s the two books he saw you eyeing. His gaze catches yours and he gives you a cocky smirk.

You roll your eyes and turn back around. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Rafe Cameron.”

He trails after you the entire time you’re in the store, picking book after book off the shelf that he sees your eyes even linger on.

“What’s your plan here?” You ask, turning a book over in your hands and scanning the blurb on the back. “Buy the entire store? Woo me with your credit card? You’re not the only guy on the island with a piece of plastic.”

“Pretty sure I’m the guy with the most on his plastic, though.”

You sigh loudly through your nose. “I’m not interested in men who are only interested in me as an object. You want the trophy you get from ‘bagging the Pogue Princess.’ So fuck off.”

You’re so sick of this. Sick of every guy being the same— only being interested in you as an ego boost. No guy has ever been interested in you for you.

And they never will be, so long as you keep turning them down. Every man wants what he can’t have.

“You’re seriously not going to get anything?”

You pause in your storm off, turning around to look at Rafe. “What?”

His arms are laden with a thick stack of books, muscles flexed at the weight of the stack, straining at the sleeve of his t-shirt.

He gestures to the shelves around you. “You must have looked at the entire store. You’re really just going to leave?”

“I’m a Pogue, Rafe. You do the math.”

Your hands clench and unclench on the strap of your bag. You never thought you’d catch the attention of Rafe Cameron. If Sarah’s the Kook Princess, then he’s the Kook Prince. Dating him would give you some major points on the North Side of the Island.

…And ruin your relationship with 90% of the Pogue’s on The Cut.

Besides. Even if you did date him, he would stick around. No way in hell he would. And then you’d be back right where you started.

Your fumbling with your keys out in the small parking lot, groaning as your ancient beater car key once again refuses to turn in the lock when you hear footsteps behind you.

You rub a hand over your face and turn around.

“Can you please leave me alone? Seriously.”

He’s got that stupid smile on his face again and he’s holding something out to you.

A book. Just one.

You take it from his hands cautiously. “You had a whole stack. Why downgrade to just one?”

He clasps his hands behind his back. “Cause you looked at all those other ones once. You stopped at this one three times. Figured you might’ve wanted it.”

You chew your lip. “I’m still not going out with you.”

He shrugs. “Didn’t think you’d change your mind right now.”

He leans down, reaching forward, breath fanning your face. You screw your eyes shut, bracing.

A loud click behind you. He pulls away.

“But you will.”

With that, he turns, walking back into the store. At the doors, he flashes you one last smile.

You take one breath. Two.

You climb into your now unlocked car, tossing the book onto the passenger seat.

When you get home, you won’t be able to stop thinking about how in the moment, you kind of wanted him to kiss you.

—

He finds you at the Boneyard, because of course he does.

You’re sitting on one of the drift wood-slash-benches near the bonfire, pretending like you’re not shivering.

“You know, most people come to beach parties to let loose and have fun. That includes me. Having fun and letting loose does not include you.”

“Oh, come on. This is neutral territory, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What am I allowed to call you?”

“Nothing. Go find another girl to stroke your ego. Or your dick. I don’t care either way.”

He leans down into your space. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Fuck. Off.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “I only came over to give you this.”

This time, instead of holding out a book (that you had, in fact, read in a matter of days. It was as good as you’d thought it’d be) he holds out a jacket. One of those expensive North Face fleeces.

You scrunch your nose. “And why are you giving me that?”

“You’re cold.”

“So?”

“So, I’m being a gentleman.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you knew what that word was.”

He drops the fleece on your head. “Take the fucking jacket.”

You slide it off your head, putting it on and glaring at him all the while.

“I’m only putting this on because I’m cold.”

“Sure you are.”

“This has nothing to do with you. I’m still not dating you.”

“Mhm.”

“I hate you.”

He cracks the same smile he gave you at the bookstore. “Sure.”

He takes a swig of his beer, walking backwards towards his group of friends. “You look good in my clothes, princess.”

You flip him two fingers, and he flips them straight back.

You’ll deny it later that you smiled after the interaction.

—

He shows up at your job. This time, Topper’s with him.

You close your eyes and count to ten, mentally picturing fleeing the country and never having to deal with men again before speaking.

“You know, there’s a term for you right now.”

He smiles that same stupid fucking smile, tapping his fingers on the table of the cafe you work at. He’s seated outside in your section. You highly doubt it’s by mistake.

“Determined? Persistent?”

“A repeat offender,” You say flatly. “Now will you please order and get the hell out here?”

To his credit, Topper looks vaguely uncomfortable with his own presence. Though that might be because you did turn him down particularly brutally. You wince internally. It wasn’t his fault, per se. It was just… not a good day.

Rafe is perfectly capable of handling your top-notch bitch-ery, and secretly, you enjoy the chance to be as openly angry as you want to be.

Rafe pretends to read over the menu. You know he’s only pretending because you watched him read it for five straight minutes when they first arrived. He probably has it memorized.

“I’d like a blueberry muffin,” He says, still smiling. “Just one.”

You scribble it down on your order sheet, then turn to Topper. “And you?”

“Uh,” He clears his throat, “Just a water, please.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Seriously? You came all the way to my job to harass me and that’s what you order? One muffin and a water?”

You write the water down anyway, clicking your tongue. “And the asshole-ery continues.”

“And what would you have us order, then?” Rafe asks, eyeing you from his position at the table.

It’s scary how well he commands a space just by being— he’s Rafe Cameron and he knows it. He exudes power and control.

He’s the exact kind of man you turn down hard. No chance of anything.

“Something actually worth bothering me for,” You slip the notepad into your apron pocket and spin on your heel, “I have other orders and tables to wait. Don’t expect to get your muffin and water soon.”

As you wait and bus the tables that need to be dealt with before your orders are ready, you begin to wonder if you’re going too far.

This isn’t just any Kook. This is Rafe. He could completely and utterly destroy your life if he wanted to.

Maybe you’re better off agreeing to go out with him. Just to be safe. Women don’t turn a man like that down.

Finally, you get their orders out to them, setting them on the table a little less harsh than you were originally planning.

“There,” Can’t quite stop your mouth, though. “Do you want the check now?”

Rafe picks up his muffin, shrugging. “Sure.”

You slide them the bill— you had it ready the second you got the chance. You’d rather not have them here any longer than you have to.

It was hard enough to get a job outside The Cut. You don’t need to give your boss any more reason to fire you.

Rafe tosses a few bills onto the bill and you take it, counting the money.

“You overpaid.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Your total was nine dollars and twenty six cents. You just handed me two hundred dollar bills.”

He tilts his head at you like he’s confused. “I thought you were supposed to tip waiters and shit.”

You blink at the bills. “Yeah like, five dollars. Not two hundred. I don’t even think we accept hundred dollar bills.”

“Tell your manager I’m the one who paid. Can’t take issue with a Cameron.”

“You’re the worst,” You tell him, but take the money back to your manager. He isn’t happy, but like Rafe said— can’t take issue with a Cameron. He gives you the change you need and bores holes into your back with how hard he’s staring as you walk the money back.

“Here.” You thrust your arm out, handing him the change.

Rafe crosses his arms. “I said that was your tip.”

“I can’t accept this. I don’t accept pity money.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not pity money.”

“Then what kind of money is it? Cause it sure feels like pity money. Oh wait, is this you-owe-me-now money?”

He groans. “Can’t you just take the fucking money?”

“Not if there’s a consequence.”

If Topper looked uncomfortable before, he looks almost nauseous now. You kind of feel bad for him.

Rafe scrubs a hand down his face. “Will you just take it? No consequence.”

“Why?”

Topper chokes on his water.

“Why?” Rafe asks, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Because it’s what I do. You’re the Pogue Princess, yeah? I’m giving you the princess treatment.”

“But why? What do you gain from this?”

“I’m just gonna go wait at the car,” Topper says, getting up so quickly he bumps the table.

Rafe’s eyes never leave you, the money still clutched in your hand. “You know what I get out of this? The prettiest girl on the island in my clothes. The prettiest girl on the island spending my money.”

The bills start to crinkle in your grip. “I’m a Pogue. You don’t date Pogue’s.”

He stands, pushing back his chair in a much more controlled manner than you were expecting, given the look on his face. “Have you ever considered that you’re the exception?”

“No, because I’m not. The only part of me that’s an exception is the challenge. That’s all you want.”

Something flashes in his eyes. His gaze is dark where it scans your features, something calculating in his eyes.

“Some guy fucked you over, huh?”

Your near full body flinch is a dead giveaway. “Fuck you, Rafe. You’re an asshole.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Probably. But I’m gonna keep showing you what this,”

He gestures to the both of you. “Could be like. I’m not that kind of asshole. Not to girls who look like you.”

He stands, taking all the change out of your hand except the $100 bill.

“Hold onto that for me,” He says, voice husky as it brushes your ear.

His hand comes up for one second, two, and then he lowers it. Like he’d had to restrain himself ok touching you.

An involuntary shiver runs down your spine. He smirks at the reaction.

And then, he’s gone. Now you’re just some waiter standing at a table with a $100 clutched in your hand.

You shake yourself out of your stupor, getting busy bussing the table. You notice something fluttering under his plate.

An old receipt with a number scribbled on it.

And a $20 bill.

“Son of a—“

—

You’re having a really bad day. One of those thirty-million-minor-inconveniences-in-a-row days. With one last fuck you from the universe on top.

You couldn’t get your hair right no matter how many times you tried, your makeup is rushed and bad because you spent too much time on your hair, once again one of your neighbors pulled out of their driveway without looking and almost killed you, a guy tried feel you up during your shift and your manager told you it was your fault for wearing revealing clothing (you were literally wearing your uniform) and then top it all off, your car won’t start. It won’t even try.

You slam your head against the steering wheel. Your boss made you stay late because of the incident so it’s getting dark now. You’re not walking all the way back to The Cut. But you don’t know how you’re getting home. It’s not like you can just call a mechanic. None of your pogue friends have cars and only person who does you’d… rather not call right now.

So that just leaves one option.

A really, really, terrible option.

A horrific one.

You curse as you rifle through your purse, pulling out the old receipt. Your phone’s almost dead, so you have to make this count.

You dial the number, pulling your knees to your chest and sinking low in your seat.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Rafe.”

“I was wondering when you’d call me.”

“I’m sure you were,” You say flatly. “Listen I… I need a favor.”

“Spill.”

“I’m at work. My car won’t start. I just—“ You break off, frustrated tears welling in your eyes. “Can you please come pick me up?”

“I’m on my way. Sit tight.”

He hangs up the phone and you sigh, scrubbing your face and willing the tears to just go away. You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, probably smearing your makeup past the point of return, but you can’t find it with in yourself to care.

You sit there for what feels like minutes, hands pressed to your face trying desperately to stop the tears that keep flowing when you hear a car pull up next to you.

You sit up, hands lowered, eyeing the sleek Range Rover that just pulled up next to you.

You manage to climb out of your car, hugging your waist in an act of self-soothing and a sad attempt at getting warm. It gets cold in Kildare at night.

Rafe rounds the front of his car, expression pinched.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, really, just…” You trail off, gesturing vaguely to your car. You sniff hard, rubbing the back of your hand across your face. “It’s just been a long day.”

He looks over your shoulder, assessing your car before looking back to you. “Get whatever you need from your car.”

You rush to gather the items from your car, piling them in the backseat at Rafe’s direction. You turn, facing him when something is thrown at your face.

It’s disturbing that you recognize it by deja vu alone.

“Rafe—“ You say, taking the jacket in your hands.

“You’re cold. Put it on.”

“But—“

“Listen, princess, I’m perfectly satisfied waiting here all night until you put that on.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the car.

You squeeze the jacket in your hand. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That.”

“Mmm,” He hums. “That’s a tough one. Probably cause you look pathetic when you shiver.”

“I do not.”

“You totally do. You get all hunched. Like an old lady.”

“Is this your idea of flirting?”

He smiles. “Put the jacket on.”

You do. It’s just as warm as last time.

He nods his head towards the car and you climb into the passenger seat, clicking your seatbelt.

He climbs in after you, putting his seatbelt on and pulling the car out of the parking lot. After a moment, he reaches across the console, turning on your seat warmer and cranking the heat up.

“Thank you,” You say after a moment.

“I told you I’d show you what life would be like if you were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” He says, fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “Mine.”

“So you’d have me, what? Caged? Chained to you.”

“Spoiled, is the word I’d used.”

“I’m not an object, Rafe. I’m not going to be some kind of kept woman.”

He snorts. “Who said anything about that?”

“That’s what you want, is it not? Want me to have no personality, no nothing. You want me to hang off your arm and laugh at everything you say—“

“Fuck no,” He says so vehemently you pause. “You’re so fucking mouthy. And stubborn. If I wanted some brainless fangirl, I’d go find one. I wouldn’t pick her up from her job and drive her home. Probably wouldn’t give her my fucking jacket.”

You look up at him. “You wouldn’t?”

He shrugs. “None of those girls tell me to fuck off.”

“So it is the challenge. That’s all.”

“That’s not all. You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. Come on. No guy has ever given you his jacket? You seriously want me to believe you look like that no one’s ever spoiled you?”

“No,” You say curtly, “You want me to believe that every guy just enjoys spending a bunch of money on a girl?”

“Not a girl. Their girl. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Cause it’s not your job to get it. It’s your job to be spoiled. Now where the hell am I going?”

You give him a vague address— just the street name and how to get there. You’re not stupid enough to give him your house address.

You don’t talk for the duration of the drive, you begin to shrug out of his jacket when a hand on your thigh stops you.

“Keep it. You can give it back to me the next time you see me.”

“There’ll be a next time?”

“If I have anything to say about it.”

You slowly put the jacket back on, then hastily climb out of his car, barely remembering to grab your stuff from the back.

You pause by the window. He rolls it down.

“Um. Thank you. Again.”

His lips twitch. “Don’t mention it.”

—

You don’t see him for a full two weeks after that.

After the first week, you figure he’s busy.

After the second week, you assume you scared him off.

You’re out on your old, busted kayak on the water, enjoying the early evening sun.

“Afternoon, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,”

You look over, eyeing Rafe and Sarah on one of the Cameron’s smaller boats. Sarah waves at you kindly. She’s always been fairly kind to you—

“Princesses have to stick together.” She’d said to you once, an easy smile on her lips, her face bathed in an orange glow in front of the bonfire.

A similar smile is on her face today. But the one on Rafe’s is nothing but mischief.

“Why don’t you come over here?” He calls.

You flip him a certain finger.

“Come on!” Sarah yells. “We’ve got beer!”

Well. Who are you to say no to free alcohol?

—

You should’ve said no to the free alcohol.

“You know what Rafe?” the words tumble out of your mouth, clumsy. “You’re really hot. It’s not fair. How am I supposed to hate you when you look so hot?”

You’re sitting on one of the benches on the boat, half leaning on the back of it and half leaning on Rafe.

You might have forgotten to take into account the fact that you’re a lightweight.

He raises an eyebrow. “How many beers did you have?”

“Don’t worry about that,” You slur, attempting to shush him but failing halfway through, your hand falling harmlessly into his lap. “I like beer. I like drinking. How come I don’t drink often?”

You pause, squinting at him. “How come you’re so hot?”

“Yeah,” He sighs, “You’re drunk.”

“Who cares? I like being drunk. Drunk me is fun. Like that one song. Release your in-hi-bitions— feel the rain on your skin!”

He gives you a pained look. “Please don’t try to start dancing. You don’t have the coordination for it, and I’m not going into the water when you tip overboard.”

“Pshhh, yeah you would. You like taking care of me. Cause you’re weird.”

You turn to face the other side of the boat, where Sarah is watching you with an amused expression. “Sarah! Did I tell you that he drove aaaaaaaallllllllll the way to my job to pick me up cause my car wouldn’t start?”

She tilts her head, looking at Rafe. “You told Dad you were going to go pick up Topper and Kelce from a party so they didn’t drunk drive.”

You make a so-so motion with your hand. “That’s like. Basically the same thing.”

“It is not. You really are a lightweight, huh?”

You squint at Sarah. “Did John B. tell you that?”

She splutters. “No, I—“

You cross your arms, frowning. Then you turn to look up at Rafe again. “I should’ve called John B. to pick me up, cause he’s the only Pogue I know who’s got a car. But I didn’t. I called you.”

“Mm,” Rafe says, his jaw tensing and un-tensing. “And why is that.”

“Cause he’s being a dick. He’s all upset ‘cause I’m hanging out with you, keeps telling me I’m gonna get hurt again and blah blah blah, but then, it turns out he’s been dating Sarah for weeks and he didn’t tell me! It’s the same thing! And we’re not even dating.”

Rafe looks at Sarah. “You’re dating him? That’s who you broke up with Topper for?”

She glares right back at him. “There is literally a Pogue in this boat right now who is only here because you want to date her. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“She’s different.”

“How?”

You and Sarah ask the same question at the same time. Rafe sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She’s not just some random Pogue I picked up off the street.”

“I could have been.”

“You’re not helping.”

You frown, staring at your feet.

He gazes at you for a moment. “She’s just… different.”

You blink up at him through your lashes. “You should kiss me.”

“No.”

“Why not?” You whine.

“Because when sober-you remembers all of this, she’s already going to kill me.”

“Not to mention I would.” Sarah grumbles, taking a sip of her own beer. “Come on, Rafe. You should bring her home. It’s getting late anyway.”

“Mm,” He hums, glancing at you up and down. “You wanna go home?”

“No. There’s no beer and Rafe there. S’ boring.”

“I’m pretty sure sober-you likes it that way.”

“Then she’s boring,” You poke the muscle of his bicep. “Do you work out?”

“Yes.”

“Are you buff?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Could you carry me?”

“Probably.”

“Hmm,” You sink lower on the bench, kicking your feet. “Okay. We should go home before sober-me figures out what’s going on.”

Sarah brings the boat back to their little dock while Rafe makes various attempts to keep you awake during the journey.

You whine, batting his hands away as he pokes your face.

“We’re here, so you’re gonna have to get up.”

You groan. “You’re a big strong man. Carry me.”

You hear a huff, a sigh, and then arms come around your middle and you let out a half-aborted scream as you’re hefted into the air, stomach landing on a muscled shoulder.

“I was joking,” You mumble, your arms dangling. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“I swear to fucking— here.”

He slides you off his shoulder and you wobble as you land, vision swimming.

“I think I’m a lightweight.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?”

“Why are you so mean?”

“I was told by a certain princess that it was my brand.”

“I wanna go home.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to walk then? Towards my car? So you can go home?”

You turn (slowly) and squint at his car in the distance. “That seems really far away.”

“It’s not.”

“I don’t wanna walk that far.”

The muscles in his jaw jump. “Just this once, because I need to get you home, and you are drunk, I am going to offer you a piggy-back ride. Got it?”

“Hmm. Okay.”

He stoops a little so you can hop on, then hooks his arms under your legs with only a mild grunt, your arms crossing —not too tight— around his neck.

He makes his way across the deck and up the path, silently, your cheek pillowed on the side of his neck.

When he makes it to the car he opens the passenger side door and slides you into it, clicking your seat belt on when your fingers fumble with it.

He’s silent the entire drive, jaw clenched and hands white knuckled on the steering wheel.

The silence practically thrums with anger, the charged air prickling your skin.

“Are you mad at me?”

He works his jaw. “No.”

“It seems like you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Then how come you’re upset?”

He sighs out through his nose. He doesn’t respond right away. Waits until he pulls over at the front of your street, sets the car in park. His hands don’t leave the steering wheel.

“You’re… squishier than I thought.”

“You think I’m fat?”

“No- fuck. I’m saying you’ve got a convincing stone-cold-bitch act. Then you go and get drunk and turn into this. Makes me feel like a piece of shit.”

You cross your arms. “You don’t like it. Me.”

He finally looks over at you, his eyes hooded. “I never said that. It’s one thing for us to have this back and forth assholery, as you put it. But now I know this is also who I’m being a dick to.”

You look down at your lap. “You know, I wasn’t always a stone-cold bitch.”

He cuts you a look. “Stop talk—“

“No, you shut up, I’m not that drunk anymore,”

You’re totally lying, which he knows, but he lets you talk.

“There was… this guy. I really liked him. He really liked me. Well, I thought he did. He was a Kook, too. Everyone warned me against getting with him, but I thought what we had was real,” You clench your hands on your thighs. “It wasn’t. Turns out his friends had dared him to sleep with ‘the prettiest Pogue he could stomach.’ That’s all I was. The only Pogue he could stand to fake it with. He told me the morning after. We broke up.”

“Who—“

“It doesn’t matter. I’m telling you this so you understand that I am a frigid bitch, but I’m also… this. So you better not fuck this up.”

He chuckles. “What do you want me to do, then?”

You shrug. “Prove me wrong. And I’m not made of glass. You just gotta… take it.”

Rafe raises a single eyebrow. “Take it?”

“Look, I already told you I think you’re hot. You’ve got a brain. Put the pieces together.”

He rubs a hand across his jaw. “And if I go too far?”

“I’m not that fragile.”

He crosses his arms, biceps flexing. “You sure about this?”

“Right now? Yes.”

He hums. “I should say no. You’re drunk. You’re not in the right mind to make these kinds of decisions.”

“But?”

“I’d rather test this and see,” He leans down, across the middle console, eyes hooded and hungry as he stares down at you. “You’re on, pretty girl."

—

When you wake (in your own bed, shockingly) it’s to the sound of a chainsaw right next to your ear.

Oh. It’s actually just your phone buzzing.

You hit the accept button and roll over onto it instead of doing all the effort of lifting it onto your face.

“H’llo?”

“Morning, princess.”

You groan. “Why the fuck are you calling me?”

“You don’t remember last night?”

“You’re on, pretty girl.”

You groan again, this one long and drawn out. “Why did you let me drink? You should’ve thrown me off the side of the boat after the first beer.”

You’re utterly mortified at how you acted. There’s a reason you don’t really get drunk anymore.

“And get rid of my free show like that? Please.”

You huff, head pounding at the effort of remembering the night before and speaking. “Why’re you calling me?”

“Had to make sure all that drinking didn’t kill you. We’ve got plans tonight.”

You sit up a little in bed. “No we don’t. I have work tonight.”

“That’s your only dispute?”

“I figured I didn’t have to state the obvious ones.”

“Come on. It’s just a little party—“

“I don’t do parties, Rafe.”

“I recall seeing you at the boneyard more than a couple times.”

“Bonfires on the beach don’t count as parties.”

“So you’d come if it was on the beach?”

“No, I—“ You tap the speaker button, dropping the phone into your lap. “What’s the point of this party, exactly? You want to be seen in public with me? Want everyone to know I’m off limits?”

“Yes,” He says it so easily, though his voice a little rough, a little gravelly, “But you also need to lighten up. I’ll pick you up from work. Bring clothes to change into.”

You open your mouth to respond but the hang up tone beeps steadily in your ear.

Of course you had to go blab your tragic backstory to Rafe fucking Cameron.

—

Work is long as usual, and you’ve contemplated quitting several times by the time you’re changing into your ‘party’ clothes in the bathroom, ignoring the fact that Rafe has definitely been parked and waiting for half an hour.

Your boss kept you late. Again.

You rush out to his car, cursing. He’s leaned up against the passenger side door, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone. He looks up when you approach, the corners of his lips twitching.

He pushes off the car, opening the passenger side door and nodding towards it.

“You look good.”

You pause, shouldering your work bag. “That’s it? I keep you waiting for thirty minutes and that’s all you say?”

“Did you want me to get upset?”

“Well, no, but—“

He shrugs. “Don’t care. Get in the car.”

He closes the door after you then climbs in himself, cranking up the heat and driving towards the boneyard.

You notice his eyes flicking down to your thighs every now and then. When picking an outfit for the party/bonfire/whatever, you’d decided to go simple. Having Rafe follow you around would be attention enough.

Still, the jeans you’re wearing are tight. A bit more form-fitting than your usual attire.

He seems to notice.

You shift in your seat, a little self conscious under the heat of his gaze crossing your legs and angling them towards the car door.

He sighs. “Mm-mm. None of that.”

He reached a hand across the console, deft, strong fingers effortlessly hooking and curling over your knee and dragging your legs back over and closer to him. Once he resituates you, his hand travels a little higher, squeezing and rolling the plush flesh there in his hand.

Your breath hitches. “What are you doing?”

“Taking.”

You swallow heavily, nearly choking on the lump in your throat. “You better not act like this at the boneyard.”

“And what if I do?“

“I’ll leave.”

He snorts. “I’m your ride. You gonna walk home? In the cold?”

“It’s not cold out.”

“It is to you. You’re always shivering. You better have brought the jacket.”

He doesn’t have to say which jacket for you to know which one he’s referring to.

You cross your arms, firmly ignoring the hand still intermittently squeezing your thigh. “I did. But i’m serious, Rafe. You have to back off when we get there.”

“Mm,” He hums. “Then at least let me have a little now.”

There’s something in the way he says it. The timber of his voice, the low, almost croon to his tone. He says it like you’re in control. Like you have power over him.

Even just the idea of it is exhilarating.

You push your thigh up into his hand, just a little bit.

“Only cause you’ll be insufferable if I don’t.”

He curls his hand under your thigh, palm pressed to the side and fingers pressing into the muscle through your tight jeans.

“Thanks, baby.”

“I’m not your baby.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You pull up to the beach, party already well under way.

People cheer as Rafe climbs out of the car, but he ignores them in favor of walking over to your side of the car and offering you a hand, which you swat away.

“I’m not an invalid.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re really hard to be polite to?”

“You’re just—“

“For the love of god, don’t start with that shit. Get over here.”

He snakes an arm around your waist, tugging you to his side. He starts towards the beach and you squirm, not wanting to be seen tucked under his arm.

This is the exact scenario you’d wanted to avoid with this whole thing. Showing up with Rafe Cameron —literally climbing out of his car— and having his arm around you is the perfect way to be ostracized by almost ninety percent of your circle.

“Will you chill the fuck out?” Rafe says, slowing to a stop a little ways away from the party, turning you to face him. “We’re just going to a party.”

You attempt to shrug his arm off your shoulder, but it holds fast. “You don’t get it. You have money, so you don’t need a community to fall back on. We’re poor. All we have is each other. So if I walk over there with you, i’ll lose it. I’ll be a traitor.”

His expression twists. “You’re blowing this so far out of proportion it’s not even funny.”

Anger begins stirring in your chest. “Rafe—“

“Who cares? No seriously, who the fuck cares? Everyone on this island is a piece of shit in their own ways. No one gives a shit if I got you under my arm. No one’s watching you. You’re not a fucking celebrity. You’ve got a reputation for turning down guys, you’re not fuckin’ Taylor Swift.”

The anger fades and your skin prickles in its absence. “I don’t think that I’m famous or anything.”

Rafe’s features smooth into something a little calmer. “I know, I know. Is this cause John B’s being a dick?”

“He has a point—“

“No he doesn’t,” Rafe snorts, “He’s dating my sister. He doesn’t get to say anything.”

You sigh. “They’re just worried about me making the same mistakes again.”

His arm leaves your side and you resist the shiver that threatens to overtake you at the sudden loss of the warmth and stability you hadn’t realized you’d been reliant on during the length of the conversation.

Rafe slides a gold ring off his pointer finger— the gold ring. The Cameron signet ring. The ring he never takes off.

He takes your hand, turning it palm side up, and drops the ring in it.

“There. My dad would probably murder me if anything happened to that ring. If I become a real and serious dick to you, chuck it in the fucking ocean.”

You stare down at it. “This is real gold. It’s a family heirloom. You can’t just give it to me.”

“I’m not,” He says easily, “This is a loan. When you decide that I’m not gonna fuck you over, you can give it back.”

You close your fingers around the ring, still warm from his finger. You tilt your back, looking up at him through your lashes. A small smile starts to spread across your face.

“I’ve really got you wrapped around my finger, huh?”

He huffs a laugh, tucking you under his arm again and walking you towards the party. “Took you long enough.”

The party honestly is fun after that. You drink (not much, Rafe carefully watches your alcohol intake and makes sure you toe the line of tipsy, but don’t fall over into drunk territory. He spends the night nursing one beer, claiming designated driver whenever someone gives him shit for it.

“Never stopped you in the past.”

“Didn’t have precious cargo before.”

He stays true to your earlier agreement and remains fairly hands off, but follows you around the party like some sort of guard dog, lingering just over your shoulder and successfully scaring off every guy who even looks in your direction.

Some of the pogues do give you the occasional glare or judgmental look or two, but Rafe was right. No one cares.

It’s… nice. For once you’re not hoping no guy approaches you or praying a Kook doesn’t start some shit with you. With Rafe trailing behind you, one hand in his pocket and jaw set, you truly are free to just enjoy the party, for the first time in your life. No one’s trying to hit on you, no one’s trying to making a spectacle of trying to convince you to date them, no one is making snide comments.

It’s weird, because you’re accustomed to a certain kind and amount of anxiety that comes with going to a mixed party, but everytime you start wondering how things are going to go wrong, Rafe is there with an arm around your waist or some stupid comment or other about somebody at the party whispered in your ear.

You manage quite a bit more socializing at the party than you usually do. Unfortunately, between this and the alcohol, you tire pretty quick.

You trip over your third stick when Rafe settles a hand on your hip with an “Think it’s time you went to bed.”

You groan. “But I’m actually having a good time for once.”

He steers you in the direction of the car. “Well, you’re in luck, cause if you think you’re going to parties alone from now on, you got another thing coming.”

Rafe at your side —a seemingly permanent arrangement now— you stumble your way towards the car.

“Isn’t that boring for you?”

“If it was, I’d say something. Besides. There’ll be different parties. Stop worrying so much about shit.”

His words seem harsh, but his tone is nothing other than low and fond.

“I’m cold.”

“I told you to grab the jacket—“

“I did bring it—“

“Then why aren’t you wearing it?”

“It didn’t match the outfit!”

“Are you being serious right now?”

"Is it a crime to want to look good at a party--"

He chuckles, fingers flexing on your hip as he tugs you closer to him. "You're so stupid."

"Rude."

"Not rude if it's true."

You elbow his side, but he just laughs louder.

Unsurprisingly, he warms the car for you when you get in.

—

Storms are a common thing in Outerbanks. Everyone's used to them. Monsoons, thunder storms, even the occasional hurricane. So you're not surprised to get the warning, not surprised when it hits.

You are a little surprised to wake up pelted with rain, a tree branch in your room, and part of the roof missing.

"Shit," You gasp, pushing the fallen debris off your body and rolling out of your bed to assess the damage.

It's bad. The branch is big and long, probably from that stupid tree your neighbors refused to cut down that you said was going to be a storm hazard. They'd refused, and now there's a huge tree branch that's caved in your roof and part of the wall that separates your bedroom from the living room.

No one is home but you. No one ever is, but right now it causes tears to rise to your eyes, because there's a branch in your room, and the roof is in pieces, and now that you've stopped moving, your legs and arms and torso actually hurt quite a bit, and something warm and wet is running down your temple and when you touch your fingers to it, they come away wet and scarlet.

You're out of your depth and you're scared. You can't stay here, obviously, but you don't know what to do. No one else is home. You don't even know who to call. JJ is out, because who knows if his dad is home and he doesn't even have a phone right now, Kie's out too because her parents didn't like that you were a Pogue with a reputation, you and Pope aren't that close, and John B is... John B. He has a car, at least, and you grew up together, so he'd probably overlook everything between the both of you if you're in danger.

You snatch you waterlogged phone off your dresser, shaky fingers scrolling through your contacts, thumb hovering over John B's.

You should call him. You've been neglecting your friendship with the group recently, working around the clock and Rafe whisking you away. Everyone's busy in their own way, what with the treasure and everything, so this could be a moment to reunite, bond over how shitty the storms make life on the Cut.

There's one other person you could call.

You shouldn't. Should stick to the friends you know, call John B.

But if you called Rafe, he'd come. He'd come get you, and probably take you back to his house and you wouldn't have to worry about anything, because for some reason, he's serious about doing that.

You could call him. He probably wants you to.

You press call before you can talk yourself out of it.

"Do you know what time it is--"

"A tree branch fell on my roof and now I don't have part of my roof and I'm really cold and wet and please come get me."

"Jesus— okay, yeah, yeah I'm coming. Shit, okay. Are you hurt?"

"My head is bleeding and I'm battered all over, but I don't think I need to go to he hospital."

"You're bleeding from your head and you don't think you need to go to the hospital?"

You can hear the sound of a car door slamming and an engine turning over.

"I don't want to go because then I'll be stuck in these clothes and they'll poke and prod at me and it'll take ages and—"

"Alright, alright. Calm down. How bad is the damage to the house. Look around for me."

"Um," You turn in place, scrutinizing the disaster and chaos around you. "I think most of the roof is intact, just the portion that covers my bedroom and some of the living room are uncovered. The branch took out most of the wall that seperates my room from the living room."

"Fuck. Okay, what about the rest of the house?"

"Um, I don't think I can get to it. The tree branch and other house... pieces are blocking my door."

"Can you get out? At all?"

"Yeah, I think through my window."

"Don't move. Take what you need from your room. I'll be there soon."

“Please don’t hang up.”

The line goes silent and you think he has hung up, that you didn’t say it fast enough or he just didn’t care, but then he speaks.

“Would you rather I sneak you in my house or walk in through the front door?”

“…What are the pros and cons?”

“Well, getting in the front door is easiest, but then you risk seeing my parents and my Dad won’t have questions, but Rose will, and I never want to answer her questions anyway.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“She is. Sneaking you in is harder, but then we avoid conversations, but if we get caught, conversations will probably be worse. Might become a whole lecture.”

“They’d lecture you for taking in a girl who needs help?”

“Rose would.”

He keeps talking the entire way to your house, his voice speaking in low tones as you gather up the things you need to spend an indefinite amount of time away from home.

He eventually does hang up when he arrives, so you turn your attention to prying your window open and climbing out of it.

You can barely get it wedged open enough to fit through, so you toss your bag through first and shout a quick “over here!” before beginning to crawl through.

You hear footsteps slow to a stop in front of you. “You know, usually when this scenario happens, you’re facing the other way around.”

You swat at his leg. “You’re disgusting. And I’m not stuck. You just arrived at an in-opportune moment.”

He curls a hand under the window and pulls up, making the gap wider. At the sudden release of tension you yelp, tumbling out of the window.

“You’re such a mess.”

“You didn’t warn me!”

He helps you to your feet and leads you to his car, the hand on your waist keeping you distracted from the wreckage behind you.

—

You do decide in the end to just walk in the front door, because you’re cold and wet and tired.

Ward does wake up and meets you at the staircase (you’re pretending not to notice the sheer opulence of the house) looking rumpled and confused.

“Who’s this?” The man asks, gesturing your rather pathetic looking form.

“My girlfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, “Branch fell on her roof. Place is a mess.”

You wave hello. “Sorry for waking you, Mr. Cameron.”

His gaze flicks to you for a second, then back to Rafe.

“Girlfriend?” His tone sounds… off. “How long has this been a thing?”

Rafe shifts, squaring his shoulders and stepping a little more in front of you. “A little while.”

Ward hums again, eyes flitting to you, taking in your appearance.

“Make sure you get the first aid kit. That head wounds looks nasty.”

Rafe nods. “We got it. Thanks, Dad.”

Ward just dips his head once, then steps back into the bedroom.

You let out a long sigh, pressing a hand to your chest.

“I thought he was going to throw me out.”

“He wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

You snort. “Yes, yes, you’re a big strong man. Can we attend to my wounds now? And get some dry clothes?”

Cleaning your wound doesn’t take long, mostly because your head is the only one that really needs cleaning. The rest is taken care of in the shower. The most luxurious and amazing shower of your life. Seriously. You didn’t even know showers could be this relaxing.

The warm water soothes your aching muscles, and Rafe has weirdly good taste in bodywash.

He’d left you a change of clothes and a spare towel even though you said you brought your own.

You change into his anyway.

They’re more comfortable. Better quality than your ratty pajamas.

Your underwear is a different matter. Your dresser is old and broken —as most things in your house are— and the drawer you picked to store your underwear in doesn’t close all the way. This normally isn’t an issue, but when your roof is suddenly no longer attached, it means the a good portion of your underwear got soaked and muddy.

Except the ones at the bottom of the drawer. So the only underwear you had to bring to Rafe’s that was clean and dry is the tiny, lacy stuff you bought from Victoria’s secret and only wear when you’ve taken an everything shower and need a little pick-me-up. When you want to feel like a hot piece of ass. Girl things.

So you look at yourself in the mirror, clad in your own tank top (it’s actually warm enough in his house to wear a tank top to bed) and a pair of his pajama pants, the draw-string pulled tight, the fabric sagging low on your hips, showing off a thin little strip of lace.

Your face flushes. You look like his girlfriend. Dressed in his clothes, lacy underwear peaking through, skin freshly washed and smelling of his body wash.

When you step out of his bathroom, old clothes clutched in your hand, he stills.

He sits back on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his elbows as you slowly saunter over, steps quiet.

His eyes flick down to the lace, pauses on the sight, then back up to your face.

The air is charged, thick with tension.

You pull away from it, tossing your clothes in your backpack and ignoring the heat of his gaze on your back.

“Come over here.”

You straighten, hands behind your back as you walk to him.

“Closer.”

You step forward, now standing between his legs.

His hands come up to the back of your thighs, tightening, before moving to your hips. His thumbs ghost over the edge of the lace, and he rumbles something deep in the back of his throat.

“I like these.”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.”

He presses his face forward, pushing your tank top up with his nose pressing his lips to the now exposed skin of your stomach.

You gasp, then feel him smile against you. He tugs you closer, face pressed to you and hands gripping your sides, just above the edge of your ribcage.

Tentatively, you reach a hand down, sliding from the top his head, down the side of his face, then slowing to a stop at his jaw, pushing your palm up. His head lifts, his eyes a little glassy, chin resting on your stomach.

“You introduced me as your girlfriend.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you are.”

“I am?”

You stroke a thumb over his face, sweeping over his cheekbone and under his eye. He leans into the touch, pliant.

“You think I let just any girl in here? You think I give any girl my clothes?”

“Yes?”

“Come on, baby. We’ve been over this.”

He presses another kiss to your stomach, mouth hot and lips firm.

He lifts his head up again. “You can make me yours anytime you want. Just say the word.”

“I’m scared,” you whisper, words barely even a breath.

“Mm,” He hums, hands running up and down your sides. “You think too much.”

You pause for a few moments, taking everything in.

You grab his hand, leave it palm side up in front of you, then reach into your pocket and drop something into it.

The ring. His ring.

He stares at it for a beat, then closes his hand around it, slipping it back onto his finger.

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He grins.

Your drop your hands around his neck and he moves his hands to the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you onto his lap, wrapping your legs around his middle.

He doesn’t waste any time kissing you. It’s hot and full at first, a roaring flame licking in both your chests, like he’s been holding himself back all this time and finally let it all out. He pushes up into you, and the kiss deepens before it mellows out, slowing down to a few cracking embers.

He pulls back, your noses brushing. “Been wanting to do that since the fucking bookstore.”

“That long?”

“Mhm. You were wearing those cute little pants and you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Wanted to have you right there.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Mm. Only when it comes to you.”

You fall into each other again, and again, and again.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“I really like you in lace.”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

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rafesangelita · 5 months ago

Text

♡ not only is rafe cameron your mortal enemy, but he’s also, unknowingly, your nsfw tumblr mutual??

warnings: mean!rafe, enemies to ???, sexting, dirty talk, sending and receiving of nudes, mentions of death, very light angst, mentions of social status, insults used as flirting loll, small time skip

a/n: this is sorta canon, only in the sense that ward is dead and rose is off somewhere with wheezie. i might just make this a mini series, let me know what you think <3 part two is out now!!

links: next | mini series masterlist

wc: 1.8k

rafe hated you.

maybe not all of you, because in his eyes, along with everyone else’s.. you were hot as shit. there was no denying that. your bitchy attitude not only amused rafe more than half the time, but it turned him on too. he’d watch you from a distance as you cleared the couch for you and your friends to sit on with a single glance, everyone making way for you like you were some kind of princess. which you clearly were, he just couldn’t understand why.

why did you turn him on so much? his best bet was because while everyone bent to his will, he knew that you’d never even spare him the time of day, and if you did it was because he had to work for every single ounce of your attention. no one else on this island would ever make him do that, no one on this island wouldn’t dare challenge him, but you? he’d take your bossiness and catty remarks any day.

the real question is; why did he hate you at the same time?

for starters; you had your family. your picture perfect mommy and daddy were plastered on every single newspaper in both the island and the mainland, the two of them getting praised for their line of successful businesses and work ambition. you were the only child, which was something rafe fantasized about being when his dad was still here. it irritated him that you had all of the attention and recognition that he never had. he felt even worse about it because unlike him, you didn’t even have to do anything in order to get praise and appreciation from your parents. you just got it for simply existing.

rafe on the other hand was nothing but a disappointment to ward when he went above and beyond just to get nothing, not even a single ‘i’m proud of you, son.’ before his dad up and died. rafe was already fueled by rage, but now? now that he had an entire island looking at down on him everywhere he went with false pity? he was out for blood. getting in meaningless fights, purposely doing stupid things that he knew he’d get hurt doing just to feel something.

he grew reckless and raised hell in every establishment and party he attended, figuring there was no use in keeping the family name squeaky clean with a good reputation when he technically didn’t have any family anymore. rose took wheezie and dipped as soon as rafe got tanneyhill and his hefty inheritance, and sarah decided to leave the island altogether and live her own life in god knows where.

everyone left him.

rafe was simply just a bystander now, an observer, and you had it all. the popularity, the socialite status, the family, the friends, the list could go on. it wasn’t long before he had to find some kind of outlet; something where he could express things and share thoughts to an audience that didn’t know him.. little did he know, you had also seeked out the same thing.

your distaste for rafe came about once you heard he was going around the island calling you a ‘spoiled little brat’ and a ‘prissy bitch’ whenever your name came up in conversations. obviously, what he said was true, but who was he to speak about you? he didn’t even know you. “call me a bitch to my face next time, ‘cameron. i hate pussies.” you had went up to him in the midst of him having a conversation with topper, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the way your hips swayed when you walked away, your mini dress paired with those heels of yours had him tonguing the inside of his cheek.

“did she just bitch you out, bro?” topper looked genuinely shocked as rafe laughed. “nah, she’s flirting.” from then on, you two would shamelessly stare at each other from across the room, keeping your eyes locked on one another even while you had people at your side who were more than interested in taking you home. rafe would pass by, muttering an insult just loud enough for you to hear and you’d laugh, dismissing him as if he was nothing but a fly on the wall.

you’d be lying if you said the so called ‘princess’ treatment didn’t get old after a while. rafe was the only person who seemingly didn’t care about your feelings. and you liked it. naturally, you craved something different, something that no one out here in the real world had the guts to do— degrade you and make you feel small. like you were nothing. turning to the only thing you could in order to keep your anonymity, you made a tumblr blog, easily racking up followers by posting your deepest and darkest desires and fantasies.

not even your best friends knew this side of you. you could be as depraved as you wanted to be on the app, and even if the whole point in you making your blog was to be anonymous, you still posted your own photos on there. of course your face wouldn’t be showing in any of them, but reading the comments as they flooded in filled the void you didn’t realize was there to begin with. a particular user, however, always left comments on your posts that had your thighs rubbing together.

it wasn’t long before you decided to check out his account, deciding to follow him back once you read through some of his posts. truthfully, you were the only girl he followed on the platform, he couldn’t help but feel like a lot of other accounts were ran by robots. you actually interacted with people on your blog, you had a personality. when he got the notification that you followed him back, he wasted no time in sending you a message.

[10:01 PM] countryclub: wsp

[10:15 PM] brattydiaries: ew.

[10:16 PM] countryclub: ???

[10:16 PM] countryclub: i just want to talk to you.

[10:25 PM] brattydiaries: yeah i can see that lol

[10:26 PM] brattydiaries: ‘wsp’ is so icky though. it kinda gives me high schooler vibes

‘high schooler vibes’ rafe snorted when he read your reply, internally cringing as he read back his previous message. you had a point.

[10:28 PM] countryclub: can i start over?

[10:30 PM] brattydiaries: can you?

[10:31 PM] countryclub: may i?

you smiled when he corrected himself.

[10:33 PM] brattydiaries: ugh i guess..

[10:38 PM] countryclub: 1 attachment

[10:38 PM] countryclub: hey i cum to your pictures all the time. here’s a picture of my cock and the mess you made me make.

usually you’d immediately block when an unsolicited dick pic found its way to your dm’s, but this one was unlike any others you’ve received.

your jaw was on the floor.

this wasn’t the ordinary ‘no-effort’ kind of picture. he wasn’t obnoxiously holding his length as if he was presenting it to you, instead he had his fist wrapped around the base, his aching tip standing on its own as his cum adorned his abs. his skin was also glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, your chest blooming with pride as you realized just how much your blog riled him up. he was very well groomed, the underside of his cock slick with the aftermath of your most recent photos.

this was just different. you felt your bitchy resolve crumbling down with every second you stared at the details, the sight of the veins in his arms and hands had you pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, your brain going blank as you tried to come up with a response.

[10:50 PM] countryclub: you done being a bitch and acting like i’m not good enough to talk to you? or do i have to send you more pictures of what you do to me?

yeah. you were totally fucked.

from that point forward, you two sexted day and night, your phone basically living in your hands as you went about your everyday life. soon, all of your posts became about him, both you and rafe seemingly dancing circles around each other. while you two lived for pissing each other off and did everything to be a nuisance to one another in real life, you were actually, literally getting each other off behind the screen.

you were surprising him with photos throughout the day, his dirty talk making you fall asleep with a sticky mess between your thighs. it was only a matter of time before he started wanting to hear your voice, even going as far as asking for your number so you could call and actually talk to one another. of course, you were hesitant, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish to hear those filthy things he says in your messages in your ears instead.

so you agreed. you gave him your number and waited for him to call.. and nothing. for the first time in your life, you waited for a phone call from a man, and he never delivered. your ego was in shambles. even after you came up with excuses as to why he didn’t call, none of them made sense. the next day you woke up to no new messages, your heart clenching in your chest when you went to his profile and saw that he deleted all of his posts.

what the fuck?

deciding to stay off of the app for the time being, you hated how a few months of sexting made you think about him every chance you got.

you didn’t even know his name for crying out loud!

if your friends noticed something off about your attitude, they didn’t point it out. even rafe was more irritable, both of you getting in full on arguments if you two spent too much time together in a social setting. your comebacks would have him on the verge of dragging you out of the room by your hair, wishing so bad that he could just put you in your place. it wasn’t until you got home from another one of topper’s parties that your phone lit up with a message.

from him.

[1:00 AM] countryclub: hey

you scoffed. ‘hey’ that was all that he could say? after all of the time that passed, he could only spare you one fucking word? you were about to block him before you got another notification.

[1:07 AM] countryclub: i’m really sorry for ghosting you, alright? i just freaked out.

[1:09 AM] brattydiaries: you sent me a picture of your dick when we first messaged each other and you’re barely freaking out now? don’t you think we’re far past that point already?

[1:12 AM] countryclub: we definitely are, it’s just when you sent me your number, my heart dropped to my ass.

[1:12 AM] brattydiaries: you asked for it and i gave it to you. i’m confused rn.

[1:14 AM] countryclub: no it isn’t that

[1:15 AM] brattydiaries: then what the fuck is it?

[1:19 AM] countryclub: we have the same area code.

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floweredsoul03 · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request Jealous Boom!Sonic and reader?

The reader is really close to Shadow and lives very close to him so they frequently hang out. It can be either that reader and sonic are already in a relationship or they’re still pining for one another!

Sonic goes through the whole “What does Shadow have that I don’t” thing and it’s just fluff and crack.

Sonic boom is my comfort show so I got very happy to see that your requests are open for it!!

Blue With Jealousy

(Boom!Sonic x Doctor!Reader)

A/n: This can be seen as a part two of my other Boom!Sonic x Doctor!Reader.

You didn't mean to do it again. Accidentally make a new… friend? At least deep down, you hoped Shadow considered you a friend as you thought him yours.

In your defense, it’s not your fault—once again. When you became a doctor, you swore an oath to help people regardless of background.

Hell, you’ve even patched up Dr. Eggman at rare times. You would’ve helped him more if your friends hadn’t always sent him flying away. Even at rare times, when he wasn’t sent flying, whenever you tried to help, he’d yell at you to buzz off before going away faster than you could catch up.

On the day you first saw Sonic fighting Shadow, your heart dropped quite a bit. You knew Sonic was capable. You never doubted him once. However, it looked like Shadow was just as capable as well. He’s also able to teleport.

You were tending to your friends' injuries. Your movements were swift, still, calm, and calculated as you helped your friends individually. However, you felt anything but level-headed and collected on the inside.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel the thumps against your ribcage. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, intertwined with fighting in the background.

You never doubted yourself in the past about being a valuable member of Seaside Island’s heroes, but for the first time, you felt useless despite your knowledge of medicine. You hated having to acknowledge the fact that you have your limits. You only know how to heal, not fight. Although it never bothered you in the past, knowing if you acted recklessly and tried something, you’d only end up injuring yourself and possibly someone else. Then you’d all be in trouble, being the person all your friends depended on to treat them.

But this time was different.

When you finished helping Tails, you turned to look at Sonic, who finally got the upper hand, and things seemed to be turning around in his favor. Your muscles relaxed, and you felt like you could breathe properly. The atmosphere changed around you and your friends, and you all felt relieved.

When Sonic landed the last hit, it made you recoil at the impact Shadow took. Your reaction surprised you, considering you have never felt bad whenever Eggman got his ass handed to him. And yet, for some reason, someone who's caused more havoc at just the first time you’ve seen him than the multiple times you’ve come across Eggman was able to make you react that way.

With a promise from Shadow to get back at Sonic, he disappeared.

You could hear the little shouts of victory from your friends, but your attention was on the area where Shadow once stood, and your mind went back to his injuries.

Not even a second later, with a small sigh, you started walking.

You’re a healer at heart, after all, through and through. You didn’t need to second guess yourself that you wanted to look for Shadow to tend to his wounds, although he was attacking your group just seconds before.

Not a few steps later, Sonic ran to your side with a tilt of his head in your line of sight, “Where you goin’? Meh Burgers is that way. What? That tired you can’t even walk in the same direction as everyone else?” He teased, pointing towards your friends making their way to eat and celebrate.

“It’s fine, I’m not hungry. Besides, I need to check on some civilians and ask if anyone is hurt, just in case. See you next time.” You calmly said, trying to make sure you weren’t coming off as suspicious.

It was a believable lie. You’ve done so multiple times in the past. If an attack happened, you asked if anyone was harmed, and if not, you led them to safety before focusing on your friends if you didn’t have time to check on any citizens beforehand, definitely afterward.

You would feel guilty about lying about checking on other folks to seek out Shadow if you didn’t already know beforehand that everyone else was okay.

You continued walking, ensuring you didn’t seem nervous or look back.

Sonic was left with his shoulders slumped at the disappointment of this perfect excuse for you to be around him, not work. Watching your figure go away, he couldn’t help but feel that something was off.

Unable to figure it out, he returned to catch up with the rest.

Sonic caught up beside Amy when she asked, “Where’s (y/n)?” She looked behind, trying to spot you.

“Looking for the people who ran away to see if they’re hurt,” he said as if it were normal. However, some underlying turmoil surprised him, and he didn’t understand why.

That was until Amy pointed out, “Without looking at your injuries before leaving?” Eyes wide.

That’s when the realization hit him hard. You’re always on him about staying safe or ensuring he knows to relax and not overdo it. And this time, you didn’t even scan his body at all.

He looked back to where you were no longer there, subconsciously, one hand rubbing his arm where a bruise formed.

You had started running once you were out of sight to find Shadow.

You searched until you came across a cave. Out of breath, you slowed down and continued walking. Seeing the glowing pinkish cryptic drawings and writing carved all over the walls of this dark—almost depressing—cave, you felt pretty sure you’d find the emo red and black hedgehog.

“You have some nerve coming out here on your own.”

Speak of the devil.

You looked around until Shadow teleported right behind you. A yelp left your lips as you jumped back in fright.

It's too late to consider backing out now.

You breathed to calm down, “I saw you take quite a couple of hits back there.”

You immediately realized how bad that sounded by the way his expression worsened. “I’m a doctor! I’d like to take a look to see if you need medical aid.” You quickly explained.

A ‘tch’ left Shadow’s mouth, “Do I look weak to you? The last time I saw you, you were running around like a headless chicken while your friends,” he emphasized, making the word sound like an insult somehow, “were the ones fighting.”

His words reminded you of the new painful insecurities that formed hours ago, and you started to feel angry. However, without allowing anger to cloud your consciousness, you decided it would be best not to feed into the tiny spark that could escalate and combust into roaring flames. So you continued, “I know you aren’t weak. Regardless, I took an oath when I became a doctor to help people without discrimination. That includes you, Shadow. Even though you terrorized many people and attacked my friends, I still intend to stay loyal to my oath.”

The expression and gaze Shadow gave you probably would’ve made you tremble, especially knowing what he’s capable of. To top it all off, you were in his territory, and your friends did not know where you were. And yet, it felt like something just burst into life inside you. Your face held a determined look, and your stance was confident -unlike how you had been the last time he saw you. Your eyes held a fire that didn’t snuff out by his glaring eyes, and your gaze never looked away from him.

He broke the silence with a groan, “Very well then. Judging by your look, you’re not going to leave anytime soon. You might as well get it over with so you can leave. Any funny business, however,” Shadow raised his fist, clarifying what would happen as he went to sit down.

You would be lying if you said you thought this would work out and that he would accept your help, even if it were begrudgingly.

You tried to conceal your happiness over your victory by trying to calm down; however, you’re sure Shadow saw this anyway. You walk before him and place your bag beside you to start working.

“You’re doing this out of obligation?” Shadow asked.

Keeping focus on finding how many injuries he may have, you responded, “I’m no fighter.”

“Obviously.” Shadow interrupted.

Annoyance aside, you continued, “I’ve always been drawn towards learning how to heal people. I would’ve been doing this regardless if I went to school for medicine or went a different route and became an herbal doctor instead.” A genuine and gentle smile crept up on your face. You were so focused on the work that you missed how Shadow looked at you.

Ever since that day, you would seek him out, which is surprising because you’re more introverted. When you first came back to visit Shadow, he asked why you bothered coming back; you went with the excuse that since he’s far away from where most people live and you have no idea if he is doing well since Shadow keeps to himself, you planned to visit him now and then. Which isn’t a lie; you do mean it. You just left out that you enjoyed his company more and more as time passed.

If only you hadn’t gotten so lost in the moment, you’d realize Sonic and your friends were getting suspicious of how much you found excuses for not being able to join them.

Eventually, Sonic had enough one day and ran to your home to confront you.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.” He barged in without even knocking in advance. Before he can continue, he sees not just you looking at him wide-eyed, but Shadow is also there.

“(Y/n)!” Sonic is about to attack when your arms are wide in front of Shadow. Are you protecting him?

“Hold up, I’m not in danger!”

Sonic stops right in front of you, stumped. A familiar voice is heard before anyone can say anything, “Hey (Y/n), you home?” Knuckles takes a peek into your home. “Am I interrupting something?” He looks between the three of you. You’re confused at the look Knuckles is giving until it finally clicks. Your back is almost all against Shadow, while Sonic is a little too up close to you. Face warming up, you panicked and pushed both of them away from you, “No! Nothing was happening!”

Knuckles gave you a face that he didn’t believe you, “I’m not the brightest tool in the drawer, but that’s not really convincing, you know.”

Before you can defend yourself, you hear the rest of your friends making their way to your house.

You want to scream.

The tension in the air feels thick after explaining everything to everyone.

Tails is the first to speak up, “There’s no way you’re actually going to let him live here, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Sonic said as if he was not letting there be any other option.

“What if this is some kind of plan to get close to our healer, and when (Y/n) least expects it, bam!” Sticks waved her arms around dramatically, “They're gone!”

“If Shadow wanted to harm and get rid of me, he would’ve already done so when he had the chance multiple times.”

Although what you said was reasonable, it didn’t ease their minds. Knuckles was skeptical. Sticks and Sonic were glaring at Shadow -unbeknownst to you, Shadow was sending a smirk toward Sonic, which made him more sour than before. And Amy and Tails were worried.

Desperate, you turn to Amy, “Shadow lives alone away from the village with no one else around. This can be a good thing; he won't be completely isolated but not overcrowded.” Your house was a perfect distance away from the village. You had complete privacy but weren’t too far from not being able to show up on time in case of an emergency.

Thankfully, Amy seemed to have taken the bait: “This can be a good thing, you guys. Shadow has made a new friend who can be by his side.”

Amy liked to believe that there could be good in everybody. So it seemed worth the shot if being around you helps Shadow be less lonely and not attack others anymore -or at least not trying to ‘destroy’ anyone.

Amy’s words seem to have worked more than your own. Most of your friends looked less tense—all except one blue hedgehog.

“No way. How can we just leave (Y/n) alone with Shadow believing he won’t try something?”

Amy quickly replied, “We know they’ve both been hanging out for some time, and (Y/n) was always left unharmed. " She then had a small smirk. “And Shadow didn’t deny (Y/n) being his friend.”

Everyone shifted their gaze to Shadow when Amy pointed it out. They caught a glimpse of shock on his face for a second before he looked away with a frown, groaning.

Sonic, stressed that he wasn’t winning this argument, began tapping his foot on the floor. He had one hand on his hip and the other pressed against his forehead.

He had a feeling he was not going to like any of this.

And sure enough, Sonic was right.

He couldn’t decide whether it was better to find out that you and Shadow had become friends.

Because now that Sonic and the rest of your friends knew, the two of you weren’t hiding anymore.

He hears how you laugh sometimes around Shadow the same way your laugh makes Sonic feel enamored, especially if the reason for it is because of him. The gentle smile you send to the people in your heart now includes Shadow. Whenever an event or get-together comes up, you go out of your way to ask him to join in.

Lost in his thoughts, Sonic hadn’t realized he was quite literally speed-walking in a circle as he was muttering under his breath until Amy interrupted.

“Sonic, you’re going to end up digging yourself into the ground at this rate.”

Sonic stopped and looked down. Sure enough, he accidentally dug a deep enough circle to reach his ankles.

“Oops.”

“It’s best not to assume anything about anyone but Sonic. Are you jealous that Shadow is hanging around (Y/n)?”

“No, why would I be jealous of Shadow?” He answered too quickly. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Style?” Knuckles pondered.

“He can assert dominance in a fight?” Sticks adds.

“Teleportation?” Tails joins.

Little by little, Sonic’s frown worsens.

“I’ve heard that some people are into the category of men Shadow might fall in. Someone rugged, bitter, and cold, but deep down, they’re caring and sweet to the people they consider dear to them. And once you find out their backstory made them that way, it all makes sense.” Amy exclaimed, her hands clasped together as she looked lost in her world, making it seem like the most romantic thing ever. She snapped out of it before thinking out loud, “I wonder if that's (Y/n)’s type.”

Sonic had enough, “I’m rugged. I’m so rugged!”

Before anyone could say anything, Sonic ran off.

Proud of herself, Amy spoke, “I hope that finally gets him to do something about his feelings. (Y/n) too.”

I'm not jealous. There's no reason for me to be jealous.

How the hell did Sonic end up in this situation? Oh yeah.

He decided to challenge Shadow.

How did it end up being a swimming competition? Don’t ask.

The regret hit Sonic at the same capacity as his speed. He hears the sound of someone jumping into the water before he passes out. It’s only complete darkness for a moment before he’s coughing up salty water, opening his eyes expecting to see his savior, you. So imagine his shock when he sees Shadow; Sonic starts to panic. “What just happened? Please tell me you didn’t kiss me.”

A growl of annoyance leaves Shadow’s lips as his fist raises to punch Sonic when you gently grab his wrist to stop him. “Let’s not punch the patient right back into unconsciousness, okay?”

Shadow rolls his eyes but still complies as he starts to walk away. “I think there’s something that you need to confess to him, (Y/n) before that coward does something else foolish that gets him killed for sure.”

Those words send nerves running through your body, but hopefully, what you have planned will help you express your feelings.

“Tell me what?” Sonic turns to look at you, and he’s surprised by what he sees. There’s a look of vulnerability on your face as you look down at something you’re holding in your hands; he looks down at your hands to see them slightly shaking; before he asks if you’re okay, you open them up and reveal it to him. It is a simple, pretty bracelet with seven tiny pink seashells. “I probably should have given this to you before, but I wanted the gift to be a surprise with the two of us alone.” You give the bracelet to Sonic, “I don’t believe in superstition, but I heard that it’s supposed to protect you in the water and bring you good luck.”

“You made this for me?” Sonic says—more of a statement than a question.

He connects the dots: Shadow saying you need to confess, the look on your face, your shaking hands, the gift, and your intentions behind the gift, both spoken and unspoken. At that moment, he knows that his feelings for you are reciprocating.

A/n: Did I make more references in here like last time? Yes I did. Did I make a reference from one of the Avengers movies? Yes I did. Did I make reference to Sonic X? Yes I did. Can anyone stop me? No. 😈😂

#fanfic #fanfiction #boom!sonic #sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #reader #reader insert #y/n #boom!sonic x reader #x y/n #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #x reader

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ikeuki · 6 months ago

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and the crowd is . . . confused ? / 제이크

( pairing ) sim jaeyun x fem!reader ✶ mutual pining? ; fluff/crack, miscommunication + cursing — ( wordcount ) 1.8k

ᯓ★ ikeuki’s note. never jump to conclusions ladies & gents! also cliffhanger lol sorry, will prob make a pt.2!

synopsis. after three years of crushing on popular classmate, sim jaeyun, you finally muster up your courage and decide to confess. but you overhear him fawning over someone who clearly isn’t you, are you too late?

“just do it! i swear i will do it myself if you don’t,” your best friend chaewon complicated. she was spread out on the cafeteria lunch table, clearly overreacting in your opinion.

“i’ll do it after break, trust trust,” you assured and kept your eyes on the mushy carrots on your plate.

jungwon groaned at your blatant lie, “oh come on! you said that last time!” he was right. you’ve been delaying your confession for about three breaks straight, coming up with a stupid excuse each time.

first it was that the year was an all-time stressful one where your crush was apparently “too focused on his studies.” but your friends knew better. especially when they saw jake sim playing video games during bio everyday.

next was that you claimed he was sick and the confession would just “add stress to his aching pain.” chaewon and jungwon genuinely could not take that one seriously, both overhearing from his friends sunghoon and heeseung that he was just on an extended family trip to jeju island.

most recently, you blamed it on no time! you just never seem to bump into him at school! LIE.

jungwon stared at you dumbfounded while chaewon turned your head for you to show jake laughing with his friends across the cafeteria.

he looked perfect. the rays of sunlight lightly illuminated his figure as he had that oh-so charming smile. his soft dark hair and bangs slightly hiding his eyes, but not enough for you to miss his sparkling gaze. the loud chatter of the cafeteria was suddenly quieter when all you could hear was his sweet voice laughing.

“here she goes again,” chaewon sighed, watching her best friend go head over heels this damn boy for the eighth time today.

the school bell snapped you out of your trance, watching as he and his friends got up to leave. before doing so, he grabbed his tray as well his friends, gathering the little wrappers and napkins they all used.

“dude—you don’t have to do that,” his friend commented, nodding towards the exit.

“yeah, but it doesn’t hurt,” jake smiled and quickly finished cleaning up. on his way out, he threw all the trash into the garbage can and piled the trays by the counter, before flashing a grin to the cafeteria ladies who all adored him.

that’s what you liked about jake the most.

of course, he was the most handsome boy you’ve ever laid your eyes on. but he was the sweetest too. you would know—because that’s how you first met him.

back in freshman year, you were completely lost on the first day, all your middle school friends going to a different high school than you. hugging your textbooks close to your chest and trying to keep a low profile, you wandered the entire school in search of your first class.

where the hell was class d-4?

taking a moment to look at the room number plates, you stood in the middle of the hall. suddenly, four boys or so rushed by you and one of them bumped into your shoulder causing you to lose control of your books.

they fell onto the floor as you rushed to pick them up. you didn’t even give the boys another glance as you assumed they were already gone. ‘so this is how high school is’ you internally grumbled and rolled your eyes.

but when you reached to grab your last textbook, another hand already picked it up. the figure was rising to his feet, you subconsciously followed.

“i’m so sorry about my friends, they’re playing this stupid game and—” the boy started, but you almost tuned his words out.

you looked at the boy standing in front of you. his shaggy dark hair and awkward stance while holding one of your textbooks. he nervously held the back of his neck and continued explaining his friends’ antics and apologized.

surprised was an understatement.

“—anyways i apologize on the behalf of my friends and all this,” he softly laughed. you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his rambling, lightening the mood.

“ok good you’re smiling!” he noted and let out a sigh of relief. the last thing he wanted to do was make any enemies on the first day of a new high school.

“yeah and i forgive you, don’t worry. it wasn’t even your fault, i was standing in the middle of the hall,” you replied and looked at where both of you were now standing. it was true, your body was quite literally in the middle where people were trying to pass by.

“i was just trying to find my class,” you continued and looked back at the small post-it on one of your textbooks that read the room number you were in desperate search for.

“oh d-4?” he asked calmy and titled his head to the side like a puppy.

a faint blush painted your face as the boy widened his eyes awaiting your response. he really did look like one of those golden retrievers you would stay up all night looking at on tiktok.

“yeah…algebra?” you hesitated. “yeah yeah ms. park’s! i have her first period too, c’mon that’s where my friends were going,” he answered enthusiastically and lead the way down the hall.

he walked with your textbook still in his hands and began small talk, introducing himself and asking for your name. the two of you got a little close that year, thanks to the class.

jake would always say hi in the halls and the courtyard, whether he was alone or with his friends. as he got popular when joining the varsity soccer team in sophomore year and gaining more friends, he remained loyal to you in his acknowledgements towards you.

you were surprised when on the first day of senior year, he ran up next to you.

“hey y/n! how was your break?” he exclaimed with such interest. he still had his shaggy dark hair and that puppy-like habit of tilting his head when asking a question.

so if you two were that friendly, why was it so hard to confess your deep-rooted feelings for him?

wait, it wasn’t. cause what’s the worst that could happen…?

“y’know what, i’m going to do it,” you blurted. jungwon and chaewon stopped in the hall, running back to you and holding onto your shoulders.

“i should’ve recorded that—fuck!” chaewon shouted, catching the attention of passing by students.

“wait are you serious? like actually? actually!” jungwon repeated and started jumping up and down as if he just asked to be the best man at your wedding or something.

“yes. dead serious. today, after fifth period and before he walks to the field for soccer practice,” you nodded your head and looked straight, determined look in your eyes and all.

“should i be alarmed that you know his everyday whereabouts?” jungwon muttered.

“who cares! she’s finally doing it!” chaewon celebrated and jungwon whispered a “ok true,” getting giddy with her.

“wow i did not think you guys would be this hyped,” you raised your eyebrow at your best friends who were probably happier than you were.

“now this means we wouldn’t have to hear your delusional thoughts anymore!” jungwon exclaimed and raised both his arms in the air. chaewon joined in, “no more stalking and obsessing!”

“oh fuck you guys!”

the entire fifth period, you thought about how you would confess to your crush: jaeyun sim.

writing a love letter? too complicated.

asking him out on the spot? too risky.

texting him? too scaredy-cat.

before you knew it, the bell was ringing and passing period began which meant you had ten minutes to locate and find jake first and quickly tell him your feelings. luckily, there were a couple boys on the soccer team in your class so you just needed to discreetly follow them to the field.

and that’s exactly what you did. until a familiar figure was only a few steps away from you. you hid behind the bleachers as him and his friends were on the field getting ready.

you took a couple breaths and tried to collect your thoughts. what would you even say? ‘hey jake! could i talk with you for a second? so basically ive been in love with you since freshmen year wh—’

“isn’t she so cute!”

the voice you loved so much felt like a betrayal now. you peeped your head above the bleachers to see jake showing his friends something on his phone.

“much cuter than mine, bro i swear she’s the devil,” one of his friends mentioned and leaned in to see something on jake’s phone.

what were they talking about? more importantly, who?

“not mine—she’s an angel, i love her! her birthday’s next week,” jake smiled fondly, as if he were in love.

your heart shattered at the very sight. not that he was happy, but that he was…talking with heart eyes about a girl. one that was obviously not you, your birthday being months away.

“what’s her name?” someone asked, you narrowed your eyes to try to catch a glimpse of the photo but he casually put his phone back in his pocket before you could.

“layla!” he answered gleefully and laid down on the grass, thinking about his favorite girl.

you bit your lip, turning around and walking away from the field. your chest felt heavy and there was apparent discomfort spreading throughout your body. how could you be so blind?

of course, jaeyun sim would have a girlfriend! after all he was cute, sweet, athletic, smart, and popular! he had you fawning over him for the past three years, but obviously you weren’t the only one. did that mean he picked up other girls’ textbooks and walked them to class? fuck.

defeated, you decided to ditch your sixth period and walked to the parking lot instead. you pulled out your phone, texting the group chat.

TWO WONS = ONE RIGHT !! 😈😈😈

you soooo #missionfailed og won WHAT SPILL WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED chae aka the better won HUH NOOOOOOOO you soooo he apparently has a girl! omg kill myself!! hahahaha…hahaha chae aka the better won

og won ummm i didn’t consent to that

chae aka the better won 🫥 ANYWAYS im so sorry y/n HE FUMBLEDDDD og won jake DOESNT have a girl tho???? you yea he does i heard him and his friends talking abt HOW CUTE his girlfriend was. chae aka the better won AW HELL NAH

og won bros using her own memes now no no sunghoon told me during third that they’ve all been trying to set him up with jay’s cousin but he liked someone else or smth you THIRD???!!!! AND YOU DIDNT THINK TO TELL ME THIS DURING LUNCH?!?!? chae aka the better won jungwon. smhsmh og won SORRY SORRY but y/n. he’s single. you ok but then who tf is layla???? og won … who’s gonna tell her chae aka the better won y/n im going to hold your hand when i say this…that’s his dog. og won pls tell me u didn’t think layla was the “girlfriend” you oh fuck chae aka the better won

og won OKAY WHY AM I STILL GETTING SLANDERED

wait. did you just fuck yourself over?

…pt.2?

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shrimpybbq · 7 months ago

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a timeline of rafe cameron and obx actress!reader’s character’s relationship (+ their real life one) pt 1

anon request: do you think you could do little headcannons or like a timeline of each season of their relationship or her character’s involvement in the show? i’m OBSESSED💜

season 1: the set up

introducing, the pogues. all the usual suspects are shown, but the second episode of the season introduces iris. a pogue somewhat mixed up in both sides. she was three years older than the rest of the group, but knew them well as she was jj’s neighbour, and luke always made her babysit jj as a kid, even though she had no clue what to do

iris went to kildare academy on a scholarship and she was always treated awfully for it. she took on a job at a men’s boutique in town too, needing to help pay the bills at home. she also worked as a waitress at the wreck during summer

she’s beautiful though, and as much as she hates the attention, it helps her get extra tips at work

rafe was in her year at the academy, but often got suspended (before ward paid the school off), and the pair never really talked - except for one time

rafe was having a coke-induced panic attack outside the school, crouching down and clawing at his throat as he was convinced no air could get through. he barely even comprehends when iris crouches next to him, soothingly telling him to breathe, allowing him to follow her in-out breathing pattern. he doesn’t realise it’s her until the attack begins to subside and he’s so embarrassed, but mumbles a thank you anyway. he rudely demands she not tell anyone and to his surprise she nods and says “Why would I tell anyone, Rafe? Everyone struggles sometimes and they shouldn’t have that held against them,”

that’s the only proper conversation they have

however, rafe did think she was super hot, but made himself a promise that he’d never stoop so low as to fuck a pogue, and so refuses to give her any more of his attention

after high school, everyone expects iris to go off to college on a fancy scholarship, but her mom gets sick and she stays on the island, doing her best to take care of her. she’s working almost full time at the men’s boutique, which is where she starts to see rafe more and more

the pair strike up an odd relationship - they’re amicable but never too friendly. she just views rafe as an old (overly classist and rude) classmate, but to rafe’s chagrin, he begins to develop a small crush on her

her role in the first season is almost adjacent to the rest of the pogues, with her not doing much as part of the main plot until midsummers. rose hired her to attend the party and supervise wheezie the whole night, so that’s what she’s doing until jj runs into her. as she watches him being chased, she follows the boys down the hall only to see the kooks beating on jj. rafe is surprised that he finds himself ashamed of her seeing him acting like this,

“Come on Iris, get out of here! You don’t need to watch this shit!”

“Let him go, Rafe! What the hell!”

rafe also finds himself gawking at the sight of iris all dressed up, unable to tear his eyes away from her

after that debacle, she’s joining the pogues at the lighthouse once wheezie goes to bed, sighing when she hears of their antics. they don’t ask her to help them, but she tells them to let her know if they have any clues they need solving - she misses using her brain

there’s a scene between iris and rafe once he’s been kicked out, with iris going to barry’s trailer to buy painkillers for her mom. he’s all pathetic and desperate but he doesn’t want her to see him that way, lying that he left home. she doesn’t believe him, but the pair share somewhat of a moment before she goes,

“Stay safe, Rafe… he shouldn’t treat you like that,”

“What?”

“Your dad. He’s not right about you, I can tell. Don’t let him get to you,”

she’s 100% with the pogues when they go to pawn off the gold, jj claiming that she is a good negotiator and they need her skills. barry curses to himself when he notices she’s with them as he holds the group hostage, knowing she’s too good to be stuck in this situation

barry and iris have struck up some sort of weird friendship over the years. they've definitely smoked weed together more than once

when barry rants to rafe about the hold up, he doesn’t notice the way rafe tenses up at the idea of her (and his sister) being hurt

she’s not there on the tarmac when rafe shoots peterkin, but he does come across her at the boutique when he’s hunting john b down. iris hadn’t been told anything by the pogues yet though, so she talks with him as normal, stating that the younger boy couldn’t have murdered the sheriff. she's known him for years

rafe tells her to stay safe and watch out, hoping somehow that she won’t get caught up in all of the drama. he even demands her phone, putting his number in it for her to call if she needs help

“Just, y’know, reach out if something doesn’t feel right, ‘k?

she does use her car to drive the pogues to the warehouse upon request from jj to help get the phantom ready, only for the group to be intercepted by rafe and barry. it’s there she learns that it was in fact rafe who shot the sheriff, and he doesn’t take her reaction well

she’s shocked and horrified, staring at rafe frightened, trying to stay far away from him. he doesn’t notice the concern that filters through her expression, her knowing that there’s more to this story. she knew rafe - not well, but enough to know he wasn’t eagerly and ruthlessly murdering people

she’s still frozen and staying far away until he’s beating her friends once more. only then does she try and pull him off of them, but she doesn’t stop pope from hitting him

rafe is losing his grip as he realises iris has left with the pogues, and probably hates him now. he finally had found someone he thought understood him, and now she had been poisoned against him

iris ends up at the tent with the younger pogues, watching hopelessly as sarah and john b drive into the storm. it's her and jj who console each other as kiara and pope cry with their families. jj has always felt like her little brother, and so iris and jj cry against each other

season one: behind the scenes

season 1 has drew and obx actress!reader living in the same building, next door to each other, for the duration of filming. it’s covid times and so the cast spend a lot of time together, resulting in strong bonds

from the start, it’s clear that she and drew just mesh well together. obx actress!reader and madelyn cline are immediately best friends, and the three of them hang out together everyday. those ig lives are literally just the three of them chit-chatting and talking about everything and nothing, but it’s where fans first start to think drew and obx actress!reader would be cute together

drew constantly features in her instagram stories, and once they can all go out again, all the fan pics posted have the two sat next to each or walking side by side (literally always to be point where it can’t be a coincidence anymore)

the fans don’t appreciate that drew hasn’t reached his peak hotness yet (which is criminal bc he was so hot in season 1), and so a lot of fans ship obx actress!reader with rudy for a while

drew doesn’t want to acknowledge he’s somewhat jealous, but it’s simmering under the surface

the pair don’t share any actual romantic scenes in season 1, but it doesn’t stop them from sharing a tipsy kiss one night at a bar for jd’s birthday. they both really liked it, but pretend that it didn’t happen so as not to ruin their friendship

there’s an absolutely iconic pic of drew and obx actress!reader dressed up for midsummers, posed together like a couple going to prom, and fans still share it at the time of season 4

ya know that short concept film that rudy, drew and elaine did? miss girl obx actress!reader had to do her best not to drool over drew as he filmed that. she helped out with some of the scenes and was barely holding it together at the sight of his biceps

obx actress!reader is 100% the driving force behind the greasy bangs. drew mentions he needs a haircut and so she does it in her apartment bathroom for him, demanding he let her style it too. she had a vision and once she saw it come to life, she sent a pic to the directors and suggested it as rafe’s new look for the second season

drew took obx actress!reader back to his home for the holidays too, not wanting her to be stuck in charleston alone. she spends the time with him and his sisters, hanging out and by the time the pair leave back to resume filming, she has the whole family on instagram and they're all planning to catch up again. his parents love her and invite her to come back with him next time too

the pair go to the gym together too, helping and spotting for each other. obx actress!reader deeply enjoys watching drew get more buff

they do a few interviews together with the rest of the cast after season 1 airs and even there, the cameras pick up on the flirty vibes. soon, their chemistry has fans spiralling and everyone is so eager to see them in season 2

ps. this is the style of photo they post for the bts midsummers photo

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lvmimis · 3 months ago

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cw: set after dressrosa. reader has a vaguely described devil fruit power. selfship-coded.

“I’m not gonna lie, this freaks me out a bit,” you whisper to Robin and she giggles as you watch Bartolomeo, the only person you think might love Luffy more than you do, continues to show off the rest of his boat to the crew.

As if the eerily well done bow of the ship bearing the likeness of your boyfriend wasn’t disturbing enough, the fact that you are now looking at your own framed bounty, nicely rounded at 50 million Berries, is even more disconcerting. Prior to this, you’d escaped being noted by the Marines, and now you were staring at a picture of yourself - a far away shot of you dragging along the little girl you’d helped escape at Dressrosa. You’d think they’d aim to use a picture of you looking less sympathetic, but slap enough money on the bottom of the poster, and you’re as good as dead.

All of your hopeful attempts to not become noteworthy down the drain. While you watch Usopp panic, you wonder if you should start to panic too, but as you watch Luffy practically beam at the idea of his bounty going up, you try to realign your mindset to match his.

Your mentor at home back at your island is probably shaking his head, but at least you’re still alive and have helped do some good.

—

Robin is still asleep when you wake up in the middle of the night, even if you remember her head in a book as you dozed off next to her in a small portion of the ship carved out for the female passengers. As you come to, you feel the heaviness of a full bladder, and frown remembering that you’re not sure where the bathrooms are on this ship full of men. Remembering that it’s unlikely you’ll end up in an unsavory situation on this ship also carrying your treasured and extremely protective friends, you shift carefully with hopes not to wake up Robin and try to find your way through the vessel at night.

Drawn to each other intuitively like moths to a flame, it’s not long until you practically bump into Luffy as you turn the corner. He’s surprised, but quickly wraps you in a hug before you hiss at him to let you go, keeping your voice low.

“What the hell are you doing up?”

His stomach growls in response and you shake your head before he can even speak.

“Hungry…” he moans.

You twist your mouth to the side, but you can sympathize with the call of nature, whichever one it may be. You squeeze his hand, a motion that’s become all too natural these days.

“Let me find a bathroom first and then we can try to figure out where the fridge is. I’ll make you something.” You offer, despite knowing he’d eat practically anything, even raw.

…

One pee break later, you’re seated in the ship’s kitchen, trying your best to coax Luffy into waiting for you to make him a quadruple decker sandwich with the leftovers from the feast earlier today, rather than leave him to his own devices and risk tearing up the Barto Club’s reserves for the next three months. Luffy is being surprisingly patient, but you’ve realized by now he tries a little harder to be considerate when it comes to you and as you slide the sandwich across the table and settle down with a glass of water, he looks at you quizzically.

“Not hungry?”

He’s already eaten half the sandwich in one bite.

“Nope. It’s 2am, Luffy."

“So?”

You should expect this answer from him.

“Is it good?” You ask. Luffy nods, then swallows the remainder in another record bite.

Before you can say anything else, he lets out a loud burp and pats his stomach.

“That definitely hit the spot! Sucks you didn’t have much of an appetite though.”

He frowns, and you consider reminding him that it’s 2 fucking am, but there’s no use. Instead, you smile, appreciating his good humor, and decide to take this rare opportunity alone together since you first set foot on Dressrosa to speak to him seriously.

“Thank you Luffy.”

He looks at you for a moment - really looks - as though he’s trying to parse out the meaning behind your simple words of gratitude, then smiles.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, casually. Dressrosa, despite being relatively recent, is already in the past in his mind, as he focuses on the future still on the horizon for him, but he can tell quickly that you’re still processing, as you rise. He can see the longing in your eyes, anxious attachment tugging your body towards him.

Perhaps you didn’t get up because you needed to pee, but because you needed to see him.

Luffy’s arms envelop you naturally as you slip into his lap. It’s been a while since he’s held you like this, and there’s a cathartic sigh that arises from you that seems to be unearthed from the very pit of your stomach. Your forehead presses against his chest, and you hug his waist tight as you straddle him. A few moments pass as your heart begins to thump in your chest, revved up by every feeling you’ve kept suppressed up to now.

“I was so scared,” you finally admit.

Luffy’s chin rests on your shoulder, and he kisses the side of your face gently, before humming in assent. Luffy doesn’t feel fear like you, but he does understand you deeply; he notes the slight twist of his shirt in your clenched fingertips, the slight tremble in your body. You’re not crying yet, and you probably won’t actually let a tear ruin his clothes, but all the emotion you’ve held in leaks through the very pores of your body into his.

“I thought we would all die. I knew we wouldn’t, I believed in you, but what if-”

And then you’re back there again -

A man with a broken leg, sitting in despair. Another man, trapped by rubble; three people help you uncover with the help of the hospital staff. A child who is too tired to run.

All bodies that rattle in your head, contained in capsules, as you attempt to carry them to safety.

King Riku’s speech rings overhead.

You just have to survive for a few more minutes.

Even though your head is starting to wear heavy with the bodies of people who need just a little bit of time, you’re surrounded by others who stomp the streets, their hearts yearning for freedom, stalling with you for just a little bit of time, and you look towards the sky where Luffy does just that.

Fight with every bit of life in him to give you all just a bit more precious time.

Just as the others have trusted you, you trust him with your life and theirs.

Luffy’s hand rubs carefully along the length of your back.

“I’m here safe, and so are you,” he whispers.

“I’m thankful, of course… but I’m scared. What if next time…” your voice trails off. Luffy doesn’t need a coward as a crewmate, nor does he need a partner that only knows how to make a sandwich and shake like a leaf.

“I’m sorry, I’ll shut up now. I wasn’t the one up there fighting Doflamingo.”

Luffy says nothing else, and there’s a small comfort in that for a moment, that he neither pacifies your emotions nor berates them. Instead, he continues to rub your back carefully as he thinks.

What do you tell someone you love who’s crumbling under pressure?

“It’s just that sometimes I feel like I’m not cut out for all this.”

Luffy freezes for a moment; you feel his body hardening like stone, the held breath in his chest likening his form to a marble statue. Almost immediately, you find yourself apologetic, but there is nothing for you to apologize for.

Pulling back so that you can look at his face again, you find that he looks crestfallen.

“Luffy, I-”

“I’ll get stronger,” he says, quickly. “I’ll be able to protect you and I won’t lose any fights, ___. Just don’t-”

He doesn’t say the word ‘leave.’ He knows you have the right to leave at any time, he promised you it when the idea of joining first floated between you two. So rather than influence you, he waits to see a flicker of regret or hesitation in your eyes, if you have truly been thinking of deserting him - he knows that it’s within your right to, after all, your dreams can still be achieved without him in some way, you are tagging along out of love more than mutual benefit.

And you have no doubt that he’ll become King of the pirates some day. The question is if you’ll be able to see him through.

You take his hand and squeeze it tightly. “You’re strong enough already,” you offer him this meager reassurance.

“Not if you’re still this worried,” he’s quick to reply. You sink into his hold again, pressing your head against his chest.

“I’ll worry about you forever, even if you become some sort of invulnerable god.”

“You’re not truly free if you don’t feel safe. I want you to feel safe with me, all the time. I don’t want you to worry.”

His earnestness is impossible sometimes, but you can feel your body warm with his fondness and determination.

Your hands settle along the sides of his handsome face. One of the strongest men in the world and one of the sweetest. Adored so much that this borrowed safe passage is filled with his fans.

And he loves you somehow, and terribly so.

You can try a little harder for him, can’t you?

“I trust you, Luffy.”

His hands carefully rest over yours. He nods and there’s a solemnity to the motion.

However, even if now a bounty rests on your head and the impending risk of death draws nearer and nearer, you trust him and you realize there’s no real reason to be afraid.

#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #daydreams: op #mimi's notes #lumimi

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astraljedi · 4 months ago

Text

With you, I serve

With you, I fall down - Joaquin Torres

This wasn't requested and I haven't written in a while for Tumblr, but I suddenly had the itch to write this after watching Captain America yesterday. I've loved this man since forever and its a shame that I started so late to write for him! Warnings: Contains spoilers from Captain America: Brave New World, angst, mention of war & combat trauma, severe injuries (burns, surgery)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Female OC

Word Count: 2,931

Song: epiphany by Taylor Swift

A/N: For every Joaquin fic I write, I’ll be using my OC. It makes writing easier for me when I can create a character with a backstory. I don't include any detailed descriptions of the OC, other than that she's female.

You can find Part 2 here

Unknown Location, Military Base – 08:45

“I want to make this clear: everyone in this room is considered the top of your class as pilots. Your classmates are not your enemy—ego is your enemy,” I begin, scanning the faces of the pilots seated before me. “We are all here for one reason: to protect those who need protecting. We might butt heads during flight practice, but get this through your skulls. We defend the helpless, and we all make it back alive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the class chants, posture rigidly straight. I stand at the front of the room, just beside the podium I refuse to use. With a nod, I dismiss them to retrieve their flight gear and prepare their planes for their first flight evaluation.

As I gather my belongings to do the same, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I glance at the screen—unknown caller ID.

“Captain, a word.”

I turn to see Colonel Matthews stepping into the classroom. I’ve been under his wing since I started my career and he was still a lieutenant. I enlisted after my mother passed during deployment, and he gave me the support and time to grieve. But he also made sure I knew I was more than my mother’s legendary career. I built my own, becoming a pilot and now a flight instructor.

“Colonel, of course.” I set my phone atop my files and face him.

“What do you think of the class? I need your honest opinion.” His brows are nearly stuck together, and he shifts on his feet, the stress written all over his face.

“Well, on paper, they look good, but I haven’t started their evaluations yet,” I admit. This assignment was suddenly dropped on me, so I only had a few hours to go over their files last night. I barely slept, and during my morning FaceTime with my boyfriend, he didn’t hesitate to scold me for it. As if he has any room to talk when he can knock out the second his head hits the pillow, while I need a full ritual just to get a decent six hours. “I’ll have a solid opinion after their flight practice.”

“Good. With what happened at the White House, Celestial Island, and whatever the hell decides to show up next, we need the best.”

When half the world disappeared, we adjusted and survived. But when suddenly everyone came back, it was chaos. And things just keep happening. Now we live in a new fear—what if the Blip wasn’t the worst? What if something bigger is out there?

“We do.” I nod. “And I know I can push these pilots to their full potential.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why you’re here.” He smiles, patting my shoulder. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

I force a smile, ignoring the faint ache in my chest. “Thank you.”

He glances at my still-vibrating phone and raises a brow. “Looks like someone really wants to talk to you.”

I hesitate, then pick it up. “Excuse me, Colonel. This might be an emergency.”

With a small nod from him, I step into the hallway and answer. “Hello?”

“How’s my gorgeous girl?”

My body melts against the wall as my shoulders loosen, the stress of the morning fading instantly.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” My cheeks burn. It’s just a phone call, and yet he flusters me so easily. “Why are you calling from an unknown number? Is everything okay?”

“Not really—but we’re okay,” Joaquin sighs. “Listen, I’m going off the grid with Sam. I don’t know when I’ll be able to call or when I’ll be back. That’s all I can say for now.”

I sigh. I really miss him. It’s been weeks since I last saw him. We didn’t even get a proper date night. Instead, we ended up tearing down a wall in the house and pulling out carpet so filthy I don’t even want to guess when it was last cleaned.

“Don’t worry, yo entiendo.” That’s the thing about this job—you never know when you’ll be pulled into a mission or how long you’ll be gone.

“Please try not to worry too much,” he says gently, as if he can already sense my anxiety kicking in. “I’ll call when things clear up.”

I’m proud of him. I really am. But that damn Falcon suit still terrifies me. Some nights, I have to drag him away from working on it and into bed with me. Usually, that’s not an issue, but he’s too damn excited about having his own suit.

“Yo siempre me voy a preocupar por ti, Torres.” I push away the image of him falling from the sky, replacing it with something softer—his smile. The one I catch in the rare quiet of the morning when our schedules align. The one that greeted me at the airport after my deployment. The one he wore when he finally asked me out.

“I have to go,” he says, voice quieter now. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” My throat tightens. “Try to be careful. Please.”

“I’ll try.”

The Following Day, 22:00

“Today wasn’t terrible,” the exhausted group of pilots sighs. Some throw themselves onto the sofa, while others collapse onto the floor.

I could’ve gone easy on them—it’s only their second day with me. But that’s not my style. They’re decent pilots, and with a few tweaks, they’ll graduate as the best.

“Captain Estrada.”

I turn as Captain Sofia Ramos, my best friend, rushes into the common room, her face tight with urgency. “You need to see this.”

My gut clenches. I already know. Even before she grabs the remote and turns on the small TV mounted on the wall, I know.

Joaquin.

The broadcast cuts to footage from Celestial Island, the contested territory between America and Japan. My eyes lock onto the screen, and suddenly, no one else in the room exists. Just me and that damn TV light.

No. No, no, no.

I silently beg any god who will listen as I watch the Falcon in the background, disarming missiles—missiles fired from American fighter pilots.

“Everyone, clear out,” Ramos orders.

The pilots groan but comply, irritated that they’re being kicked out when Captain America is on-screen. They don’t get it. They don’t see what I see.

While everyone else watches Sam, my eyes are locked on the blurry figure in the background, engaging with the other pilots.

“What are they doing?” My voice is barely above a whisper, desperate. Every time Joaquin moves, nausea churns in my stomach.

“All I know is that our guys fired first,” Ramos says, her tone clipped. “It looks like Cap and Falcon are trying to stop them.”

I hear her, but I don’t respond. I can’t. My entire focus is glued to the screen. Paperwork be damned—I have to be here.

Sofia kneels beside me, wrapping a steadying arm around my shoulders. I always worry when Joaquin’s on a mission, not knowing where he is or who he’s fighting. But this—this is my worst nightmare. A front-row seat to him in combat, in the Falcon suit he spent countless hours perfecting. And I can’t do a damn thing.

“What are you doing?” My breath catches as the camera pans to Sam, with Joaquin in the background, flying straight toward two missiles.

“Shoot them down,” I beg the screen, as if he can hear me.

One missile explodes harmlessly in the distance.

The second—

Joaquin flies straight into it as it detonates.

The camera jerks away, refocusing on Sam.

“No—get him back! Move the camera!” I cry, scrambling to my feet, legs unsteady beneath me. “Did you see him fall? Please, tell me you saw him.”

I turn to Sofia, cheeks wet with tears, pleading for an answer neither of us has.

“If he fell, rescue will get to him,” she says firmly, pulling me into her, holding me tight as my body shakes from sobbing. “You and I know how it feels to be on that side. They have only the best there. He will make it home.”

I cling to her words, but fear sinks its claws deep into my chest.

“If I have to pull rank, I will get you on the next flight when he gets back,” she promises.

I nod weakly against her shoulder, unable to say anything past the lump in my throat.

Washington, DC - 14:34

In the end, Sofia didn’t have to pull rank. Colonel Matthews himself got me on a plane and straight to the hospital.

But now, standing outside, I can’t get in.

“Ma’am, I can’t let you in there. Only authorized personnel are allowed.”

I’ve been arguing with this officer for more than ten minutes, but he won’t budge. He won’t even listen.

“I’m his wife! I need to see him,” I shout, my voice cracking. Desperation claws at my throat, but the words don’t seem to reach him.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. You haven’t been cleared to enter the building.”

My hands shake as I pull out my military credentials and shove them toward him. “I work for the Air Force. Isn’t that clearance enough for you?”

His expression doesn’t waver. “I’m sorry, but no.”

I exhale sharply. Behind me, the press stirs, their voices rising, cameras flashing like lightning in a storm. But I can’t be bothered to care.

“You don’t understand—no one will tell me anything. I need to know if he’s okay.” My voice breaks, the hours of agony finally taking their toll. The waiting, the silence, the unanswered calls—it’s been unbearable. Joaquin could be—

No. I can’t let my mind go there.

“Vanessa?”

The familiar voice makes my head snap up.

Sam.

I could’ve kissed his feet right then and there.

“Sam! I need to see him, please.”

He looks like hell. His face is bruised, exhaustion etched deep into his features. His eyes, heavy with worry, probably mirror my own.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. “Officer, thank you for doing your job, but she’s with me.” He reaches for my hand, pulling me gently to his side.

The officer stiffens. “Of course, Captain. I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sam shakes his hand before leading me inside.

I pick at my nail beds as a nurse guides us toward a gallery room.

“Are you sure you want to see him like this?” Sam asks, his voice low.

I nod. If I try to speak, I’ll break.

He hesitates. “He’s on the table now. He has burns, and it’s not pretty, sweetheart.”

“I’ve been at war too, Sam,” I say carefully.

Sam exhales, then pushes the door open. I step inside first, my pulse thundering in my ears.

I’ve spent years in the force. I’ve seen injuries—horrific, fatal ones. I’ve suffered them myself.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared me for this.

Joaquin lies on the operating table, his body covered in burns, his skin raw and blistered. Doctors and nurses move around him in a blur, their voices overlapping as they work tirelessly.

My knees buckle.

Sam catches me before I hit the floor.

“It’s one thing being kept in the dark when he’s away,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of machines. “But watching it happen on TV was a living nightmare.” My throat tightens. “I can’t take my eyes off him now. I’m scared that if I blink, he’ll be gone.”

Sam is quiet for a long moment. Then, barely above a whisper, he says, “I’m sorry.” His hands are deep in his pockets, his shoulders tense. “I tried. But I failed the kid.”

I shake my head immediately. “Don’t you dare, Sam Wilson.” My voice steadies, sharp with conviction. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, and neither will he.”

His jaw clenches. “I could’ve done more.”

“You carry the weight of the world, Sam. We do the best we can out there—we try to save everyone. But sometimes, we can’t.” I reach for his arm, squeezing gently. “You saved the day. You both did. And I’m grateful you made it back home.”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “You would’ve beaten my ass if I didn’t bring him back in one piece.”

A small, watery smile tugs at my lips. “If the both of you had died out there, I would’ve brought you back just to kill you myself.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, and I nudge his arm playfully, the moment of levity breaking through the weight in the room.

But when I look back at Joaquin, the lump in my throat returns.

“You two are important to me,” I say softly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

And as I watch the machines breathe for Joaquin, I silently pray he heard me too.

A Few Days Later - 13:11

“Surgery went well. There were some complications, but thankfully, he’s stable now,” I say into the phone, my voice still laced with exhaustion.

“I’m glad, honey.” Sofia’s voice is a balm on the other end. “You had me scared for a second there.”

“Thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve completely broken down in front of everyone.” I exhale, pressing my fingers to my temple. The memory of that moment—when the weight of everything nearly crushed me—is still fresh. If Sofia hadn’t cleared the room before I shattered entirely, I don’t know what I would’ve done. “Honestly? I blacked out. I don’t even remember getting on the plane. It wasn’t until Sam was walking me toward the hospital that my brain seemed to wake up.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No. They put him in an induced coma to help his body heal, but he’s been stirring more lately. It won’t be long now.” My voice softens. Joaquin was there for me when my body endured its own battles—now it’s my turn to return the favor. For now, Sofia and Colonel Matthews will oversee my squadron’s training while I stay behind to help Joaquin recover.

“I have to go, but keep me in the loop, babes.” We exchange quick goodbyes before she hangs up, off to oversee flight maneuvers for the team.

I tug at the sleeves of Joaquin’s favorite football hoodie—the one I’ve been practically living in since the moment I stepped into the hospital. His scent lingers in the fabric, the only comfort I’ve had in days. The only time I’ve left his side has been when Isaiah or Sam dragged me away to eat or take a quick shower.

Even now, my stomach twists in knots. Sam brought me food, a thoughtful gesture, but I can barely stomach more than a few bites of fries before nausea wins again. I wrap the leftovers back into the paper bag and sit on the bench in the hospital’s courtyard, letting the late afternoon breeze wash over me. Sam had forced me outside, insisting I needed fresh air that wasn’t recycled through hospital vents.

Eventually, I make my way back inside, my steps heavy with exhaustion. The press has finally cleared out, leaving the entrance eerily quiet. I offer the nurses a small, tired smile as I head toward Joaquin’s room, already dreading another night on that stiff hospital sofa—the damn thing might as well be made of cardboard.

I reach for the door handle but freeze.

A sound echoes from inside.

Laughter.

My pulse spikes.

I push the door open, my breath catching at the sight before me.

Joaquin. Awake.

He and Sam are laughing about something, the warm, familiar sound hitting me like a punch to the chest.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Joaquin says, his voice rough, tired—alive.

Just like that, the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over.

His face has more color now, the rawness of his injuries still evident but softened by the warmth of his smile—the same smile I fell in love with all those years ago.

It’s only been a few days. But it feels like a lifetime.

“Come here,” he murmurs, opening his arms.

I don’t hesitate. I slip onto the bed carefully, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. For the first time in days, the world outside disappears. Neither of us notices when Sam quietly slips out of the room giving us some privacy.

His arms wrap around me, firm despite the exhaustion in his body. A quiet groan slips from him at the movement, and I start to pull back, worried, but he tightens his hold—well, as much as he can.

“Don’t you dare, wife,” Joaquin teases, his thumb brushing my shoulder.

I let out a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I needed a way to get in and stay here with you.”

“I love the sound of you being my wife, but for now, let’s focus on that fixer-upper you begged me to leave an offer on.”

I roll my eyes. “Begged? Please. I barely had to convince you.”

He chuckles. “The second you mentioned an outdoor kitchen and a barbecue pit, I was done for.”

I grin. “Don’t worry. I’m in no rush.” Because right now, I have everything I need—him, here, safe.

“Mrs. Vanessa Torres has a nice ring to it,” he muses.

I tilt my head, smirking. “Mrs. Vanessa Torres-Estrada sounds even better.”

His lips curl into a slow smile. “You got yourself a deal.”

He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my empty ring finger before pulling me in for the first real kiss we’ve shared in weeks.

And for the first time in days, I finally breathe.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres imagines #joaquin torres x reader #captain america: brave new world #spoilers #the falcon #joaquin torres fic #danny ramirez x reader #danny ramirez fic #danny ramirez imagines #the falcon imagines

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valeisaslut · 2 months ago

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Collide Ellie and reader doing the puppy interview would be so cute omfg

OMG YESYESYESYESYES I LOVEEE THE PUPPY INTERVIEWS OMFG. here’s the full vision:

COLLIDE ROCKSTAR!ELLIE AND POPSTAR!READER: PUPPY INTERVIEW'S VERSION

you and ellie walk onto the pink set. you’ve got this gorgeous pastel outfit on—tiny miniskirt, expensive-as-hell pearl earrings and necklace, heels so tall you have to hold onto her arm. and ellie? she’s in black jeans, combat boots, a ripped tank. her arms and tattoos are out, and she's chewing gum like she owns the place.

and then the puppies come in.

you SCREAM.

ellie flinches.

“they’re so small,” she says like she’s just seen aliens.

“they’re BABIES,” you gasp, immediately throwing yourself on the floor like one of them isn’t gonna pee on your versace skirt.

a golden retriever puppy starts licking your face and you’re fully melting. like, kicking your feet giggling melting. ellie watches you for two seconds before giving up and lying down next to you like, “fuck it. i’ll die here.”

then the questions start.

“okay, first question,” the interviewer say while you are trying not to cry because there’s a labrador chewing on your sleeve. “what was your first impression of each other?”

ellie raises an eyebrow. “horny.”

you slap her thigh. “ELLIE.”

“what? it’s true.”

you look at the camera like you’re on the office. “mine was that she looked like she could ruin my life. which… accurate.”

the interviewer laughs off-screen.

“okay, next: what’s your favorite song the other has written?”

ellie grabs a puppy, cradling it like a baby. “easy. Into you.”

you narrow your eyes. “because of the lyrics or because how i sound in the demo version?”

ellie smirks. “yes.”

you answer with do not disturb and for your love, obviously, and ellie gets all blushy and weird, which is rare and sacred. she hides behind a puppy and mumbles, “that’s illegal.”

“who said i love you first?”

you both freeze.

a puppy barks.

you slowly turn to each other.

“you did,” you say at the exact same time ellie goes, “i did.”

and then you’re both grinning like idiots.

“what’s something the other person does that always makes you soft?”

ellie clears her throat. “when she wears my clothes. especially the ugly ones.”

“excuse me?” you gasp. “you mean the green hoodie that smells like weed?”

“yeah,” she says. “i’d marry you in that hoodie.”

you pet a puppy for comfort. “when she draws. she thinks i don’t notice but she always draws me when i’m asleep.”

ellie pauses. looks at you. “how do you know that?”

“jesse snitched.”

“he’s dead to me.”

you laugh. “also when she tucks her hand in the back of my jeans in public. it’s slutty and romantic.”

ellie just nods. “that’s the goal.”

and the last question: “if you could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be?”

“easy,” you say. “ellie.”

“i was gonna say that,” ellie grumbles.

“aww, really?”

“yeah. you could build shelter. i could… hunt. or whatever.”

“with what, your bare gay hands?”

ellie grabs a puppy and throws it gently into your lap. “yes. exactly.”

the interview ends with you both lying on the floor, surrounded by puppies, giggling like teenagers. ellie’s hand is on your thigh, you’re feeding a chihuahua a treat, and someone off-camera says, “okay, we got the shot,” but neither of you move.

bonus: the top youtube comment is: “watching ellie go from ‘i’ll never do a couples interview’ to ‘hand me that shih tzu and my girlfriend’ is so healing.”

the second one is: “i just know they made out for an hour after this. covered in puppy fur.”

you did.

but... KITTEN INTERVIEW VERSION BCOS IM A CAT PERSON:

the internet wouldn’t survive. you walk in already smiling because the producer told you there’d be at least twelve kittens. ellie pretends she’s unfazed with the whole rockstar thing going, but the second a tiny gray fluffball climbs onto her boot and meows, she melts. visibly.

you catch her whispering “hi, little guy” like she didn’t say ten minutes ago that she’s “more of a dog person.” soon there’s a calico draped across your lap, another sleeping in the hood of ellie’s jacket, and a tiny orange kitten chewing on your mic cord. it’s chaos. adorable, purring chaos.

the questions barely get answered. ellie’s too busy cradling one kitten like a baby while the other climbs onto her shoulder like a parrot. when asked about your love language, she goes “mine is physical touch, hers is cats,” and you snort-laugh loud enough to wake every sleeping feline. you say “mine’s quality time, actually,” and she looks you dead in the eye and says “same thing.”

half the video is just the two of you cooing at kittens and accidentally revealing things like “she sleeps with a stuffed animal named after me” or “i got a tattoo of her handwriting and she doesn’t even know where.” one kitten ends up napping right against ellie's chest, and when you look at her and say “that should be me,” she just smirks and mouths, “later.” the video gets 15 million views in three hours. top comment: “cats and lesbians. this healed me.”

#nonnie req .ᐟ₊˚⊹ ♡

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

jade my heart I’m really feeling Peter parker tonight in this chilis. maybe just Pete listening to r go on about something she likes? Like a book or a tv show and he’s just listening but also so obsessed with her and thinks she’s adorable? I love u! 🫶🏻

ily ty for requesting <3 fem

“It’s a prequel, you know?”

Peter feels fondness for you pretty much every second of the day, but the way you’re asking without looking at him, and the way you’re laying across his lap so unbothered, he finds himself grinning like a mad man. “I did not know that,” he says.

You nod up and down with a severe sort of look about you, as though this is of the utmost importance. If Peter doesn’t get on the same page as you soon, he’s not gonna make it. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the first trilogy. Like, I like you so much, but where the hell have you been?”

“Where have I been?” he wonders.

“Anyways, that’s not the point, sorry. They’re complicated movies. You’d like them, though. Next time I’ll bring my DVD’s and we can watch them, if you want to, you’ll really like them, or you’ll really like Natalie Portman, at least. She’s beautiful. And her character is so… complicated, I guess, she’s doomed from the beginning of the narrative and she’s the catalyst for so much but she’s also just… sorry, I’m being totally boring.”

“Says who?”

Doesn’t take much more than that to get you rolling again, you want to tell him that badly, “I don’t wanna spoil it anymore because I really think you’ll love them if you watch them, but you’re gonna need to watch the first trilogy to get the emotional impact, and you’ll love them, don’t worry.”

“I’ll love them,” he agrees, attempting to lean down for a kiss.

“Wait, is this a shut me up kiss?” you whisper.

Peter shakes his head as he kisses you, serving for a wobbly but soft press of your lips to his. “Never. Tell me everything about it.”

You talk until you’re hoarse, literally hoarse, and Peter has to make you a cup of water. His cheeks are hurting from smiling at you. You’ve never looked this cute, not once, not even when he took you to Coney Island and you screamed the house down on all the rides.

“I think we better go and get those DVDs,” he says.

“It’s dark out,” you say.

“We’ll swing.”

“Isn’t that against your code of ethics?” You sip your drink, pointing at him. “We’ll hear someone who needs help on the way and you’ll drop my extended editions to save them.”

“I won’t drop anything,” he says. “Come on! Come on, if you’re this excited just talking about it I wanna see how pretty you are when we’re actually watching the movies.”

You press your smile into a line. “You’re not just humouring me?”

“I could listen to you talk for hours, baby, but you sound like you did the second time we got off of The Cyclone.”

You do a spinning, meandering dance into his arms. “If you insist.”

Your feigned reluctance is adorable. He grabs you in both hands for another misaligned kiss.

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matchalovertrait · 4 months ago

Text

Antonio's big secret has been revealed: he's the grandson of Alfonso Alto, the main villain of Generation One. We thought we knew everything about Alfonso's history and family, but a whole other world was taking shape while the story focused solely on the lives of the Alegrías.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

NOTE: No, seriously! A whole other world. This has been in development since Dulce was a toddler. That was over a year ago. If I did this right, many of Antonio's lines and actions can be viewed with a new pair of eyes.

NOTE: "Who the hell is this guy again?" This, this, this, and this post might be of help, but I can also try to answer any questions if they're not spoiler-y! I know what one of these posts says, but hey, did we ever see it happen? 👁️

NOTE: Alicia is "Ashley Alto" and Frankie is "Unborn Baby Hernandez." I have no real reason for renaming Ashley other than I just think it suits her better. The "big boss man" that Frankie referred to was indeed Alfonso, not Antonio's actual boss at the law firm.

NOTE: Now I leave for a couple of days. Enjoy 😁

[Del Sol Valley, California]

[A few days had passed since Yoltic showed up unexpectedly at Antonio’s apartment. Turns out, Yoltic’s suspicions were correct, and that made Antonio rethink everything even more. Was his secret that obvious? Surely not.]

[However, Yoltic learned just how much worse the situation was once they sat down and talked about it. A solution wouldn’t come overnight. All he could do was be supportive.]

YOLTIC: It’s fine, you have nothing to worry about. You still have an invite to my wedding.

ANTONIO: Are you certain?

YOLTIC: Yeah! But, can I tell Dani about this? I probably shouldn’t keep it from her...

ANTONIO: If it makes you forgive me, sure. I don’t want Caruso uncovering this, though. He already found my personal phone number and enemy. I’ve been on edge ever since I found out about the private investigator. Maybe it’s only a matter of time-

[Antonio’s thoughts were disrupted by the vibration of his cellphone. He sighed when he looked at the caller ID but pressed the green button anyway.]

ANTONIO: Bueno?

ALICIA: Cariño! I just got off the phone with your grandfather.

ANTONIO: Mhm..?

ALICIA: He’s upset because you haven’t visited him in months, he says.

ANTONIO: I’ve been busy.

ALICIA: Like with the Alegría case? Seriously mijo, what were you thinking? You’re going to bankrupt us one of these days.

ANTONIO: Mamá, please. Frankie already spoke to me about it.

ALICIA: Are you telling me they have more common sense than you? That’s funny. I don’t see flying pigs in the sky.

ANTONIO: What a way to insult your child and sibling.

ALICIA: Oh, you’re too sensitive.

???: Ashley? Is that you?

[An old friend from her home country recognized her.]

ALICIA: Ay dios mío! No, no, I’m Alicia again. “Ashley” was the stupid girl who believed in juvenile things like the tooth fairy and true love. How have you been, darling?

ANTONIO: ..Hello? Mamá?

ALICIA: I came across someone from the island! Can you believe it? Anyway, go see your grandfather. Today. ASAP. He’s expecting you. Bye!!

[The call ended.]

ANTONIO: I have a schedule for reason.

[Antonio arrived at the prison. He hated this place, but business had to be taken care of.]

STAFF: Mr. Romero. The client is waiting for you. Please proceed.

ANTONIO: Thank you.

OFFICER: Sir, your lawyer is here.

???: About time! You can go. Give us some privacy.

OFFICER: Yes, Mr. Alto.

[The officer nodded and left.]

ALFONSO: Sit down.

ANTONIO: You wanted to see me?

ALFONSO: What sort of question is that? Of course! I don’t see you working hard enough to get me out of here, boy.

[Alfonso scoffed.]

ALFONSO: My own grandson...

#😴🛏️#oc mlt: antonio romero #oc mlt: yoltic xicoténcatl #oc mlt: alicia romero #tjolc gen 2 #tjolc #the joy of life challenge #joy of life legacy #matchalovertrait #sims 4 #the sims 4 #alegria legacy #tjol challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 story #alfonso alto

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rafesbabygirlx · 9 months ago

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A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 5

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

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

A/N: after this point you don’t really see Sofia, at least for a while. Maybe at 1 point but I haven’t decided.

I don’t know what Part 2 of the season will bring but from here on out it’s just a rewrite of events that will include Maybank reader instead. Also there’s some use of Y/N here since some conversations don’t happen with her. enjoy :)

2nd note: please let me know if you like this. I love the story telling and building the plot but wanna make sure it’s doing well. Don’t want anyone getting bored :)

Not proofread

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: nothing but soft Rafe tbh and setting up story lines. Next part will be fun

“I’m going to head out for a bit, okay? I have a few things I need to take care of. How about we meet up later at my place?” He asks as you and Rafe made your way down the path. You carried the cozy blanket and picnic basket filled with remnants from your breakfast, while he cradled Vivienne, their bond already evident in the way he held her close.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, a broad grin spreading across his face.

He lovingly passed you Vivienne after showering her with a load of affectionate kisses, and then, without missing a beat, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. The warmth of that brief connection caught you off guard. You wouldn’t lie; while you had anticipated this moment, you hadn’t expected the domesticity of it all to hit you like this. It felt so natural for him, yet it brought a flurry of emotions bubbling to the surface for you.

The kiss lingered on your lips, and you could feel the warmth emanating from both Rafe and Vivienne, creating an intimate bubble that shielded you from the rest of the world. Rafe's ability to seamlessly blend fatherhood with his charming personality was surprising; he made the whole experience seem effortless, like it was second nature to him.

You couldn't help but marvel at how your relationship had transformed over the course of just a couple of days. Just a year and a half ago, Rafe was simply the bad guy, made to make your brother and his friends lives hell. Now, he was someone who shared quiet moments and laughter with you as a family. Holding the blanket and basket in your arms, you felt an undeniable connection forming. Guilt still creeping in. You wished you allowed him to experience her first year.

As you began to walk away, your mind twirled with thoughts about what the evening might hold. You both had created unforgettable memories together, but this moment felt distinct; it brimmed with the promise of something more profound. Perhaps it was the awareness that you were becoming an integral part of his world—a world filled with simple joys, late-night giggles, and unexpected kisses. As the sun raised above the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, a smile crept across your face at the thought of the future and what lay ahead.

“Say bye dada” you tell V

“Bye dada!” V yells from off the porch

Rafe yells bye back and blows her a kiss. Driving off to do his business as you head inside.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe returns to his house, his thoughts racing as he walks through the door. On the way there, he texted Sofia, asking her to meet him. The weight of the conversation ahead loomed heavy in his chest.

Sofia arrives shortly after. “Hey, Rafe,” she greets him warmly.

“Hey.”

She steps in close and pulls him into a tight, loving hug, but Rafe doesn’t return the embrace with the same intensity. Her smile falters, and she looks up at him, concern etched across her face.

“What’s wrong? Did things not go well with your daughter?” she asks softly.

Rafe shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He gestures for her to sit with him outside by the pool. Once they’re settled, he continues, his voice a little distant. “She’s… she’s perfect. Vivienne. That’s her name. She’s the most perfect little girl to ever exist. She looks just like me. She’s so beautiful, so happy.” His words trail off, but Sofia knows there’s more. She feels a knot forming in her stomach.

“I needed to talk to you about some things,” he adds, his tone turning serious.

“Okay…” Sofia replies hesitantly, her heart beginning to race.

Rafe takes a deep breath. “I want to focus on her. On Vivienne. And… um… I want to focus on my family, with both of them. I never expected things to play out this way, and I’m sorry, but this is what I want. I need to be there for them. We need to end this.”

Sofia’s face falls, the words hitting her like a punch. “Oh,” she whispers, barely audible. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it. She thought what they had was special, that he felt the same. But now, he was going back—back to Y/N, back to his family. “Maybe you should, then,” she adds quietly, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s only right.”

Rafe finally meets her gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It wasn’t planned, okay? You know that. But everything came rushing back—every memory, every feeling. And now that V is in the picture, I can’t deny it.”

Sofia doesn’t speak for a few moments, letting the weight of his words settle. She hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t imagined she’d be here, blindsided by the sudden shift in his priorities. She didn’t expect to become a ‘stepmom,’ but she had been willing to sacrifice for him—she had believed in what they had.

But now, as sadness sinks in, so does a flicker of anger. It drags her back to a few days ago, when everything still felt right—before Y/N came back into the picture. She remembers overhearing Rafe talking to Ruthie and Topper, saying she was just a hookup, that he could never be with a Pogue like that. Even though she knew it wasn’t true two times, one for you and the other her, the words had stung. They had left a mark. And now, with this revelation, they hurt even more.

In the days that followed, she had been tempted to meet with Hollis, after her dad suggested it. Initially, she’d rejected the idea because she had loved Rafe. She thought he loved her too. But after overhearing him she met with him. Took the money from her too. she planned to return it not being able to do it. But now, with Rafe pulling away, with him choosing another life—another woman—she has nothing to lose.

“I was thinking about that deal you mentioned,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “You should do it. I was hesitant before, but maybe it’s a good opportunity. It could be a way to build something for your daughter.”

Rafe looks at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “Maybe you’re right. I still have to decide, but I’m leaning toward going for it. It could be a good opportunity.” He shrugs, unsure of his next steps.

They sit in silence for a while, the weight of their relationship hanging in the air. Finally, Rafe turns to her. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me,” he says earnestly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just think my place is with Y/N and Vivienne.”

Sofia nods slowly, her heart aching. “I understand. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek before standing to leave.

Rafe grabs her hand gently. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Really, I am.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, her voice steady but hollow. “But you should definitely take that deal.”

Rafe smiles weakly at her, grateful for her understanding. As she walks away, leaving him alone by the pool, he takes a deep breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in. He knows he’s made his choice, but something nags at him—the way she had pushed the deal so hard. For a moment, it puzzles him, but he brushes it off as her wanting the best for him.

Sitting in the stillness, he lets his thoughts swirl before finally reaching for his phone. After some time alone, he dials your number, needing to see you, ready to move forward with the life he’s chosen.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You arrive an hour later. V wobbles into the house, running straight to Rafe. “Dada!” You both smile, the word now coming naturally to her. Rafe is completely smitten. She leans in for a kiss, then holds up her stuffed turtle for him to kiss too.

Rafe looks at you with a serious expression. “I broke up with her.”

Startled, you ask, “What?”

“I ended things with Sofia. I know what I want—it’s you and V.”

“Oh… That wasn’t my plan, Rafe. I didn’t want to ruin everything you’ve built.”

“It wasn’t mine either, but I’m sure now. Is this what you want? Please say yes, because I need to show you something.” He steps closer.

“Of course, yes.”

Rafe leads you and V upstairs. It feels strange not being at Tannyhill, a place you knew so well. You stop at a door with a wooden “V” hanging on it. Inside is a complete nursery—books, toys, a beautiful crib, and a cushioned rocking chair. One wall is covered with sea animal wallpaper, the others a clean white.

“I had an interior decorator come yesterday after I found out. I wanted it done quickly. The wallpaper went up this morning. Kelce stopped by to make sure everything was right.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You pull him in for a kiss and turn to see V already making a mess.

Later, you all head downstairs for dinner. As you eat, Rafe opens up about a deal involving Goat Island, the same place your brother and his friends recently visited.

“What are you going to do?” you ask as he clenches his fist.

“I’m not sure. It could be great—for us, for her.”

“You’ll figure it out. It does seem strange, but maybe Hollis is really looking out for you. I’ll support you no matter what.” You reach for his hand.

“I love you, Banks. You’ve always been the best to me.” Your eyes widen at the old nickname. Smiling softly, you reply, “I love you too, Cameron.”

Taglist-

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

#drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe x pogue #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #rafe x maybank #rafe x y/n

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stuckinmymind22 · 6 months ago

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zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

mildly proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you. “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence. little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile. “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions. maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

#gn reader #one piece headcanons #zoro headcanons #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #canon post

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lvis44 · 6 months ago

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Cabin Fever - Pt. 3 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: A bit more drama for you guys tonight but this is nothing compared to what we've got coming up, oopsie lol. Hoping to get the next part out quickly so it kinda aligns with the holidays in real time! I would also formally like to start an important conversation about why the hell this man only seems to own winter jackets the color of a highlighter (im sure it's for safety when snowboarding but pls). I love you all and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying our angsty little Christmas fic!

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

**italics are a jump back in time**

The moment you make your way downstairs the next morning you are ready to turn and run back up to your room. You can hear everyone in the kitchen already, much to your surprise. Their voices are much louder than you would have wanted but you carry on, aware that the only way you’re getting coffee is by showing your face in there.

“Well good morning sleepy head! I was wondering when you’d show up.” Your dad greets you warmly.

“Hey I was up long before any of you yesterday.” You argue as he pulls you into a side hug.

“I do believe I was up before you.” Lewis pipes up with a smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” You grumble, trying to conceal the roll of your eyes but when you meet Lewis’ gaze you know you’ve failed, “I need coffee, lots of it.”

Tom laughs from over at the coffee bar where he seems to be making himself some sort of fancy espresso, “Coming right up.”

You thank him, taking a seat next to your brother at the island, watching the chaos ensuing on the other side of the kitchen. Your mother, Beatrice, and Vanessa are in what seems to be party planning mode. They’re rummaging through cupboards and running back and forth to the fridge, Vanessa has a notebook out creating some sort of list, Beatrice is loudly reading some recipe from her phone.

“How long has this been going on?” You ask the men at the counter, trying to keep your voice low.

“About twenty minutes, they’ve probably got another twenty in them.” Lewis says, picking up his coffee and watching the scene himself.

You let out a deep breath, already exhausted by the amount of energy flowing through the room, praying you don’t somehow get sucked into it as well.

“Y/N, thank goodness you’re up!” Vanessa says excitedly, finally noticing your presence on one of her trips around the kitchen.

“Good Morning.” You respond softly, trying not to allow any chance of being roped into whatever is going on.

“So,” Vanessa's voice comes out chipper and matter of fact as she puts her palms down on the counter, evidently ready to give you the full run down, “I felt so bad yesterday, I had so many things planned for a fancy breakfast and the weather just had to ruin it all so I really want to make up for all of it today. Thank you again for pulling that off yesterday, I was so grateful, but I want a big fancy family brunch, we haven't had one in so so long and I’ve been thinking about it since I started planning this trip. And I don’t want it to be our Christmas morning brunch, I want it to be its own special moment, ya know?”

You can tell that your eyebrows have gotten higher on your forehead with every word that she has said, speaking faster than you could ever comprehend at the early hour. You hear your brother take a deep breath from next to you as Lewis chuckles lowly.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful, very talented ladies doing the cooking.” Tom tells his daughter before setting a delicious smelling cup of coffee down in front of you, “Here you go Y/N.”

“Thank you, it smells fantastic.” You say sincerely, happily wrapping your chilly hands around the warm cup.

“It better, I brought my own beans and everything. That should be the best cup of coffee you’ve had in your life.” He tells you proudly.

“It was a phenomenal cup of coffee.” Lewis says with an amused smile on his face, one that Tom seems to read as more genuine than you think it really is.

“Very good, very very good.” Dylan is quickly agreeing.

“Now listen,” Vanessa’s voice is quick to grab your attention again, “you did such an amazing job yesterday with breakfast and then helping with all the storm cleanup,”

Before she can finish Lewis lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff, cutting her off, “I don’t know if I would call whatever she was doing yesterday helping.” His voice is muffled by the rim of his coffee mug but you can hear the cheek to his voice, more teasing than the jabby tone it usually carries for you, you assume it's because of the current company.

You open your mouth to defend yourself but your brother is joining in quickly, “I mean she made a valiant effort but I do think I have to agree with Lewis on this one.” He’s laughing as he pinches at your side.

You try to find the right words to argue your defense but you realize you really can’t, thinking back to your ways of helping the day before.

You had started strong, initially heading out after breakfast to try to clean up all the branches that had been blown into the yard, that lasted for only twenty minutes before Lewis and Dylan were getting the plow and skidoo out of the garage. Once the big toys were out you had no more interest in your handheld rake and shovel. You had gone over to inspect the new fun equipment but were quickly shooed away by both Lewis and your brother, both claiming you were going to get in the way and possibly end up hurting yourself. You had accepted defeat, heading back to your sad pile of branches before once again getting quite distracted by the fun sound of the engine on the skidoo. You had done your best to act as if you were still working but you had ended up watching Lewis zip around the yard for much longer than you would have liked to admit. There was something about his level of both control and chaos behind the handlebars that scratched your brain just right and it irked you and brought you immense satisfaction all at once. Once your brother had gotten into the swing of plowing, Lewis following him down the hill to keep Vanessa's mind at ease, you had gotten back to your sad attempt at branch removal, by the time they made it back up to the house you were collecting your armful.

“Y/N you do know that it’s been a full hour and you don’t even have enough sticks to make a mouse a campfire, right?” Lewis had taunted you when he saw you walking across the driveway as he removed his goggles, your brother laughing as he hopped out of the plow.

“Oh fuck off, at least I was doing something, you were just joyriding.” You said sassily, quickly changing course so you weren’t walking directly past him.

“I,” He started, his voice long and drawn out to dramatically make his point, “was keeping your brother safe. The buddy system is very important, you know.”

“A knight in shining,” You started to say but before you could get the whole sentence out you were falling flat on your ass, your abysmal stick pile flying everywhere.

“Woah Y/N, shit you alright?” Your brother was quick to react, leaving his open truck door to run over to you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Lewis huffed out, also quickly making his way over to you.

They had both been there within an instant, squatting next to you to make sure you were alright. Your brother was handling you like fine china even though he could tell you were okay, Lewis however was immediately giving you shit.

“You do realize we’ve been here for like twelve hours and this is the second time you’ve fallen in front of me, right?” The tone of his voice was unamused despite offering you his hand to help pull you up.

“I did not fall last night.” You had tried to defend yourself as he got you to your feet, your brother still giving you a worried look like he thought you had secretly broken something.

“Because I caught you.” He had quickly pointed out.

“Whatever.” You grumbled as you bent down to collect your stick pile, admittedly leaving a good half of them behind before once again heading toward your brother's brush pile off by the shed. Before you could even make it half way, a very well aimed snowball was colliding with your ass cheek, once again knocking the sticks out of your arms.

“I am going to fucking kill you.’ You had exclaimed loudly, quickly gathering a large armload of snow to form into your own snowball before turning around and whipping it in their direction. You ended up hitting your brother, immediately feeling a little bad because you assumed it had come from Lewis in the first place. Lewis let out a cackle when the snowball hit your brother, evidently pleased that he hadn’t been the one to get in trouble.

“Oh hell no, that was meant for you.” Dylan had said, also laughing but incredibly serious, his own snowball already being packed tightly to whip at Lewis. Much to your pleasure, Dylan was much closer to Lewis and was much stronger than you so you could tell the impact didn’t feel amazing when it finally slapped into his chest.

“I just thought you should put some ice on it after that fall, I was trying to be helpful.” Lewis laughed as he put his arms up to guard himself from any further snowballs being sent his way. You and your brother exchanged a look, both of you loading up again, hurling snow in Lewis’ direction.

He screamed as he turned to run, his snow gear making him much less agile than he would normally be. He had finally found steady footing, his own snowballs being sent in both of your directions, all three of you in a fit of laughter. Somewhere along the line your alliance with your brother had crumbled, his snowballs being sent your way as well, no longer reserved for just Lewis. By the time you finally called truce you had all been absolutely soaked, your stomachs hurting from laughing so hard and your pile of sticks long forgotten. When you made your way back to the house you had found yourself very surprised at how playful and fun that time with Lewis had been but you decided that it must have been a bit of a fluke, knowing it wouldn’t last the rest of the day.

You try to think of a way to argue your defense but you have to admit to yourself that you really can’t, you truthfully didn’t do any actual storm cleanup yesterday.

“It’s the thought that counts, I tried.” You grumble into your mug as the two men laugh.

“Well, either way, you absolutely slayed it with breakfast and putting up with them,” Vanessa gives you a smirk, trying to take away their ammunition, “so I want you to just relax this morning, Moms and I will take care of all things brunch, you just enjoy the pretty scenery and your amazing coffee.”

You smile at her, mouthing a thank you, grateful that you are not expected to be part of the brunch circus that is unfolding in the kitchen before you. Your mother and Beatrice are still frantically figuring out if they have everything for some recipe that they have selected. You sit back, watching as Vanessa returns to her chaos with your mothers, seeming weirdly at home within it. Tom and your father begin loudly discussing just where Tom is sourcing his coffee beans, raising the volume of the kitchen just that much more. You go to turn to your brother, only to find him standing from his seat to rinse out his coffee cup. Lewis is grabbing his phone and eagerly taking a call, leaving the room rapidly. You let out a sigh, choosing to make your way into the den with your coffee, hoping for some level of peace in there. The room is cozy, a fire already going and a light snow falling outside the large windows. You try to settle into one of the plush couches but as you sit there you feel yourself growing more and more aggravated. On one side you can hear your family in the kitchen, all talking loudly about different subjects that don’t even meld together into anything coherent, on the other side you can hear Lewis’ muffled voice on the phone. You can’t actually make out anything that he’s speaking about but the low timbre is enough to be disruptive. You find it hard to believe that in a house of this size you can’t find any silence, yet here you are, you shouldn’t be shocked with it being your family. You decide you can only take so much and come to the conclusion that you would rather be out in the cold and quiet than in here with the chatter. You take your coffee and head off to the foyer to find your winter gear to bundle up, the better idea of just going to your room nowhere to be seen in your head. You get as cozy as possible, grabbing a blanket out of the den before heading back to the kitchen.

“I think I’m just gonna go sit out back for a little while and appreciate the view while I have my coffee.” You awkwardly announce as you make your way to the backdoor, raising your blanket in your hand as you do.

“That sounds absolutely lovely, enjoy yourself!” Beatrice exclaims, overly enthusiastic about your plans.

When you first step out of the house you begin to question your plans, the cold air immediately hitting your face and wrapping you in an unforgiving cocoon, but the moment the door closes behind you, you’re at peace. The door seals your family and their loud chatter away wonderfully, just the gentle howl of the wind and small noises of things falling in the forest left to be heard. You make your way across the covered deck, settling into one of the luxurious outdoor couches overlooking the large backyard and forest. You snuggle as far as possible into your blanket, trying to keep as much of your body heat as possible. You can feel a deep sigh leave your body as you take in your surroundings, admitting to yourself that as much as you hate winter, you do love the beauty of the blanketing of snow. You sit in silence for a while, just sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful way the world is waking up, the snow falling gently. It sadly doesn’t take long for your silence to be interrupted, the door opening behind you. You let out a huff when you see who is making their way outdoors.

“Ocupado.” You say sassily as you turn your attention back out to the view in front of you.

Lewis just scoffs, making his way over to sit on one of the couches near you.

“Seriously, I just need some silence. Do you have nowhere else to go?” You groan childishly, seeing him settling into his seat.

“I let you get warm in front of my fire yesterday, I think you can share the silence of your deck with me now.” He says, his voice just as sassy.

You go to argue with him, wanting to tell him that it’s not the same and his fire was in the den, a common area, but you quickly realize that this too is a common area that you have no monopoly over. You decide to bite your tongue, rolling your eyes as he settles deeper into the couch, pulling his phone out. You decide to do the same, feeling awkward staring into the trees now that you have company. It doesn’t take long before the first post from a friend is popping up on your feed. She is back in California, a small party dress on that would have you getting hypothermia here. The post is about a party that you had known would be happening, a fun Christmas get together with a bunch of your friends that you would have loved to have been at, carefree and ridiculous fun. You let out a huff as you scroll through her post, the fomo eating you alive as you do so.

“Thought you wanted silence.” Lewis grumbles from his spot at the sound of your huff, his voice already laced with annoyance.

“So sorry to disturb you, your highness.” You fire back at him sarcastically.

“It’s just sir, I’m a knight, not technically royalty.” He replies, his voice so cocky that it makes you want to smack him, only stopping when you see the slightly teasing smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes again, not even having the energy to come up with something witty to say back to him in the moment.

“Seriously though, what’s got you in such a mood?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, much to your surprise.

“I’m not in a mood.” You mutter, burrowing further into your blanket, your attention back on your phone.

He lets out a chuckle at your response, “Yeah the huffing and puffing really sells that narrative well.”

“Oh shut up, you know I don’t particularly want to be here, just let it go.” You say quietly, not wanting your family to hear your disdain for your surroundings.

“I know, and me being here probably isn’t helping that, but it seemed like there was something else going on. Thought you saw something that was upsetting you.” He says casually, shrugging like it’s a normal conversation for the two of you to be having.

You’re taken aback by his casual and genuinely curious nature, not being used to anything like this from Lewis. It takes your guard down, quicker than it should. You let out a sigh, deciding, against your better judgement, to confide in him a little bit. You know he could come back with some level of snippy remark but you were prepared for that, maybe he would actually have a normal conversation with you for once.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but seeing everyone enjoying their lives as adults and doing what they want, where they want, I don’t know, it’s just driving me a bit insane.” You divulge, not getting your point across in quite the way you meant to.

He raises an eyebrow at you, evidently rather confused by what you mean, “I mean, you’re an adult, you spend 99% of the year doing what you want, where you want. What’s the problem?”

You just shake your head, deciding to instead show him the post that caused the initial huff. You watch as his brows furrow while he scrolls through the instagram post you handed him. Quickly his face turns from curious to judgemental. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he finally hands you your phone back.

“So you’d rather be back in the smog of LA where you can’t even tell it’s Christmas, dressed in a skimpy dress with your friends? You’d prefer that to fresh mountain air, a white Christmas, and your family that loves you?” His tone is belittling as he reads the situation completely incorrectly, his questions coming out more as statements, as if nothing that you say now will change his mind.

Your jaw drops at the accusation, a loud scoff leaving your throat as you snatch your phone back from him, “How dare you, that was not the point I was trying to make.” You begin to argue before he’s cutting you off.

“You see those people all the time Y/N, how often do you see any of your family?” He raises his brow in challenge but doesn’t give you time to formulate a response before he’s carrying on, “We all know you don’t want to be here, just suck it up, a little bit of winter mountain air and family time isn’t going to kill you.” He doesn’t wait for a rebuttal, he just stands from his seat as if he’s just finished reprimanding a child and walks away, back inside.

He leaves you in your seat, silent and fuming but also leaving you feeling a tad guilty. He is correct, you don’t want to be here, but it has nothing to do with you preferring to be out in a skimpy dress in LA, it’s about your freedom. Having the freedom to do as you please and be where you want, something you haven’t had a ton of in your life. You hate that everyone knows that you would prefer to be somewhere else, making you feel as if you’re almost a burden. You hate that Lewis feels that he has the right to make such deep assumptions about you and treat them as fact and you hate even more that he feels he has the right to lecture you based on those assumptions.

You end up staying out on the back deck much longer than you had originally planned, only finally making your way back indoors when Vanessa announces that brunch is served. You do your best to ignore him, not even looking in his direction. Instead you spend most of brunch quizzing Vanessa on things about her brunch that in all honesty you aren’t particularly interested in, but listening to Vanessa explain how he gets her eggs to fluffy is much better than having to even think about dealing with the man sitting at the other end of the table.

It irks you that you can hear him chatting so freely and happily down the table, as if he hadn’t accosted you on the porch mere hours beforehand. You find yourself already making a plan for escape before you’ve even cleared your plate.

Avoiding him throughout the rest of the day ends up being shockingly easy. You take an extra long time getting ready before helping Vanessa and your mom with some last minute gift wrapping. You can’t help but laugh when you see that Vanessa's “last minute stuff” actually appears to be a majority of her gifts, but you don’t complain, knowing it will take up more of your time, and in turn help in your game of avoidance. You can hear Lewis chatting off in the distance, your father quizzing him eagerly on his car collection after hearing he added something new. Lewis gushed with ease, thoroughly entertaining your fathers questions and while it could be considered a nice conversation you felt like it sounded arrogant, flashy.

“Boys and their toys.” Your mom muttered with a laugh, also listening to bits of the conversation, your father now seemingly showing Lewis photos of a car he had back in the nineties.

“Tell me about it, I couldn’t for the life of me get Dylan out of that plow truck when we first bought it and the snow hadn’t even fallen yet.” Vanessa exclaims, shaking her head.

You just laugh as you lean back to stare out the window for a moment, admiring the way the world is beginning to turn blue as the sun goes down. As if he’s noticed it getting dark at the very same moment, Dylan is bursting into the room talking about Christmas lights.

“Get out, we are not finished in here Mr.” Vanessa is quickly squealing, throwing her body in front of the few remaining unwrapped gifts.

“Okay, okay,” Dylan laughs, throwing his hand over his eyes before continuing, “What I was saying is the lights in the forest look like they stayed up through the storm! It’s getting dark so I was hoping we could all take a walk out there, it’ll be beautiful.”

“That sounds nice Dyl, give us just a little time to get ready.” You say softly, eager to see the lights that have your brother so excited.

“Sweet, I’ll go let the guys know.” He says like a little kid, whipping around to go inform them of the new plans.

“He made an absolute wonderland out there, you guys are going to love it.” Vanessa says, already standing up to collect the remaining wrapping paper, shoving things away like she’s now on a time crunch.

You take that as your sign to go change and get ready for a winter walk. When you go to head upstairs you finally cross paths with Lewis who seems to be headed to his own room, you pause for a moment before flicking your gaze away and trying to move past him.

“Joining us on the walk?” He asks, his voice cold, sounding like he’s expectant of a no.

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You waver slightly, caught off guard that he had any words for you at all. You wished your voice had come out stronger, not wanting him to feel like he had any sort of upperhand, that he had gotten under your skin.

He does actually look surprised, his eyebrows twitching up in a certain judgemental look of disbelief before he is once again turning on his heel. He doesn’t say a word, just walks away to his bedroom.

When you make your way back downstairs, everyone is there and waiting. Dylan is animatedly explaining how he set up with power for the lights and how they follow all of the groomed paths in a certain pattern. Once he notices that you’re there he is directing everyone to follow him to the back yard, still explaining his tree lighting process on the way. You can’t help the grimace that leaves your body when you step outside, the temperature having dropped drastically since you were out here earlier. You try to just burrow further into your coat, not wanting to complain after being made so aware of your attitude earlier today.

As you wander the paths you find yourself mesmerized, Vanessa was right about the absolute wonderland of it all. The glittery lights look like stars, spanning higher up trees than you would like to think about your brother being, but regardless they are breathtaking. You find yourself falling away from the group a bit, too caught up in admiring the gorgeous trees and trying to keep as much of your warmth in as possible. Your family carries on walking, unaware of your sudden slow pace, Lewis however seems to notice and slows down himself. So much that you almost trip over him, having been blissfully unaware of his presence.

“You okay?” He asks you when you’re steady on your feet.

“I’m just fine Lewis.” Your voice is as cold as the outdoor air as you avoid looking in his direction.

“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His tone has lost its earlier harshness but still carries that bit of arrogance as you catch him smirking at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Just wore the wrong jacket, I’ll be fine.” You argue, keeping your voice short but still pulling your thin jacket tighter. You're mentally cursing yourself for not having worn your puffer.

“Do you want to head back? I’ll walk with you.” His offer catches you off guard, his voice sincere and almost kind as he continues to stare at you, the smirk gone.

“I’m fine,” You say yet again, your voice slightly quieter now, “Dylan worked hard on this, I’ll survive.”

Just as you once again reiterate your argument a gust of wind comes through, picking up the loose snow and blowing it around you sending yet another chill directly down your spine. Lewis evidently notices the cold seeping deeper into your bones, taking it upon himself to make the decision.

“Y/N and I are gonna head back to the house, she’s getting a little too cold, gonna get her something warm, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” He yells ahead to your family against your will.

“Oh, hun, are you okay?” Your mother is immediately concerned.

“I’m fine, I’m not going back.” You start to insist but Lewis is stepping in yet again.

“She’s fine, just wore the wrong jacket. The lights look amazing Dylan, well come see them when she’s warmed up.” Before you can say anything he’s starting to usher you back down the path, Dylan is thanking him and Vanessa is telling you where to find more blankets.

Lewis is guiding you down the path, his body close against your back and his grip firm on your waist as if you don’t know the way. You hate the way he is manhandling you but you have to admit you are relishing in the warmth coming from the proximity. You don’t allow it to go on for too long, wrenching yourself out of his grip once you’re far enough away from your family. You pick up your pace, both in a show of defiance and actually quite wanting to get back to the warmth of the house. You hear him let out a scoff behind you as you throw your little tantrum.

The heat of the house is immediately welcoming, wrapping around you like a hug the moment you open the door. You take a moment to let the heat sink into your bones before even moving to remove your jacket. Lewis stands there watching you for a moment, just shaking his head before taking off his own large puffer.

“What?” You groan, assuming he has a comment to make.

“You know sub zero temps usually require a little more than a flimsy fashion jacket from the mall, right?” His voice is laced with judgement again, the kindness from the forest long gone.

“Oh, would you just fuck off!” You finally properly snap, whipping your head to face him.

““I’m just saying you’re a grown adult and you’re acting like winter is gonna kill you, you can’t even prepare for it” His response is quick, his tone just as snippy as yours, dripping with arrogance.

“I have a fucking parka in my room, I didn’t know how cold it was.” You throw back at him.

“Mmm sure, or you just wanted to look good for the little walk.” He accuses you, his tone condescending.

“Look good for who? I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere!” You fully yell at him, finally done with his jabs.

He ignores the question, his voice raising but not yet actually yelling, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s good for you to be in the middle of nowhere once in a while?”

“I do not need some asshole who doesn’t even know me giving me fucking life advice, thank you very much.” You snap, no longer yelling but your voice is harsh.

“Well maybe you do because from where I’m standing you would rather be back in LA partying with your friends to post on Instagram than at your brother's beautiful new house with your whole family that loves you. They fucking want you here and you get to fucking see them, stop acting like its pulling fucking teeth for you to be here.” He actually yells this time, momentarily stunning you.

“Why do you even fucking care so much?” You just about scream, praying that your family is still far away from the house. The two of you haven’t even made it out of the foyer yet.

He just stares at you, his eyes hard and his chest heaving slightly. He opens his mouth before quickly snapping it shut, finally letting out a long, deep sigh. “Ya know what, I guess I fucking don’t. Go take a hot shower before you get fucking hypothermia.” He finally mutters harshly as he storms out of the room, his bedroom door slamming shut not long after.

You stand in the foyer, staring down the hallway where he disappeared, still dressed in your winter jacket. You can feel the tears pricking in the back of your eyes, immediately pissing you off that they can be caused by even Lewis. You bite lips, willing the tears to stop, but then you realize, there it is.

It finally feels like Christmas.

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